Everett Gray Monologue

Everett Gray couldn’t tell you the last time he could properly breathe. Even during hockey competitions, there had always been an issue where he couldn’t quite get the amount of air that he really needed to keep going. Sweat would run down his cold skin, as he pulled at the collar of his uniform. His chest would heave, yet all the air seemed to get stuck in his throat, turning into a suffocating lump. He felt his phone vibrating in his pocket, but he refused to make a move to look at the messages being sent. The ruffled bed sheets wrinkled as he turned away from the device, as small wheezes could be heard coming from his voice. It was probably the group chat congratulating his best friend. Carl James was engaged to Clarissa Monet. It was hard for him to believe, and he didn’t want to believe it either. He couldn’t stand seeing her, all
pristine and pretty, standing next to Carl, her small frame shaking as she laughed at some lame joke he had made. Light bouncing off her jewelry, casting splotches of light all over the room. And Everett would be standing off to the side, nervously biting his lips as he watched him bend down to- He stifled a small sob. He could feel the tears beginning to bead at the corners of his eyes, could feel his lashes beginning to stick together from the dew. But he told himself he was better than that, that it was pointless to cry, and he had been through much, much, worse. Despite trying to convince himself that, he couldn’t seem to recall a moment that was more painful than now. He buried his face in his pillow, his throat feeling tight. Carl James was engaged to Clarissa Monet. He was onto a new chapter of his life. He was ready to finish school, ready to move into a new home, ready to take on new responsibilities, ready to take care of his- He couldn’t finish the thought.
~
Carl had met Clarissa in their third year of college. The two of them had been walking in the library together, Everett teasing him while he scowled and looked away, calling him some half-hearted insult. He still remembered the smell of old books engulfing him, the quiet whispers from the people around him, binders and pencils messily laying on the tables surrounding them. He still remembered the rough scratch of the blue seat he was on when Carl had suddenly stopped talking, his eyes trained on something behind him. Everett had turned around to see what he was staring at, his breath hitching when he saw her. He could practically hear Carl’s heartbeat quicken as their eyes met with each other. He could see the light blush coating her cheeks as she moved to tuck a strand of hair that had managed to escape her ponytail. He paled as Carl made up a dumb story, excusing himself, then walked over to her. He picked at the skin around his fingernails, not wanting to see what would clearly happen next. He knew what would happen next. He would watch as she wrote down her number on a sheet of the blue stationery she always carried with her and look on as he firmly grasped it, smiling, promises to call her soon leaving his lips. Then he would walk back to him, nervously shoving the sheet into his pocket. By the time Carl made it back to the table, Everett’s fingers were bleeding.
~
“Carl~ Look what I have!” Everett held up a letter in his hand, the cursive print and heart-shaped stamp quickly giving away what it held. “It’s my fourth one this week!” Carl raised an eyebrow, rolling his eyes and lunging for the envelope, but Everett had faster reflexes. “Idiot, there’s no need to wave it around like it’s some sort of flag.” His tone was annoyed, but Everett still smiled, delivering a harsh poke to his side, grinning when his friend began to yell at him once more. It was the beginning of their last year in middle school. Everett had shot up over the summer, his features longer and more taut. His soft curls had grown out, framing his face. He had grown into the nice features of his face, quickly becoming a source of gossip in the school. While Everett had grown taller, Carl had gotten considerably more bulky. His tanned skin reflected how much time he had spent outside over the break, whereas Everett had just burned and turned red. Painful memories of his inflamed skin resurfaced, and he shuddered. “You’re just jealous, my dear.” He playfully winked at him, as Carl wrinkled his nose in disgust. “There’s nothing to be jealous for, stupid. Do you think that anyone wants to be you?” Everett pouted in response, his pink lips appearing more vivid against his pale face. “So mean, Carl!” He exclaimed, watching as he turned away, the back of his shirt clinging onto his torso. After he was sure that he was gone, Everett tore up the letter into as many pieces as he could manage, looking at how they all gracefully floated down to the bottom of the trash bin. This would be his fourth rejection of the week too, of course. He could already see poor Alice tearing up at him, before running away sobbing, after he had told her ‘no,’ in that same listless voice he always used. He knew it would never happen, of course, but he couldn’t help but hope that Carl would be the one to confess to him. Yet, he already felt the pang of rejection from him. He sadly stared at the remains of the note, before quickly picking up his bag and walking away briskly before the feeling of remorse had the chance to settle into his body.
~
This was the seventh time Carl had cancelled his plans with Everett in order to go out with Clarissa.
Of course, Everett had counted each one. Each time, he spent the day locked up in his room, refusing to leave until he had calmed down. His phone screen stared up at him, notifications from his friends all going ignored. He sank into his mattress, the harsh noises coming from his mouth rasping into the air. He shut his eyes, squeezing them together, before suddenly running to the bathroom, leaning over the toilet helplessly as he emptied all his body contained, which wasn’t enough to start with. In the beginning, it had all started innocently enough. Last minute cancels in order to take Clarissa on a date, but he would make it up the next day. Then weeks ahead of the event, he would call Everett with the same story, that she wasn’t free on any other day, and that he just had to be able to see her again, that he would be a terrible boyfriend if he were to leave her alone. And then he would say it’s okay, that he was thinking about doing something that day anyways, that he should go to her, it’s fine, when it really
wasn’t. He clutched the porcelain surface in front of him, tears beginning to pour down his face. He willed himself to stop crying, but he couldn’t. The cold surface glinted at him almost accusingly, and he found himself screaming, screaming for what exactly, he didn’t even know. All he knew was that he wanted to feel Carl’s warm hands on his back while his voice gently coaxed him into bed, tender grey eyes looking at him as a stray hand reached down to move a sweaty lock of hair. Then it occurred to him that he probably did that to Clarissa now too, except she wasn’t messed up in the head like he was- His fingers grasped the toilet seat as more bile rose in his throat. He didn’t know why he felt like this whenever he thought of her. At least, that’s what he convinced himself as he willed for his tears to stop falling, and for him to keep the contents of his stomach where they belonged.
He brought a shaky hand to run through his hair, and stood up to face himself in the mirror. He caught a glimpse of himself, and had to look away, disgusted by his own appearance.
Purple circles were under his eyes as red veins started to climb up them, threatening to overtake his delicate features. The skin on his hands felt rough, and he began to pick at a scab, willing for it to disappear. He reminded himself to buy more bandages- no one would want to see the mess that he turned into his hands. He scowled at himself before biting back a wince- the cuts on his lips protested against the movement.
It was already late enough that his ankles had begun to yell at him, begging for him to move to a softer surface, somewhere that they wouldn’t feel so much pressure.
He took a wary look at the bottle of medicine on the cabinet, before glaring at it with menace, and shoving it into the depths amongst many other bottles, ignoring it.
If he wasn’t able to look at it, he wouldn’t be able to think about it.
~
Everett slammed the trunk of his car down, sealing the last of his belongings. The announcement he made about moving was sudden. He hugged his landlady tightly, promising that he would soon be back to visit. He had been renting a room of her house, right out of the city. She had been nice enough to him, surprised at his sudden leaving.
He had quit his position as a choreographer at the skating school he worked at, and secured himself a job as an assistant teacher for a university with a team of skaters hoping to make it to nationals. The school was much smaller, of course, as his new location was in the country.
The drive to his new place was long, but the feeling of the wind running through his hair thrilled him, the harsh sting of the cold wind invigorating. It had been so long since he had felt something, that he was welcome to the new sensation.
Everett hadn’t spoken to Carl ever since he had gotten news of the engagement, the bitter ‘Congrats!’ the last message he bothered to send to him. He swore to himself that he wouldn’t make a move to reach out to him until he had comfortably settled into his new home, five hundred miles away from him.
Once he finally arrived, he opened the door, his phone feeling like a dead weight in his pocket. He had already ignored two of his calls, the third now ringing. He dropped his bags, hearing the faint thud that they made on the wooden floor. Grabbing the phone out of his pocket, he looked at the screen, the name ‘Carl’ flashing across the screen, accompanied by a photo of him cheering for Everett on the bleachers of a skating rink.
He took a deep breath, before hitting the answer button.
“Do you need something, Carl?” He silently cursed himself for sounding shaky, his left hand slowly crawling down his leg to scratch at an itch that was not there.
“Hey! I’ve been trying to get in touch with you for a few days! What’s going on with you?” He shrank away from the phone on impulse, Carl’s loud voice deterring him.
“About that, I kind of, well, moved…?” It was hard for Everett himself to tell if he had made a statement, or asked a question. His nails dug into his thigh.
There’s a brief silence on the other side, and he found it hard to breathe for a moment.
“...What were you thinking, you idiot?” His tone was quiet but livid, and he could almost imagine the furrowed brows, the harsh steel gaze. “What made you think that moving out was a good idea?” He could practically feel the anger radiating off of him, and he wasn’t even there.
“Look, I- I’m sorry. I just thought that you would be occupied by the engagement, and I didn’t want to worry you. I’m not that far off either, I’m just in the country.” His answer came out rushed, and he let out a small cry when he felt his nails break through skin.
“Do you even know anyone where you are now? You had a good doctor here too, and you had a stable job. What was the point of any of this?”
“I secured myself a job here as an assistant teacher-for skating-and it’ll be okay, it’s a good change, I promise.” He cringed as he lied through his teeth.
“You didn’t even consult me about any of this! And-”
“I have to go, I still have all my things in the car. I’ll give you my address, but I- I have to go.”
He hung up the phone, watching as the screen went black, and everything fell silent again.
Yes. Everett Gray was fine. He was okay. He was okay.
He took a rough breath. Everything was okay.