Guns and Roses

Bad news

I couldn’t take it anymore.

The silence. The distance. The way he kept acting like I didn’t exist—like I hadn’t seen him laugh, like I hadn’t held his hoodie around my waist while bleeding through my worst day. Like I hadn’t heard him whisper that I calmed the chaos inside him.

I’d been patient. I gave him space. I gave myself time to think, to breathe, to doubt. But all I ended up with was a storm in my chest and answers that never came.

So when I saw him walking down the empty hallway after last period—head low, hoodie up, hands shoved in his pockets like they were hiding weapons or regrets—I snapped.

“Leo!” I called out his surname.

He kept walking.

I stormed after him, boots slamming against the tiled floor.

“Saint-Laurent Leo!” I yelled again.

He stopped.

Didn’t turn.

Didn’t say a word.

Just stood there like a wall I was never meant to break through.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” I shouted, breath catching in my throat. “You think if you ignore me long enough, I’ll just disappear?”

Still no answer.

“You’re a coward.”

That made him flinch.

“A straight-up, messed-up coward. Hiding from someone who actually gave a damn about you!”

He turned slowly, eyes empty. Cold. He didn’t even look angry—just… numb. Like whatever piece of him that used to burn had already gone out.

“I’m protecting you,” he said quietly. “That’s what you wanted, right? Space. Safety. A normal life.”

“I never asked you to disappear!” I shouted.

He clenched his jaw and turned away again.

Slap.

The sound cracked through the hallway like a gunshot.

His head jerked slightly to the side. I’d never hit someone before, but my hand didn’t hesitate.

“You’re such a jerk,” I hissed, voice trembling. “You act like you’re doing this noble thing, but really? You’re just scared. Scared that if I really saw all of you, every broken, bruised, bloody piece—I’d leave. But news flash, Leo: I already saw it. And I stayed.”

He turned back, slowly.

And finally, FINALLY!—I saw the pain in his eyes. Not just guilt. Not just shame.

Grief.

Because maybe… he missed me too.

But that didn’t make the ache in my chest any smaller.

“You wanna shut me out?” I whispered. “Fine. But don’t pretend it’s for my sake. You’re not protecting me. You’re punishing yourself.”

I stepped back before my legs gave out. “And I’m not gonna wait around while you do.”

I turned and walked away. This time, I didn’t look back.

But I hoped, God, I hoped he’d come after me.

But he didn’t.

As soon as I stepped into the bathroom, my legs gave out beneath me.

I didn’t even make it to the sink. I just slid down the door and hit the cold tiled floor with a soft thud. My knees folded, arms wrapped around myself like I could hold my heart in one piece if I tried hard enough.

And then the tears came. Loud, ugly, baby sobs I couldn’t swallow down anymore. I cried for the boy who wouldn’t look at me. For the version of him I thought I could save. For the pieces of myself I had given him, only to get silence in return.

I don’t know how long I sat there, but eventually the door opened and I looked up to see Brianna standing over me with a frown. Her brows drew together, and she didn’t ask a single question. She just bent down, wrapped her arms around me, and held me like the world wasn’t crashing in around me.

“Come on,” she said softly. “Let’s get out of here.”

She took me to the mall. Said we were going on a date even though I didn’t smile the whole way there. She picked out clothes I barely looked at and dragged me to her favorite café for overpriced sundaes and frozen lattes.

“You need this,” Brianna told me, stabbing her spoon into her cup of mint chocolate. “I don’t care if you think you don’t. You do.”

I nodded. I didn’t have the strength to argue.

We got home just as the sun dipped behind the rooftops. My dad was on patrol that night, which was both a blessing and a curse. I didn’t want him hovering, but the silence of the house made the ache in my chest echo louder.

We were in the kitchen, unwrapping our leftover pastries when Brianna’s phone buzzed.

“s**t,” she muttered. Her eyes scanned the screen and then widened.

“What?” I asked, but my voice was already tight with dread.

She turned the phone toward me.

“BREAKING: Saint Laurent taken in for questioning over Claudia Jenkins death. Sources say he was the last to speak with her before her overdose.”

My fingers went numb.

The cookie I was holding fell to the floor.

Brianna grabbed my hand. “Geni…”

I stared at the screen like it was a mirror and I didn’t recognize the reflection.

“That boy couldn’t stay out of trouble if he tried,” I said quietly, my voice barely above a whisper.

Brianna sighed. “You need to let him go. Seriously. He’s bad news, and you’re just going to keep getting hurt.”

But the worst part was, I knew she was right.

And still… all I wanted was to know if he was okay.

Because no matter how hard I tried to shut the door on him, Saint Laurent Leo still had his hands around the key.