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The feeling of seeing them with Benji internally knocks Spencer on his ass. The twisty jealousy knots in his stomach in ways he’d fought for so long to ignore. He didn’t like this feeling. The way his heart thrummed against his ribs…The desire to shove Benji away from them. Take them for himself.
“Selfish.”
He swallowed it back down.
He shouldn’t concern himself with these emotions. No. He’d already “dealt” with Tristan earlier in the season. He’d rid himself of their presence. He’d disposed of a distraction. It was strategic. It was necessary. Sure he’d been eliminated, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t still sturdy in his beliefs and his reasonings. He’d done what he needed to do. He’d wanted to win, and Tristan stood in the way of that.
Their kind eyes…soft spoken tone…their optimism…charm…beauty…
“Stop it.”
Watching Tristan laugh at something Benji said, leaning into him slightly, face flushed with a dusty hue that made them look…Spencer had to rip his gaze away from the two. He couldn’t stomach staring any longer. His face flushed with embarrassment as he stomped off towards the motel. Why was he jealous? Why? Why was he so bent up? Tristan was a liability. Tristan was just another pawn in the game he’d wanted to play.
He couldn’t stand them. He couldn’t help but love them too.
Love.
What a daunting word. Looming over his head like a threat. How was he meant to assess that word? Was it love? Longing? The yearning desire to be swallowed up by the warmth that Tristan exuded? The warmth he’d never faced first hand. Always observing from a distance…He’d only seen that tenderness out of the corner of his eye or in passing…
Spencer was only ever met with a cold aloofness. Wayward glances that never lingered. Always hollow. Always empty. It brought about…some less than favorable feelings…Hatred? Anger? Desire? He wanted them to look at him like they looked at Benji. With that lingering look that made Spencer’s face burn.
He entered his room, slamming the door, tossing his bag to the side. His head throbbed dully as he fell back onto his bed. It wasn’t comfortable. The mattress groaned as he shifted slightly, grimacing at the stiffness of the bed itself. Great. Just what he needed.
Spencer closed his eyes and sighed. His head throbbed and he felt a slight icy feeling blooming in his chest.
“You’re doing it again.”
Spencer’s eyes opened to stare at the ceiling. He’d developed an odd sort of…copium…to deal with his feelings. Not the classiest of methods, but it helped him…naviagte…his emotions.
“Leave me alone.” He said aloud.
“I mean, you’re the one who started this.”
Spencer huffed and moved his arm over his eyes. “Stop it.” He muttered. He heard the familiar laugh echo in his ears. He wanted to wrap himself up in that laugh.
“I’m not real, Spencer, you can make me go away anytime.” The voice in his head continued. He could see their face so clearly in his head. He lowered his arm and sighed.
“I know that…but you make it impossible.” He murmured, opening his eyes. There…there they were. It wasn’t really them…no…Spencer changed a few things internally. Maybe to resolve the guilt of copium…Maybe for some sort of deeper satiation…He wasn’t sure…
“Tristan” stared down at him from where they hovered over the bed, looking at him with a silent resolve. “They’d think you’re weird for this…” They observed as Spencer sat up, running a hand over his face. Their “hands” coming to rest on his shoulders. The illusion of touch sending a chill up his spine.
He felt an unsettling discomfort settle into his gut. “You don’t think I’m not aware?” Spencer huffed, rolling his shoulders as if there were truly hands there. “I don’t even know why I’m doing this…I don’t even care about you.” His voice was bitter. Pure venom on the tip of his tongue. Behind him “Tristan” tsked.
“I’m sure.” They replied, voice sounding hollow. Even in his head, they were ice. He couldn’t escape the truth, even if this was his way of working through his previous on and off relationship.
That relationship wasn’t even anything he should be dwelling on. It was just…a toxic mess. On again, off again…four years he’ll never get back. He knew he couldn’t make them happy. He knew that. But god he’d like to try. Dating was the last thing on his mind. He wasn’t looking for that, but the desire to bask in Tristan’s light…that was what plagued him.
“Why can’t you just…” He trailed off.
“Just what?”
“See me…” Spencer replied weakly as “Tristan” came to stand in front of him. They looked at him with vacant eyes. They reached a “hand” out to touch his cheek and Spencer leaned into it with an almost…pathetic desperation. So desperately wanting it to be real. “Is that so much to ask..?”
“After what you’ve done…I’d say so…” They retracted their “hand” and Spencer closed his eyes. “Then again…I’m not actually Tristan. I’m just how you perceive them in your head. I’m what you want them to be…we both know that.” Their tone was cold, analytical, nothing at all like the usual feeling that resided in each word they spoke. “I can’t tell you how they feel…I know as much as you know.”
“Go away.” Spencer murmured, his voice wavering. “Go.” He squeezed his eyes shut tighter, balling his fists at his sides as his heart pounded in his ears. He felt…He hated that “Tristan” was right. He hated that they weren’t real. He hated that they were cold. That they hated him.
They fascinated him. They made his heart jump into his neck when they smiled. They were a liability. A remarkable liability…a beautiful…handsome…a liability. He kept telling himself that. They would have gotten in the way. They would have ruined his game. He could not afford to feel the way he felt. Not with Diego. Not with Tristan.
He got closure with Diego.
Tristan wouldn’t let him close enough for that. Tristan wouldn’t so much as look at him. Tristan would never see him.
The heartbeat got louder. It sounded like drums now. A thunderous drumming sound. His head throbbed. He wanted to scream, silence the sound, shatter it like glass.
Then it stopped. It stopped and all Spencer was met with was silence. He hesitantly opened his eyes and “Tristan” was gone. Spencer swallowed thickly.
Good. No more of that. He didn’t have this problem with Diego…why with Tristan? Why now? Was it an obsession? Was it an infatuation? He wasn’t sure.