5555 - Chapter 13: Estelle

(Tw for alcoholism)

Estelle bolted straight up as she woke, gasping. Another nightmare, She thought. Great.

She looked around the room to see if she’d woken anyone. Cynthia was still asleep in the sleeping bag beside her, and Dionysius and Tristan were still out cold on the couch. She sighed with relief before looking at the clock on the wall. 4:12am. Harley wouldn’t mind being woken up at 4am, right?

She trudged into Millie’s bedroom, where she figured Harley would be. She was proved right when she walked into the room to see the sleeping couple, Harley lying on top of Millie with his head resting on her chest as he wrapped his arms around her like a pillow.

Estelle felt a twinge of envy in her heart. Harley and Millie were so…open about their relationship. They never had anything to hide. They love each other, and not only that, they’re arranged to be married. They’re practically the only type of people that are allowed to fall in love. They could hold hands without getting suspicious glances. They could kiss without getting yelled at. They could share a bed and no one would bat an eye, so long as they didn’t have children until the required age of 20. Estelle found herself suddenly remembering a conversation she had with Harley a few months prior.

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“Millie’s really happy about the whole child thing,” He had said. “And I’m happy for her. But the thing we can agree on is that the whole process is…well, you know…”

“Millie’s asexual. I remember you saying that.” She had responded. “But…what do you have against it?”

“A lot. For one, I’d hate being the one to put Millie in that situation, especially if she doesn’t want it. I’ve had…” His voice trailed off, and they sat in silence for a bit.

“You’ve had what?”

Harley ignored her. “Anyway, there’s also the fact that I just don’t think I’d be a good dad. But it’s not like I won’t be there, like Dio’s and Tris’s parents, but something like your dad.”

“Don’t say that, Harley.” Estelle had warned. “Don’t compare yourself to my dad. Please. You’re nothing like him.”

“You don’t know that, Estelle.”

“But I do. I know it with my heart and soul. You’re the most caring person I’ve ever met. What makes you think you’d be a shitty dad?”

“I’m not exactly the kind of person that you’d want to raise a kid with.” Harley had answered. “There’s a lot wrong with me, Estelle.”

“Name one thing.”

He hesitated. “At parties, when I start drinking, it’s hard to stop. Like, really hard. I tell myself ‘God, I could just get lost in this forever.’ And sometimes I do. I’ve had to be dragged home from parties because I blacked out. That’s a bad thing, Estelle. When I’m 21 and can legally drink, nothing would be able to stop me. I’d be a monster. You’ve seen how that stuff can affect your dad. That could be me. Does that make you think I shouldn’t be a dad, or should I keep going?”

“So you have a drinking problem. That’s normal for most teens. You still have time to stop it in its tracks.” Estelle advised, hoping that she was right.

Harley shook his head. “This ‘drinking problem’ is different from others. You could ask Millie about that. When I get drunk, I get mad. Really mad. I…” He had started to sob, and that’s when it clicked for Estelle.

“Was one of your parents an alcoholic?” She had asked.

Harley shook his head as he sobbed. “Not that I know of. My guardian wasn’t one either. I don’t know why I’m like this.”

Harley’s guardian. It was a rare occasion that they were mentioned. Supposedly, they had adopted him after the Exile of his mother when he was nine. Harley had never told her if they were a man or a woman, but whatever they were, they were pure evil. She didn’t know much about what they’d done other than instances of physical abuse. At some point they had abandoned Harley, and he’d never seen them after that.

“We’ll figure it out, Harley. Millie and I will help you through this, okay?”

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Estelle was sure that Harley’s “drinking problem” had never stopped. In a stupid moment of gratitude, she was thankful that Harley couldn’t go to any more parties and drink. She stepped toward the bed and hesitantly touched Harley’s shoulder.

Like a military soldier, Harley bolted awake in not even a second. And, also like a military soldier, Harley had grabbed her hand as tight as he could, sending a sharp pain up her shoulder, making her almost cry out.

Harley glared at her with an angry expression and clouded eyes for a split second before his face fell, and he let go of her arm. Estelle held the arm to her chest, resisting tears. “Don’t worry. It’s just me.”

Harley sighed, and just like that, his sarcastic facade returned. “God, please don’t do that again. You gave me a heart attack.”

Estelle flexed her hand, the pain starting to soften. “Sorry. I had a nightmare.”

“No, no, I should be the one apologizing. I didn’t mean to hurt you. It was just a force of habit.”

What kind of psychopath could you have lived with where you had to defend yourself the second you woke up?

“I’m fine, Harley. It’s not even hurting anymore.”

Harley nodded. “Okay. You said you had a nightmare? Do you need anything? Water? A distraction?”

“Harley, your motherly side is showing.”

“Hey, I know what it’s like having shitty nightmares. I’m just stating from experience.”

“It wasn’t a dad nightmare, though. It was…” She dug into her brain for any kind of recollection. “I don’t remember, but whatever it was scared me out of my wits. So I came to you. Like you said, force of habit.”

“I’m really your nightmare go-to?”

“You understand me better than the others. If I even tried to tell them about my dad, they’d say ‘If he’s so bad, why don’t you leave him?’ You get it! I mean, how long did you live with your guardian—“

Estelle stopped dead in her tracks. She knew she’d just crossed a line by mentioning his guardian.

Harley glared at her for only a second before saying “Five years.”

She knew she shouldn’t continue talking about this topic, but curiosity burned inside her. “You were fourteen when they left?”

Harley hesitated. “Yes.”

“Do you know why they left?”

“No. Look, can we talk about something else—“

“Look, I’m just wondering why I tell you every little thing of my life, but you’re practically a mystery to everyone.”

“If I told you, you probably wouldn’t be able to take it.”

“Try me.”

“I don’t think I will.”

“That’s not fair.”’

“You of all people should know that life isn’t fair. Goodnight, Estelle.”