Words: 1.8k. Notes: Likely part one of a short series. Feedback appreciated.
Billy could tell that it was an afterthought, being invited out for post-work drinks by his co-workers as they were pulling on their coats and leaving the office. He tried to blend in, but something about him made him an outlier. He couldn’t put his finger on it despite the copious amount of time he spent in front of the mirror every day trying to make sure that he looked the part. While he politely declined and told them to have a good time, Billy didn’t want to just go home and stew. He would just wind up arguing in silence with his conscience that had been gnawing at him lately like a cookiecutter shark that had sunk its teeth deep into his ankle, trying to scoop out his flesh. He considered calling Amber, suggesting they get together, but they saw the situation at work so differently. Feeling every bit like the loser he feared he might be, he started his car to go home, alone.
In an effort to distract himself from the conflicting thoughts that had been keeping him up most nights, Billy stopped at the bar near his apartment. He had flirted with pretty girls there before which not only boosted his ego, it was also a great distraction. He scored a perfect street parking spot and took that as a sign that he was supposed to be there. As soon as he walked in though, he wasn't as confident.
A burgundy slip dress with embroidered roses all over it stopped him before he was even at the bar top. Billy could practically feel the mesh straps between the pads of his fingers as he sat down on a stool, having helped you out of it countless times.
One drink, he promised himself. He didn't think things ended terribly and it had been over a year anyway. Mentally, he told himself to focus on himself or to drum up conversation with the striking curly haired model-type two seats over.
Instead, out of his peripheral, he saw you pulling a cream colored cardigan over yourself and holding it closed with both arms around your chest while some guy talked thisclose to your face. He felt a pain in his stomach and half stood up before remembering what you had said to him once in the passenger seat of his car, “Billy, I'm not a little girl. I can defend myself.” If it had annoyed you then, he had to assume that it would annoy you now to have your ex-boyfriend step in.
He couldn't entirely help himself though. As you walked toward the bar, leaning over to ask for your bill, he called over, “Hey, is that guy bothering you?”
It took you a second to register that the voice was directed at you. As soon as your eyes found Billy, your face lit up like hilltop mansion.
“No, but this guy is. Hi!” Meeting him in his spot, you wrapped your arms around his neck to the best of your ability and held him tight for a second. His large hands slow to completely let you go. “Billy, it's so good to see you.” It had been over a year since he ended things, dragging it out until you were both miserable.
“I live around here. What are you doing here? Can you stay for a drink?”
He saw you look to the guy behind the bar as he tapped his finger against the register screen, presumably calling up your tab.
“On me.” He tapped his hand to his chest like he was swearing an oath.
“Okay, one drink.” You caved and plunked down on the stool beside him. “I wasn't going to come out tonight, but it's a last hurrah for Zoey.” Pointing over your shoulder to the table you had been at with work friends. Billy remembered Zoey well because she told him he was pretentious twice and not like it was her opinion, but simply a fact. “She got a job at a fancy gym downtown. Not an Equinox, but a place like it. A place you'd get a membership too.” You teased before thanking the bartender for the bill and opening up your little black purse. Billy noted it wasn't the one you had been wearing when you two were together, the brown one from the Gap that was falling apart.
He took a second to order you a gin and 7Up, hoping that your drink order hadn't changed even if your purse had. He saw you roll your eyes, directed at your lap, when he requested Hendricks and not just “gin”.
“I have a gym in my building actually.”
“Ah, so no on-site massage therapist.” You mused while putting a creased twenty on your bill and pushing it away. You weren't really fishing if he had a girlfriend. For some reason, you assumed that he did.
Picking up the drink, you reached over to tap it gently against his own drink, but after your first sip you took Billy in with a softer smile than you had greeted him with. The curve of your lips flattened as you took him in. He had on an expensive overcoat, his wrist was weighed down by a shiny silver watch, and in a bar with brighter lighting, you would have been able to see your reflection in his shoes. He mentioned living nearby which meant he was in an up and coming neighborhood and in a building with a gym. It seemed like he finally had the life he really wanted when you two were together, but he didn't seem happy.
“Are you meeting someone? What are you doing here?”
“I just…I…” Billy almost said he needed to just get out, but he worried it came across pathetic. He was usually quicker on his feet, years of working in sales had gifted him that skill, but it was hard when his ex-girlfriend was reading him like a take-out menu. “Just wasn't ready to go home yet.” He settled on.
“Bad day at…?”
“I'm still at Purdue.” He clarified from behind the rim of his glass, watching as you nodded and didn't look at all surprised. “No. It was a good day. It's been a great year.”
“But something's not right?”
At first, he framed you in something that resembled annoyance, but Billy physically shook it from his face after a second. It actually felt really good to have someone see him, to not have to perform for a second.
“What gave it away?” He laughed and emptied all, but one sip of his drink.
Shrugging your shoulders to your ears, Billy notes that they were decorated with pearl studs that looked real. He wanted to know if they were a gift from a guy.
“We were together a good chunk of time. I knew you pretty well.” Two years and a bit wasn't nothing. “What's going on, Billy?”
The glass was back on top of the hardwood bar and Billy’s hands were clasped together instead, leaning forward as he wrestled with opening up. He knew he should talk to someone. Someone without an agenda or a bias. Someone like his ex-girlfriend who he had left wounded due to no fault of her own.
“I have everything that I wanted now.” He was sleeping with one of the hottest, if not the hottest, woman he had ever seen. He was making more money than he ever had been before. He wore designer labels. He drove a nice car. Yet, Billy was beginning to hate himself. He wiped at his forehead and swallowed hard before admitting, “I'm not good - I'm fucking miserable.” Sheepishly, Billy checked up from his Gucci shoes to see you keeping your mouth too full to talk, gin slightly pushing out your cheeks. “Shit. You're about to say I told you so.”
Swallowing as quick as you could, you hurriedly shook your head from side to side.
“No.” It's urgency made it sound a little bit like a lie. You did want to revel in that, but you didn't want to kick a man when he was down. “I'm going to say that I am sorry’, that sucks.”
“You don't want to gloat a little bit?”
It wasn't hard to remember any of the conversations between the two of you where Billy lamented being unsatisfied and you asked if he really thought “items” and “status” would change that. It was hard for him to look at you as a voice of wisdom then because you were usually in the black uniform scrubs you wore to the spa you worked as a massage therapist in.
“That wouldn't feel good for either of us. Besides, we were never going to work out, Billy.” He seemed to want you to behave like a pissed off ex who hated him, but that wasn't you.
“Why's that?”
“I am just a massage therapist. I was never going to be enough for you.” The words came out so simply like you were talking about the weather. You washed them down with your last sip and were up on your feet.
“What the hell? That's not true.” His brows squished his eyes and brought his whole face together like he was insulted or had just bitten into a lemon wedge.
“Cause you're not enough for you.” You finished the thought and watched him take it in, making him instantly sober. “No pharmaceutical company or spending spree at Saks can fix that.” In the past, he hadn't believed you, but the umpteenth time was enough. You weren't his “wholesome” girlfriend anymore, you were someone who saw him and Billy realized now that nobody else had since he broke up with you. He surrounded himself with empty husks who worshipped greed. They only liked him for what he could do for them. “I really got to go. I have a stacked day tomorrow.” Billy was forced out of his head as you hugged him again, kissing his cheek chastily as you did. “It was so good to see you, Gorgeous. Thanks for the drink.”
Billy raised his hand to say ‘goodbye’, but you were already rushing back over to your small group of friends to hug them ‘goodbye’ too.
Turning around to leave, Billy made your heart jump. He was coming toward the door as if to see you out.
“Hey, do you think if I ever sort my shit out…maybe, we could get together some time? Just hang out?” His eyes looked hopeful, but childish. It didn't match anything else about him.
Billy could spy Zoey glaring at him from a good ten feet away while you decided how to respond.
“Sure.” You decided, knowing that either Billy would never reach out or, if he did, you could set up boundaries. “I'll always be there for you, Billy.”
Watching you leave through the sliding patio window behind him, Billy felt stupid for ever forgetting that. You would always be there for him.
Welp, here it is. I did it, @gladerscake. I hope you're proud of me😂 But for real, thanks for being my hype man on this
WARNING: Drug use/addiction
~~~~~~~~~~
It all happened so fast, you were cruising down the road when all of a sudden, some asshole in a pickup truck ran a red light and crashed into your car hard.
It first, you didn't feel anything. You were just in complete shock, you must've blacked out because you woke up to the sound of sirens.
You tried to move, but you quickly realized you were stuck. You saw your leg crushed between the front of the car where it was caved in from the impact, that's when the pain started.
Searing white hot pain surged through your whole body, the pain from your leg alone making you scream. You felt other places on your body that felt awful, but the pain in your leg made you feel dizzy.
You woke up from another blackout, but thankfully, you were already on an ambulance on the way to your local hospital. You just remembered sobbing, begging to just have some pain relief, you wished you could just pass out again. There was nothing the EMTs could do until you got to the ER.
When you finally arrived, everything was a blur. All you could comprehend was the pain you felt, especially when the doctors had to set your leg and clean all the other wounds on your body. They finally just gave you an IV drip of morphine, just so you wouldn't pass out from the pain again.
You could hear some commotion outside of the room you were in, you recognized the voice even in your anguished state. Billy was here, he was your emergency contact after all. A part of you wanted him to be with you, holding your hand. But you didn't want him to see you like this, so broken. You must've looked as bad as you felt, not something you want your fiancé to see, even though he's seen you on a lot of your bad days. But this was an exceptionally bad day.
As soon as the doctors and nurses let him, Billy rushed to your side, instantly looking heartbroken and getting teary-eyed. "Oh, baby, I'm so sorry. I started speeding down here as soon as I got the call." He gently grabbed ahold of your hand and placed a delicate kiss on your slightly bruised knuckles. "How bad is it?" Billy looked to the doctor.
"A crushed fibula, a few major fractures in the tibia. Some cuts and scrapes on the arms as you can probably see, nothing too serious there, no need for stitches. But the leg will have to be in that cast for about eight weeks."
Your bottom lip trembled, the pain only increasing as the doctor talked, and Billy noticed. "Can you give them something for the pain, please?" He asked impatiently.
"Of course, we can give them 20 mgs of Oxycontin for now. Then put them on a schedule when they go home."
Your ears perked up at the word, panic striking through you. "Wait, can it be something else?"
"Babe, it'll work better than any other painkiller." Billy reassured.
"But-"
"Hey, I know this stuff, okay? It's completely safe."
You agreed, you trusted Billy. Plus, your pain was so great you didn't have the energy to argue. You had heard horror stories about Oxy since it's creation, but if Billy says it's safe...
A week passed, and you weren't feeling any better, but your doctor said that it's normal. It does that awhile for bones to heal. You just kept taking your medicine as prescribed, and it was fine. But as the days went on, you felt like you needed more. So you got prescribed more, you were on 40 mgs. Then you were on 60 mgs. When you started to need 80 mgs, that's when you felt like there was a problem.
You brought up your concerns with Billy, but he quickly brushed off the idea that something could be wrong with the drug. He showed you the research, he gave you every assurance you needed, but all of it still felt off.
No matter how much Oxy you took, you were still in pain. Being brushed off before, you decided to keep your struggles to yourself. You were in denial yourself, even after the eight weeks had passed and your injuries were healed, you still...craved...Oxycontin.
You had a panic attack when your doctor finally cut you off, it felt like you were sentenced to death. You needed to have the drug, your life depended on it. You felt so alone in all this, Billy was constantly working and never home. But a part of you were thankful for that, that way you wouldn't have to sneak out of your own home to try and find a dealer who could give you Oxy.
You wasted no time ingesting the pill you bought, it felt so heavenly. You could only describe it as having a powerful orgasm after a whole year of abstinence. Of course that feeling didn't last long, and the pain just kept coming back. What was worse is that you didn't even feel physical pain, it was the emotional pain that made you keep coming back to the drug. You knew you needed help, but you were too afraid to ask. At one point, you felt like you were a lost cause...
You had gotten so good as hiding your addiction from Billy that you started to get cocky. In the beginning, you usually hid in your closet to snort your pills, just in case Billy were to come home unexpectedly. But now, you sat in your living room, crushed Oxy pill powder in three long lines on your glass coffee table.
You had a rolled up dollar bill in your hand, lined up between your left nostril and the line of white powder, when you heard the front door to your house open.
Billy stopped dead in his tracks when he saw you, wide eyed in disbelief. Was he actually seeing this? He must've been hallucinating, right? You couldn't be snorting Oxycontin.
"Billy...what are you doing home?" You asked nervously, gripping the rolled dollar in your hand tightly.
"I got off work early...to surprise you..." Billy was expressionless, his voice null of any emotion. He was too much in shock to do anything but stare lifelessly at the powder collected on the table.
It hadn't been that long that Billy had his doubts about Purdue Pharma. He tried not to believe that he and his fellow sales reps had been lied to, been forced to say that Oxy was nonaddictive when it clearly was. He hadn't seen it, what the drug did to people, but now he finally had and it happened to the person he cared about the most in this world; you. Dr. Finnix was right...he was selling poison. You were poisoned with this shit, and it was his fault.
If only Billy knew, if only he had realized it sooner. Then maybe you wouldn't have become addicted.
"You need help. I see that now. I'm so sorry I didn't sooner." Billy frowned deeply.
"No, Billy, I'm fine. I'm fine." You chuckled manically, quickly standing up when Billy started to walk to you. "What're you doing?" You asked panicked.
"I'm throwing this garbage away."
"No!" You pushed Billy away from the table, his eyes widening in shock. "Don't." Billy pushed past you wiped the powder away in one quick swipe, making you scream angrily. "Why'd you do that?" You cried.
"Do you have any more pills? Huh?" Billy walked around your house with you following him, pulling at his arm when he started to get closer to the area where you kept your stash. "Is it in here?" He pointed to the closet, you quickly getting in his way and trying to block the door. "Y/n, please, this is for your own good."
"No, Billy, please!" You screamed as Billy pulled out your little baggie of pills. "You're gonna kill me, Bill! Do you want to kill me!? Do you hate me that much!?"
Billy paused as he held the bag of pills above the kitchen sink, sighing sadly and heartbroken at your hurtful comments. "No, I'm doing this cause I love you." He tried to ignore your screams and hits to his body as he dumped all the pills into the drain, turning on the garbage disposal.
"No!" You sobbed, falling to your knees. "You did this to me! I hate you. I wish I never met you, son of a bitch."
Billy felt his heart clench, a single tear falling down his cheek. "You don't mean that..." He whispered, mostly to himself.
You were sent to rehab, against your will. You cursed Billy out, said the most hateful things that came to mind without a filter, and you could see his flowing tears as you were taken away. You told yourself you'd never speak to him again. And at the time, you really felt hatred towards him, but once you started to have a clearer head during your time in rehab, remembering how many vile things you said to Billy made you want to die. Did those pills really turn you into something you hated?
You didn't even want to get out of bed, you were so depressed and worst of all, still craving those goddamn drugs.
You were told Oxycontin changes your brain chemistry, literally. It takes two years for the frontal lobe to repair itself, and that's only after you stop taking the drugs. It all felt so impossible. You really couldn't imagine yourself not taking Oxy, but that's where rehab tried to help you.
You hated what those pills turned you into, you felt ashamed, embarrassed of what your friends and family must think of you, what Billy must've thought of you. God, he must be so disappointed. He was supposed to be visiting you in a few days, how were you going to face him after everything you did? Why would he even want to see you?
Nevertheless, the days passed quickly and you felt like you were going to pass out. Billy was the love of your life and you were terrified of what he was going to say to you, if he had anything to say at all.
Unbeknownst to you, Billy was having the same fears. Whether it was true or not, he believed he was the one to hook you on the drug. He did this to you because he was addicted to the money he made, he literally made money off of you. If anything, you should've been pissed at him, not the other way around. Either way, he owed it to you to not just abandon you in your time of need, he'd never do that even if you were in the wrong; but he really believed you weren't. He just hoped you could forgive him.
Only one way to find out.
"Y/n, you have a visitor."
You felt your heartbeat quicken, the thought that Billy was just a few rooms away, waiting for you. You could practically hear your own heart pounding in your ears. You took a shaky breath in, trying to find your courage, but it was impossible as you slowly trudged down the squeaky clean halls of the rehab center, the strong scent of floor cleaner permeating the air around you and making you lightheaded. Just get it over with, Y/n...
You entered the main seating area where most of the residents hung out after the therapy sessions, playing board games and such, though, no one was in the room besides your fiancé. Even if it wasn't that long the two of you were separated, you still expected some sort of change in his appearance, whether it be as something as small as a haircut, but he still looked the exact same, save for his permanent expression of concern as you noticed you walk in.
"Hey..." Billy stood up from the couch he was sitting on, walking to you slowly. "You look so much better." Billy cringed at himself, were comments like that even allowed? He didn't want to make you self conscious, that was the exact opposite of what he wanted to do.
"Thanks..." You said, slightly amused at his panicked face.
It didn't take more than a few seconds for you and Billy to rush towards each other and capture the other in a desperate hug. You both had missed each other so much. "I'm so sorry, Bill." You cried, wishing that you could take every bad thang you said back, but apologizing about a thousand might make up a fraction of the pain you must've caused him.
Billy shook his head as he pulled away, a pained expression in his eyes. "No, I'm sorry. I never should've pushed that poison on you."
"You didn't know..."
"But I should've. I was so naïve. Even when I heard that people were overdosing, I ignored all the warning signs. Then when it happened to you, I couldn't do it anymore. I quit working for Purdue. They wanted me to sign an NDA, but I refused. I know that it's probably gonna bite me in the ass one day, but I'm gonna so everything in my power to stop them from profiting off people's suffering."
You couldn't help but let out a sob, but the issue was, you didn't know if you were angry or overjoyed that he was going to try and stop Purdue. You had chosen the drugs over your own partner once before, so hearing Billy say that made you feel like you were mourning a loss in a way. But you tried to focus on the feeling of Billy's hands on your face, how comforting it felt, it made you feel safe. Oxy never made you feel safe, it increased your paranoia and the comedown was always painful. When you were with Billy, you were always happy and stayed happy even when the two of you were apart, because he was the best thing that's ever happened to you, and you can't believe you put that in jeopardy all for some stupid drugs.
"I don't want to feel like this anymore..."
Billy frowned, planting a tender kiss on your forehead. "It won't last forever, you can come back from this. And I promise you, I will help you every step of the way, as best as I possibly can. I'll never abandon you, even when things get rough. For better or for worse, right?"
You giggled. "You were supposed to wait to say that on our wedding day."
"I made those vows to myself as soon as we starting dating, baby. And I still mean it, I'm all in, for the rest of my life."
