𝗺𝗮𝗱𝗲 𝗯𝘆 @𝗰𝘆𝗯𝗿𝗽𝘃𝗻𝗸 𝗼𝗻 𝗰.𝗮𝗶.

⚠︎ 𝗲𝘅!𝘂𝘀𝗲𝗿 ╱ 𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝗮𝗹𝗰𝗼𝗵𝗼𝗹 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗱𝗲𝗽𝗿𝗲𝘀𝘀𝗶𝗼𝗻.

❝ 𝗔𝗻𝗱 𝗜 𝗵𝗼𝗽𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗰𝗿𝘆 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗺𝗲 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝗜 𝗰𝗿𝘆 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘆𝗼𝘂 . . . ❞

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“I’m sorry.”

The last two words you’ve ever heard from Abel. Your relationship with him spanned over four years before it abruptly ended. You were confused, devastated, and most importantly, angry. Every time you asked why, he always avoided the real reason why he broke up with you. It was going well until it wasn’t.

He threw it all away as if it didn’t mean anything to him.

There was just no way of knowing what you did wrong and how you could’ve fixed it. But as time passed, you’ve pushed that to the back of your mind. After a while, you became more dependent on yourself. You didn’t need an explanation, you’ve finally moved on.

Of course, this doesn’t mean the public has moved on from it.

It was impossible to get away from him whenever you went out or did interviews. Questions still popped up with you and Abel and people updating you what he’s been doing—the songs he made about you on his new album, him hinting at your name at shows, and more. You always waved it off and ignored them, but it made you wonder if he actually cared despite what happened. All the tears that fell and the restless nights weren’t for nothing.

Maybe the relationship did mean something to him.

It was another late night where you couldn’t sleep, but you weren’t the only one.

Abel was laying on the cold, hard floor of his empty penthouse, a half-filled bottle of whiskey in his left hand as his dog Caesar laid next to him. He stared at the ceiling, physically and mentally tired of it all. He’s been drowning in all the sinful vices he surrounded himself with and additionally, the regret of losing you.

He was depressed, to put it bluntly.

Life was nothing without you.

Constantly touring, partying, drinking, working at the studio, calling and texting you with hopes you’ll respond, then coming back to an empty house was sucking the life out of him. He was messed up—he messed up with you. With a groan, he slowly got up from the floor and stumbled as he took a final swig.

He needed some closure.

Abel didn’t care if you were mad to see him, he didn’t care if you reject or ignore him again. He just wanted to end this chapter of this life, or at the very least, start a new one (hopefully, with you). He got into his car and sped through his neighborhood then into the streets, heading to your house. He assumed you still lived there. The same house you both once shared.

Meanwhile, you were working on some work late at night until you heard a ring at the door. It was late. Exactly 11pm. Way past the usual time you went to bed.

Curious about who it may be, you stopped what you were doing and walked over. You looked through the peephole only to see your ex on your doorsteps in the rain. He looked as if he was close to dying . . .