Lyla's P.OV:


I could faintly hear the sounds of my phone ringing somewhere off in the distance. It seemed far away, the sounds of "Second & Sebring" sounded muffled. As I pulled myself out of my alcohol-induced slumber the ringing became louder, almost too loud for my pounding head to stand.


I reached over to the nightstand, knowing it was Austin who was calling me, but as I tried to grab my phone I knocked it off the nightstand instead, the phone crashing to the floor with a loud thud. The ringtone died off as the call went to voicemail; I had no energy to crawl out of my little cocoon to call him back.


I pressed my hands to my face trying to halt the ringing in my ears and the pounding in my brain, but it was to no avail. I opened one eye slowly, than the other as I glanced at the room around me. It was only then did I feel a pair of arms around me; it was then the memories of last night came flooding back in one fell swoop: a lot of drinking, dancing and making out with Alan, and Vic; he followed me to my room......we fought......and then he kissed me. He said he loved me. And now here we are.


I glanced over my shoulder to see Vic laying behind me, his arms wrapped around me loosely, still lost in sleep. He looked peaceful. And gorgeous. I pulled myself out of his grip and slowly out of the warm bed, the room spinning around me as I gripped onto the night stand for support.I walked to the bathroom and shut the door behind me slowly, gripping the counter for dear life as the tears welled up in my eyes.


I wasn't sad; I was mad. Mad at myself. How could I have let this happen? What good could come of Vic and I having sex while we were both completely trashed? I knew those things he said to me were from the alcohol; he didn't love me, how could he? He was the one who broke up with me and never looked back. And now look at me: I'm a complete mess, my life is a mess; there's no way he could love me; he just wanted in my pants, probably to make himself feel better about how big of an asshole he was.


I rubbed my head and pulled out my toiletries bag, trying unsuccessfully to find some ibuprofen or something to kill this headache. I cursed under my breath when I couldn't find any, but my heart slowed as my fingers brushed agasint a piece of cool metal at the bottom of the bag. I gripped it and pulled it out, staring at my dear old friend through tear-filled eyes.
I hadn't touched the razor blade in over a year; I had even forgotten it was buried in the bottom of my bag. I twirled it between my fingers as I contemplated everything, as I contemplated how fucked up my life was. I sat down leaning my back against the wall, pulling my knees to my chest as I eyed the shiny piece of metal. I turned my wrist over and stared at the old, faded scars that were still somewhat visible.


The old feelings of fear and despair overtook me, and I felt as if I was no longer in control, like I was watching myself, unable to do anything. I brought the blade down to my wrist slowly, allowing the cold metal to hover slightly over my tanned skin before making contact. I dragged the blade across my wrist slowly, not going as deep as I used to. The pain was immediate and I sucked in a sharp breath as the tears welled in my eyes once again. I didn't stop, and soon the pain was replaced with relief, just as I had hoped. As the blood began to pour out of my open wrist I felt free again; it seemed as if nothing mattered anymore; the pain, the anger, the hate; it was all gone.


I was lost in my own world as I watched the blood fall over my arm. I was beginning to feel a little lighthead, but that was the best part; it wasn't time to quit just yet. As I pushed the blade into my skin once more I heard a faint knock at the door but chose to ignore it, not caring about anything at this point.


The door flew open, and through half-closed eyes I could see Vic racing towards me.
"Lyla, NO!!" I heard faintly through my haze. Before I had time to react he had bent down and taken my wrist into his hands, pulling the blade away from skin in the process. I looked up at him and our eyes met. He looked at me with his gorgeous brown eyes; they were full of pain. I glanced away, no longer able to keep his gaze. He picked me up bridal style and set me on the edge of the counter. He grabbed a wash cloth and began to apply pressure to my wounds. We remained in silence as he cleaned the fresh cuts on my wrist and bandaged them with gauze. He kissed my wrist softly a few times before he put his fingers under my chin, lifting it up so I had no choice but to look at him.


"Lyla, what the hell were you thinking? What is going on with you?" He asked, his voice switching between sympathy and anger. I began to speak, but something inside me snapped.


"What do you even care, Vic? It's none of your God damn business anyway," I yelled as I tried to escape his tight grasp.


"Lyla, talk to me. Why would you do this to yourself?" he asked sweetly, his voice quiet.
"Because my life is fucked up, okay? This isn't the first time I've done this, Vic. I needed it all to stop, and it was working until you barged in uninvited," I spit out at him as I jumped off the counter and walked back out into the room.


"Lyla, don't do this. Why are you being this way?" He said, his voice raising a bit as he followed me. I began to dress myself, throwing on a pair of shorts and a slipknot sweatshirt that belonged to Austin in order to hide my fresh bandages.


"Save it. I don't need your sympathy. You have no right to try to act like you even care!" I yelled loudly.


"Why wouldn't I care Lyla?" He yelled back at me. I snapped my head in his direction, eyeing him angrily.


"I don't know, Vic, maybe because you're the one who caused all of this! You're the one who caused my life to fall apart, and now I'm a fucked up mess. So thanks," I said as I walked towards the door, opening it and slamming it shut behind me. I leaned against the wall across the hall and began to cry softly. I slid down the wall so I was seated on the floor in the hallway, putting my heads in my hand, my wrist aching, my head pounding.
Everything was so screwed up. I was so screwed up. I just wanted it all to end.


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Austin's P.O.V:


"I'm gonna go see if there is any breakfast left downstairs. Anyone wanna come? Final call!" I said, recieving only grunts and groans in return from Alan, Tino, and Phil. I shook my head and grabbed my phone and the room key to head downstairs.


Everyone, except for me, was extremely hungover. I hadn't been able to get ahold of Lyla all morning, but I assumed she was still passed out; she had drank quite a bit last night.
I walked out of the room, pulling the door shut softly, and as I turned around I saw Lyla sitting in the hallway across from my room, her head in her hands. I walked over to her and squatted in front of her, grabbing her shoulders with my hands. I startled her and she jumped a little, lifting her head to look at me.


She was crying, her eyes red and puffy, her face drained of color. She didn't look so good.
"Lyla, what's going on, babe?" I asked her sweetly as she put her head back in her hands, ignoring my question as her body shook with quiet sobs. "Hey. Look at me," I said as I lifted her head with my hands, gazing into her sad eyes. She looked broken like I had never seen before. I sat in front of her, crossing my legs and taking her hands into mine.


"I-I sle-slept with Vi-ic last ni-ight," she barely choked out as she continued to cry. I took a deep breath, letting it out slowly as I tried to comprehend what I had just heard. I wasn't jealous, or angry, nothing like that. I was just sad for her because she wasn't the type of person who could see sex as just sex, no matter who it was with. And with her complicated history with Vic I knew she wouldn't take this lightly.


"He followed me back to my room and I yelled at him for a really long time. I told him how much I hated him and how much he hurt me. He tried to apologize and he told he he still loved me," she said as the tears began to fade. I brought my hand to her face and brushed the tears away from her cheeks. She smiled faintly at me as she nuzzled her cheek in my hand. "He kissed me and I just let it happen. I couldn't seem to stop it; my head was yelling at me to run, but my heart.....my heart was telling me to never let go," she paused again before looking up at me. "I don't know what to do, Austin," she said sadly. I leaned over and kissed her forehead.


"Let's go get something to eat, and we'll figure it out together," I responded as I began to stand up. I reached out and took a hold of her wrist to pull her up. She shrieked in pain and drew her wrist back from me. I looked at her, puzzled. "Lyla, what's wrong?" I asked as I raised an eyebrow at her. She pulled herself up off the floor slowly, keeping her gaze away from me.


"It's nothing," she mumbled.


"Lyla," I responded, my voice getting louder as I walked towards her. I grabbed her arm as she tried to pull from my grasp, but I was stronger than her. I pushed the sleeve of my sweatshirt up exposing a gauze bandage covering her beautiful wrist. I pulled the bandage away and gasped at what I saw. I looked up at her as her eyes began to tear up again. I wanted to yell at her, to scream and tell her how stupid she was being, but I knew that wouldn't make things any better. I brought her wrist to my lips and kissed the fresh cuts. I replaced the bandage and pulled her into a tight hug as she cried into my chest.
"Austin I'm so sorry," she sobbed as I rubbed her back.


"Shhhh, Lyla, I know. It'll be okay," I responded, not knowing what else to say. I loved her so much, she was my best friend; I couldn't lose her. I had to figure out what was going on inside that pretty little head of hers. I pulled away, wrapping my arm tightly around her shoulder, pulling her into me as we made our way to the elevator to get some food.


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Lyla's P.O.V:


"You need to talk to him," Austin said quietly as we made our way back to the hotel after breakfast. "You two need to figure out whatever is going on here. You can't keep doing this to yourself, Lyla. If you still love him and you want to give him a second chance, then that's great. Or if you want to forget about him and never see him again that's fine too, but you can't keep holding on like this." I shook my head at what he was saying; I knew he was right. Holding on like I was was truly killing me. I needed to figure this out, and as much as I wanted to do it alone I knew I couldn't.


I had to talk to Vic at some point, I mean really talk, for real this time.


We made our way to the elevator and rode it in silence back up to our floor.


Austin walked me to my room and hugged me once more.


"I'll be next door if you need me, okay? But please, Lyla, don't do this to yourself ever again," he said, motioning to my wrist. I nodded my head, trying to convince both him and myself that I wouldn't. Austin walked back into his room and I unlocked my door, walking in.


I was surprised to see Vic was still there, sitting on the edge of the bed staring off into space. His head jerked over to me as I made my way in, letting to door close behind me. His eyes looked tired and sad.


"Vic, I think we need to talk," I muttered as I played with the edge of the sweatshirt.


"Yeah we do," he replied sweetly, smiling at me a little.


I took a deep breath, trying not to cry again. Vic got up from the bed and walked over to me, pulling me into a tight hug, his arms wrapping around my waist. I didn't respond for a while, but eventually my arms moved from my sides and wrapped around him as I buried my face into his bare chest.
It was now or never.

Notes

Okay, so....woah. I know. This isn't my favorite chapter by any means. But as I've mentioned before I wrote this story over a year ago, so there's quite a bit I don't like at this point. But there's no use in changing it or the entire story will change.

This is just a glimpse into some of Lyla's demons and issues.

Next chapter soon. Maybe even later tonight.