I didn’t want to leave Tony. We had been ‘talking’ for what felt like hours, just writing notes back and forth. It felt silly and immature, but it was what I was used to with him, at least. He didn’t know it obviously, but from my point of view, this situation was so familiar. I was comfortable, more comfortable in another person’s presence than I ever have been. It was like our old times, writing letters to each other, except this time he was here and I could see him.

But I had to leave. A little while ago, I had gotten a message from my commissioner about a new project for a band that I had yet to work for. I had worked with other Fearless records bands before, but I had never even heard of Pierce the Veil until I read my boss’s email. As a mute artist, I didn’t really know about a lot of things. Being with Tony right here, right now, made me wish that I did.

I have to get back home. I have work, I said finally—and reluctantly.

What about your keys? Tony asked.

I texted a locksmith earlier and he said that he’d be coming around 10, I lied quickly. Luckily, writing conversation down gave you a little extra time to come up with a lie. Once again, I was reminded about my lying—I felt dirty and disgusting.

“Oh,” Tony replied out loud. I looked away from his disappointment face, glancing at the clock. “I guess you better get going then.”

Thanks for…everything, Tony, I wrote across the paper. “Everything” didn’t even cover it.

“I’ll catch you later?” Tony asked, raising his eyebrows a little. That made him look hopeful, if I wasn’t mistaken. But his eyes, if I wasn’t mistaken again, looked a little sad.

I opened my mouth and let two easy words gently out. “Of course.” Instantly, without any significant hesitation, I found myself leaning down, kissing Tony with an unfamiliar confidence. Who knew when I would get to do that again.

I shook my head as I walked back to my apartment. I needed to switch my focus and my thoughts on work. I hated how easily I could do that, how easily I could flip into different personas. I always knew that I had a problem but I never realized it was so bad until recently.

My brain flipped to business. The band I was going to work with apparently had someone in town and they actually wanted to meet with me personally. Normally I got information through my boss and the band’s manager—most bands didn’t put a lot of emphasis on the album artwork as this one seemed to. Art just wasn’t the same anymore, with technology growing and music becoming more digital. But it was kind of refreshing that this band wanted a more personal connection with the album artwork; they wanted the music but they also wanted the story and the visual—the entire package.

When I got back to my apartment, I felt cold. I hadn’t spent a lot of time with Tony, but now I didn’t feel comfortable in my own place. Tony has always been my home through the computer screen; after being with him in person for the first time, nothing would compare to his presence anymore. I blinked out some moisture that was slyly building up in my eyes, feeling the ache in my chest with the knowledge that I won’t really feel completely home without him. There would always be an empty space for him.

“Ow!” I exclaimed after feeling a sharp pain in my forehead. The palm of my hand stung. I looked at it carefully, examining the redness on my palm and realizing I had just hit myself in the forehead without really thinking about doing so.

I shook my head and sat down at my computer. Immediately, the instant messaging system I used to use to talk to Tony opened up. I frowned a little when I saw that he was online. Was he always online, or was he behind his computer too? Was he debating talking to me?

I shook my head and exited out of the app. Then, I opened up my email from my coordinator. It was a brief one, telling me that he’d let me know the contact information of the person I was supposed to be meeting. Normally his emails would be long, telling me what the band was looking for. I guess this time around I would be hearing what the band wants directly from the band itself.

I decided to do some researching. I was interested to find out who and what Pierce the Veil was. The name sounded familiar; although I couldn’t pin point exactly where I had heard of them.

It was just a simple google search. It’s kind of funny how simple actions can result in complicated situations. I barely finished typing the name into the search bar and then suddenly everything flooded back to me. My eyes blurred with tears and I couldn’t feel my heart beating. I couldn’t breathe due to the knot in my throat and my head pounded with memories.

Me: is something wrong Tone?

Tony: yeah

Me: will you tell me about it?

For a while, the space next to Tony’s instant messaging name just blinked. It showed that he was typing. And then it would disappear—no longer typing. It went back and forth like that for several minutes.

Me: Tony please tell me what’s wrong. You haven’t been talking like yourself for days… I know something’s up.

I bit my lip as I started to type again.

Me: can we talk on the phone?

I would talk for Tony. Of course I would talk for Tony! If he needed something, I would let go of everything and use my words for him. He was my world, after all.

Tony: you don’t like talking on the phone

Me: yes but it’s you, silly. I want to hear what’s wrong, don’t worry about me

At this point I started to feel genuinely concerned for him. I knew Tony was a shy guy, but never to me. He always told me that I was the only person he actually opens up to. What was holding him back now?

Tony: i don’t want you to hear me cry, Tori…

The second he sent that, a tear of my own dripped down onto my cheek. It burned. I swiped it away quickly.

Me: I’m going to call you now

With that, I picked up my phone and dialed his number. I spun around in my chair anxiously as I waited for him to pick up. When he did, I only knew so because I heard him quietly breathing. He didn’t say anything.

“Hi Tony,” I said softly. Because I was saying his name, the words didn’t really hurt as they escaped past my lips. I made sure to stay quiet. I didn’t want my family downstairs to hear me talking and expect me to talk to them, too.

“Hi,” he said even quieter. Even in that simple greeting, his voice cracked.

“You know I’m always here for you Tony. I don’t want to pressure anything out of you, but no matter what you have to say, I’m here to listen.”

“I know.”

I waited for a few seconds. Tony coughed a little and then sighed into the phone.

“It’s so hard, Tor,” he said.

“What’s hard?” I croaked.

“School. Homework. I’m so stupid sometimes! I can’t even do my work even when I know it’s mandatory. I skipped class again today because I didn’t do my homework.”

“Oh, Tony… that’s okay! Everyone has off days.” I didn’t really know how to make him feel better. I didn’t go to school anymore; I did all of my work from home. I couldn’t be in that public of the place. I would be able to feel all of the other student’s stares itch on my skin like insects.

“No, it’s not that. It’s not a normal off day. I just don’t care Tori. I don’t care, I don’t care! I hate school. I hate all of the work. I don’t know what I’m doing with my life. I can’t get out of bed. I don’t care. But then again I do care. It’s so hard to just lay here caring and not caring at the same time,” he ranted.

I frowned and bit my lip. I didn’t know what to say to that. “Are they hurting you again?” I asked. I closed my eyes and leaned back into my chair in distress, hearing Tony whimper a little into the phone. He used to tell me about his bullies in middle school and the beginning of high school We were at the end of our junior years now; I thought the bullying had stopped.

“I just don’t want to be there.”

“Tone, you can get homeschooled. You don’t need those losers. Besides, you’re graduating next year; you’ll be out of there before you know it!”

“It’s so tiring, Tori.”

“You know I don’t go to school, either. It’s been okay for me. It’ll be okay for you, too. Being homeschooled is great. You’ll still get a degree and be able to go to college and everything,” I said, attempting to keep my voice light and positive.

“I don’t want a degree. I don’t want college. I don’t want anything. I don’t want to be here.” My mouth drooped open at his words. I covered it with my hands. I slid out of my chair and crawled to my bed. I curled up into a pillow and clenched my eyes shut, imaging a world without Tony. It just wasn’t possible.

“Tony… please don’t say that…” I croaked.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“Tony!” I cried. “I’m in my bed now, too. I won’t get out until you feel better. I’m here for you. If you’re feeling pain, I’m feeling it too.”

Tony didn’t say anything after that. I imagine that he felt too sad and tired to speak. I was starting to feel the same.

I locked my door. I ignored the calls from my family. I stayed one hundred percent attentive to Tony; we agreed to video chat, both needing to see each other’s face. I pretended like I was there right next to him, keeping him in sight while I laid on my side in bed. His eyes were red and tired and I knew he was trying to stay awake but I convinced him to try to close them and get some rest.

When he finally fell asleep, I smiled gently at his image. I wished I could be there next to him, to help him get through his depressive state. I sat up and furrowed my eyebrows, thinking. I was no psychologist but I did take a psychology course a year back. I didn’t understand a lot of it. Psychology scared me. It guess the fear was kind of backwards but I didn’t like to know why our brains acted the way they did. I didn’t want to psychoanalyze my own actions. I didn’t want to think about any of that—I just wanted to cut all of that shit out.

“Oh!” I said out loud. I smiled a little as I remembered an interesting concept I had learned very briefly. For some reason, it must have stuck with me. I ran my fingers through my long blonde hair. Immediately I could feel myself changing. If I didn’t have this hair, these eyes… if I never looked the same again maybe I could forget. Maybe Tony would hear this concept and something would spark in him, too, to help him with his problems.

When we talked the next morning, I told him what he—what we—had to do.

“What does that mean?” he asked.

“It means to cut out the problem at the source. It’s mindset, really. I know it’ll be hard but it kind of makes the battle more tangible, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah…yeah, I like that. That’s interesting,” he mused quietly.

“I just want you to be okay, Tone. I love you,” I said quietly.

“I love you too Tori. I’m sorry for all of this.”

“Don’t apologize, Tony. You’re allowed to feel bad like that. Just make sure to tell me when you do, okay? I don’t want to lose you. The world can’t lose you,” I said. “Don’t apologize,” I repeated. “Just… just pierce the veil.”

“Okay,” he said quietly. I could kind of hear a smile in his voice. “Pierce the veil.”

Pierce the veil. I actually let out a dry scream when I saw the names of the band members listed.

I gripped my hair tightly, digging my nails into my scalp as I backed away from the computer screen. My brain throbbed. It was all coming back to me—the shit I had cut out by dying this damn hair auburn-orange infected my mind once again. “No,” I cried.

I dropped my hands—they were shaking—and held them at my chest. My heart was beating fast, too fast. It hurt. Everything hurt.

Why wouldn’t he tell me?

“Oh, Tony,” I sobbed into my hands. “What have I done?”

I foggily made my way to my bathroom. My shoulders shook from my tears but that didn’t stop me. My hands were unsteady but that didn’t stop me either. I reached for my color contacts and opened the pack into the trashcan. I roughly took out the ones that were already in, not being sensitive to my eyes and practically clawing them out. They bunched up and dropped to the floor. I screamed and stepped on the small lenses. I punched the side of my fist into my mirror, hoping to crack my reflection but I wasn’t strong enough to do that. I looked into the mirror with misery. My blue eyes—“what sweet, sweet blue eyes you have. I will never forget those eyes, little one”—they stared back at me with terror. The rest of my eyes were bloodshot and irritated.

“It didn’t work for me,” I cried quietly.

I knew that, deep down I always knew that. And I always knew that when I met Tony, I would have to be the Tori he pictured in his head. That’s why I kept a bleaching kit under my counter. There was no escaping it, now. There was nothing I could do anymore. I numbly took the kit out. I had the directions memorized.

I was so upset that I sat in my shower, my clothes on and the water running as the auburn washed out and my old blonde started to resemble. Orange spread down my shirt and arms. I lifted my hand and watched it drip off my finger tips.

I never really did pierce the veil, didn’t I? It was all materialistic, all physical. My head was still the same. I hadn’t really cut anything; I had only built up a wall. A weak wall, a wall that was now crumbling.

“It didn’t work for me,” I cried again. “It worked for him.” I should have felt happy about this. Tony was okay! It had worked for him. He managed to become okay. He had his future, his life… he had his dream!

My heart felt crushed, though. Why didn’t he tell me? I clenched my eyes shut and bit my lip in frustration. The water started to run cold on my back. But I did the same thing to him.

I felt like I was going to split into half. My insides were at war with each other. The angry and scared Tori versus the innocent Tori versus the newly born Ella. Tony didn’t know anything about this. He didn’t know about my kidnapping; he didn’t know about my PTSD; he didn’t know that I had completely changed my identity in an attempt to separate myself from what happened. He thought I was Ella. He didn’t believe in Tori anymore. I had hurt him; I had let him go; I had forced him to let me go because in a way I wanted to let myself go… Because I hadn’t successfully pierced the veil before. The angry and scared Tori still lived fervently inside of me, no matter what I looked like, no matter what color eyes I had.

My brain continued to spin. My chest continued to hurt. Why?

Because Tony’s lie, or omission of the truth, rather, hurt me so much, I couldn’t imagine what my lie would do to him.

Notes

*fidgets awkwardly* hello

sorry this took five months?? time escapes me. life is busy. Sorry guys :(
please accept this as an apology

i hope we're all settled now

anyways
hope all of you are doing okay and enjoy this crappy update!!!!!
off to you my precious precious!!!
(take all the time you need bud, because clearly i did the same lol)
love you all