Tyler's POV #2

                                    

                                          


                          
I never should have done the things I did.
                          
            But when you love a girl who puts thorns in your heart and stars in your night, suddenly things like right, wrong, and self-control, don't really seem to matter.
                          
            Neither does letting go.
                          
            Besides, how could I let go of the only thing that kept me from becoming pure shade? Because without Ali's light, I was nothing but the darkness.
                          
Cold.
                          
Alone.
                          
Nothing.
                          
With Aaliyah, I was just a shitty human who occasionally did terrible things. Without her? 
                          
I was a monster. 
                          
Heartless.
                          
Ungodly.
                          
And I knew what people thought when they saw us together–what was that pretty, pretty moth doing so close to those awful, ugly sparks? 
                          
Little did they know, that smart, beautiful, not-so-innocent moth only danced by the flames to fan them. God only knew why, but that girl would give up her last breath to keep me going–even when I didn't deserve it.
                          
And if she ever stopped loving me–stopped supplying that precious oxygen that kept me burning–then eventually our light would run out. And there would be nothing at all to stop me from showing the world real darkness...
                          
            But hark--
                          
The moth fluttered past.
                          
            She didn't notice me flickering in the shadows, watching her stumble her way to my bedroom–where we did the most damage. Part of me, a big part, considered following after her, grinding on those tight little yoga pants, saying all the things she needed, just so I could get it in once or twice...
                          
            But I switched my thinking cap to the opposite head, and went the other way.
                          
            My boy was waiting in the kitchen–obedient, loyal... not-so-fucking-trust-worthy. But a lot of things had changed since I started dating Aaliyah. When she came around, people fell to their knees, praying to her poison because the antidote was just as sweet.
                          
But really, who was I kidding? I was kneeling too. I would trash the world then burn it down– just so she could watch me do it. That's what happened when you fucked with a goddess. 
                          
You got a little colder.
                          
After our first kiss, I was frozen. From the marrow in my desolate bones, to the ichor in my ugly soul, I was hers, completely. This was my world, sure–but it was her universe.
                          
The King only ruled because the Queen let me.
                          
             "How'd she take it?" I took a few steps into the kitchen, then folded my arms over my chest, waiting for A'keem's answer.
                          
            "Better than I expected." He stood up from his seat, low-key pissed and trying to hide it.
                          
            After what I had asked him to do for me tonight, I could understand why he was upset.
                          
            Not that I gave a shit though.
                          
            "Look, man, I didn't mean for things to turn out this way..." A'keem said. "I just got caught up. I know what it is--I know Peyton is off-limits--"
                          
            "Fuck Peyton." Just the sound of that girl's name had me ready to climb walls. "Half of this mess is her fault--"
                          
            "Yo, just because she has a few secrets, doesn't mean she'd try to kill Aaliyah--"
                          
            "The only reason you're saying that... is cuz you're fucking the girl who wants to be her." I walked closer, until I smelled the tequila that had given him the courage to lie to my girlfriend's face. "Too bad Peyton isn't Ali, right? Tell me, what did my sloppy seconds taste like? Was it as... dry as I remember?"
                          
            A'keem's jaw tightened; I had to laugh in his face–so I did–because while he was eating cake in the desert every night... I was swimming in the ocean.
                          
            Maybe I was harsh, at the very least I was a prick--but I wasn't shitting on my bestie's parade simply because he had messed around my ex. I was fucking with A'keem, because every single time he had ever gotten with Peyton... I knew he was imagining Aaliyah while he did it.
                          
            I saw it in his face every time he looked at her. 
                          
When Aaliyah came around, A'keem turned into every other sad, horny, mouth-breather–undressing her with his eyes, saving mental images for later, sobbing while he jerked to her Instagram–because knew he would never have the real thing.
                          
            A'keem squared his shoulders, like he was ten seconds from sending my ass to a better place. 
                          
"Well, if you didn't care about Peyton--then why did you ask me to lie to your girlfriend?"
                          
            "Because, Aaliyah needs her boyfriend to be a hero." I poked A'keem in the chest. "And because you owe me, chump."
                          
            "Yeah? Well, if your girl ever finds out it was really you who set that fire, then we'll see who the chump is... bitch."
                          
            Together, we smirked.
                          
            "On the real though..." A'keem raised his chin. "Thanks for what you did earlier--back at the studio. You didn't have to watch out for me--"
                          
            "Seriously? If I hadn't been there to hold him back, Cody would've flattened your dumb ass. For all we know, he still might--which puts me in a really shitty position. Don't make me take sides, man. He's shady as shit, but until Aaliyah says she's done with Cody, I have to put up with him. And so do you."
                          
"I know, dawg, I know--"
                          
                   
                          
"Then be easy--and kill this shit with Peyton. Because if she would really push Ali just to keep her away from me, what do you think Peyton'll do to you if you go after her real boyfriend? Huh? Think about it."
                          
Nodding, A'keem hung his head.
                          
"She seems so innocent..."
                          
"She is," I replied. "Until you get her high."
                          
A Coke buzz was just as efficient as liquid courage.
                          
And twice as deadly.
                          
"I gotchu, man." A'keem gave me dap, following it up with a conciliatory bro-hug. "So... We're good, right?"
                          
"Nope..."
                          
No warning.
                          
No regret. 
                          
I punched my best friend in the stomach, throwing my weight into it like we were in the ring. 
                          
A'keem doubled over, arms hugging his sides as he coughed and wheezed. And to show him just how much I meant what I said, I grabbed him by the back of the neck, and held him in place. When I spoke, it was in his ear, so that the truth would have a direct path to his poor confused brain.
                          
"Just so we're clear, she's not going anywhere. Ever. So, the next time you fantasize about stealing my girlfriend... don't." 
                          
I patted A'keem on the back–Mr. Good Guy, once again. 
                          
"Now we're even."
                          
*  *  *