. burnout

[isaac mcavoy]

Her brow furrows, her beautiful features creasing with confusion. Not a good sign. "I know," he agrees, and finally he sighs, frustrated by how fruitless it is to continuously agree. He had spent so much of his life fighting against everything that was levelled at him, his ego so huge and his skin so thin, any criticism felt like someone wishing him dead. Addiction therapy had taught him that his inability to accept responsibility would forever limit him, suspending him in amber, unable to grow or progress. But the initial novelty of that honesty had waned; he was tired, both of being himself and of talking about himself. Will wonders never cease. A groan, "don't do that. Please." As if he had a single leg to stand on. He drains the rest of his coffee, the liquid hot as it runs across his tongue though he doesn't care. "It wasn't nothing. Obviously it wasn't nothing Lily, you don't need to write an album to prove that."

[lily mccarthy]

The phrase continued to strike even after his exasperated confirmation, something sparking in Lily the more she wound herself up over it. I had hoped that we'd be different. He'd taken away her agency to prove that they were, had chosen to define them the way he wanted to over public airwaves because he could. Had consequences become so mindless to him that he could stare, impassive, at the trail of destruction in his wake? Admit the truth like a mindless mnemonic, unfeeling and uncaring? Maybe it was her turn to make a choice of her own. Be selfish for once in her life - something someone had told her before, resolve steeling when her eyes flicked up. "Don't what, write about obsession?" Lily starts, head tipping just so as she studies him. "About being vulnerable, or...or taking a risk, or falling in love? I think lots of people write about those things." Her voice only steadies, sharpens, under the breath she takes, corner of her lip flicking up as if amused. As if the plan was formulating in her head the more it rushed out loud. "I'm allowed to choose how I talk about it, too, and maybe that's how I want to do it. Maybe...I want to make an album that does the opposite of break your heart. And maybe I want to win a Grammy, and everyone will know it was your mistake that got me there."

[isaac mcavoy]

As fixed on his coffee as his eyeline currently is, Lily's agitation is radiating off her in waves. Her voice shifts as she pushes the point further, refusing to accept his hollow platitudes and his well worn apologies, heard so many hundreds of times before. Usually they would have been delivered with more passion, but there's something about Lily that disarms him, enables him to see it from her side and ultimately, to root for her. If he wasn't himself and she explained this scenario to him, Zac knows he would tell her to steer well clear, so it feels insincere to fight any harder than he has thus far. Which is to say, to fight at all. "Falling in love?" He can't help but echo. Everything that follows gets jumbled up in his head, not what he'd expected. It's hard to process. She seems to be saying this won't be a heartbreak album, which in truth was the honesty that he feared, and yet she still seems to be attributing it to him... in any case, it seemed she wasn't going the Baylor route, and that at least was reassuring to him. He sighs, running a hand over his face, his most characteristic tic. "Do what you want Lily, you know I'm rooting for you and your music all the way."

[lily mccarthy]

"You knew that," Lily reminds, unsurprised it was what he chose to pick up on. Memories pulled back to dry, New Mexico air and the shocked part of her lips when her own confession had torn from them. His gentle push for clarity, that classic Isaac tell, maybe you should try not to, as if they hadn't come too far. It feels so long ago now, something so much lighter about them in the past, even if there'd been that strangled silence. A stray flush betrays her when she recalls the other things they'd said to each other that night, shoving it back down with another long sip. "I like falling in love. It doesn't have to be miserable, even if it doesn't work out," she murmurs, unenthused with his response. As if he'd given up somewhere along the conversation, her eyes darting away in further annoyance. "So if that's my choice, and I look like an idiot when everyone figures it out then it's fine. At least I was honest." Something that didn't feel like them anymore, Lily pressing her palms against the table to get up. Pocketing the chips, jacket pulled tight around her frame as she eyed the inky darkness that had taken over outside. She checks the time on her phone before remembering something, moving to unblock his number. Laughing at the last message that had been sent, as harsh as it had been. "I forgot about that text."

[isaac mcavoy]

Isaac did know it, but he's still surprised to hear it. Often the people around him reneged on certain things when he pushed them to it, but it spoke to Lily's strength of character that she was standing by it, unable or maybe just unwilling to let his behavior dictate hers. He takes the opportunity to study the face that he had spent so much time thinking about, the deep hazel of her eyes, her distinctive mouth. She looked different to him, like she was occupying her own body more, somehow. It didn't help that she was visibly irritated with him, though that was something that was all too familiar. "I've said the wrong thing. I'm sorry." There it was again: sorry. Sorry, sorry, sorry. How many times had he said that one word in his lifetime? He ought to get it tattooed across his forehead. He sighs heavily, exasperated by the limitations of his own vocabulary, wishing he could somehow impress upon her the strength of his feeling. Though he hadn't exactly been doing a good job of trying, he knows. She gets up and he feels defeated, sitting back and slipping down slightly where he's sat, willing to let her go. But then she laughs, and he laughs lightly too. "I knew it wasn't you, though I'm sure it was your sentiment all the same." Without thinking, he reaches up and takes her hand, looking up at her. "Don't go."

[lily mccarthy]

It was funny how things changed. Still across from each other at the table, eyes scouring every shift of emotion or flickering feature, looking for clues. But this time Lily felt more comfortable in her belief in what they'd had. No longer a bubble caught in her throat, eyes like a deer in the headlights as she grappled with trying to place it. They'd always loved one another - an inevitable with what they'd all been through - but she knew now she'd fallen for him across those state lines. Evidence clear as day in the blown out photo strip she had hidden in on of her notebooks, no longer embarrassed when she acknowledged it. His lack of fight, choosing to hide behind apologies and tentative, almost press like answers, was what was really bothering her. A few feet away but feeling like miles, they'd dug into the why but not the now. Where did this leave them, now? What did he want to do, now? Lily waves off his apology, a hint of warmth shining through when the infamous text is acknowledged. "I do like your music," she admits, blowing the thinly veiled cover. "You should make more of it." Her gaze slips to the door, then snaps back when his hand covers hers. Instinctively lacing their fingers together, expression neutral and mind unsure where she wanted his next words to go. "Why should I stay, when you feel so resigned? This is the most you've fought for something this whole time."

[isaac mcavoy]

The closeness they shared had made it easy to fall in love, though it had also made it so that Isaac could hardly tell it was happening. He had so much affection for her as his best friend's sister, admiration for her as a fellow musician and devotion to her as a friend, when he'd fallen hard it had been obscured by all of the above, only becoming clear when they spent a brief spell apart. It was that realisation that had panicked him and kicked off the string of events that led to them being here now. "I know you do," finally an opportunity to flash his signature grin, a hint of his usual overconfidence shining through. Her hand feels smooth and warm under his, her fingers lacing between us and prompting a surge of affection. The hesitance that follows hurts all the more for it, deserved as it may be. "Is that what you want, a fight? Do you want to hear a million excuses, for me to get down on my knees and beg you to forgive me? I'll do all of that if that's what you want, Lily."

[lily mccarthy]

That smile. Teasing and warm, stealing hearts across stadium screens with a quick flash on his face. Lily reaches across with her free hand, pushing her finger into the dimple that had formed to shove it away. A habit of old, the same thing she'd done years ago when they were younger and it was tossed her direction. Flickering back and forth between her frustration and the feelings that hadn't faded, unsure of her own footing let alone what she wanted when the question is turned back on her. "I wanted to be together," she replies, voice dipping lower with a lick of poignant honesty. Unsure if she'd ever said those words out loud, if they'd ever been that direct. So used to dancing around unspoken feelings and veiled lyricism. They were writers; it could be a vague or as romantic as they wanted. But stripped back it was what she had wanted. Now the hesitance rang out, grip tightening as she looked down at him. Upper hand both in decision and her vantage point, deep breath rolling from her lips as his words toil in her mind. "But I think if you can change your mind so quickly, so publicly set your own record straight without talking to me about it, then I don't think you were ready for that." Features softening in sadness, the stark reality of who they were to one another. "It's me, Zac. Maybe you were right, maybe I'm not the risk to take if you don't want forever."

[isaac mcavoy]

The dynamic they had once shared in this hallowed space had shifted completely. The booth still carried a ghost of afternoons spent scribbling away in notebooks, sharing endless portions of fries, seeming as alien as the most farfetched sci fi movie. He had unwittingly handed her reigns, failing (as he so often did) to fully consider the consequences of his actions. Her use of past tense is the final twist of the knife and he lets go of her hand. Reaching in to his inside jacket pocket he pulls out his wallet, dropping an excessive value of notes and getting up himself.  The change in vantage point feels more comfortable, though his dejection has only intensified with the finality of what she's saying. If he were less self-pitying he would be able to hear the hope in her voice, or at least to be able to tell that her dejection must at least in part be a response to his. "Obviously I wasn't ready for it." That much they can agree on. "And what about what you want? You want marriage, kids-- I told you forever ago that those weren't on the cards for me. Are you just pretending like that isn't a huge hurdle for us? Or did you assume I'd change my mind, because it's you?"

[lily mccarthy]

Her eyes drift upward as he stands, holding his gaze. This conversation held weight, something minutes ago she'd have left without. Finally dropping the pretenses, the harsh of what happened and the expected apology to chip at more. Lip worried in between her teeth as she acknowledges the major...everything, that stood in their way. It was unfair how feelings could be so intense, love someone so much, and know in the end that wouldn't make a difference. Funny how he wants to fight now. Her hands feel hollow, crossing them against her chest as they stood, so close and still so far. "You told me not too long ago you'd been thinking about kids," she reminds, remembering how startled she'd been at his admission. Tiptoeing around her responses, trying not to let any hope flicker. A smart decision now, eyes narrowing in question. "Was that just some vague mention so I'd stay on the hook?"

[isaac mcavoy]

She raises a valid point, though it prompts another bubbling up of frustration in him, his hands opening up to the heavens as he shrugs. "I don't fucking know, Lily! I don't know anything. You think I've got some sort of plan, that I do things intentionally, but I don't, I just.. say them. There's no plot against you, I say as much to put you off as I do to keep you interested--" he breaks off, conscious that it's quiet in the diner and other patrons are turning to look at them. Not wanting to create a scene he heads out, his hands shoved in his pockets as he steps out into the night.  It gives him an opportunity to pause. After another sigh, he turns to look at her, shrugging again with his hands still in the pockets of his weathered biker jacket. "What do you want me to say? Does it even matter what I do or don't want at this point? What do you want? Because you've told me what you wanted, past tense, but you still haven't said what it is you want now. I'm all ears."

[lily mccarthy]

"But you knew that--" she starts to snap, quieting as he does. Defeated that this place they'd loved so much was watching their destruction now, voice clipped and low as she finishes her thought. "You knew...you know...nevermind, it doesn't fucking matter now." Wincing at her own harshness as she follows him out into the cold, chilled even further by the dipping weather and the ache in her heart. Because he'd been a miscalculated risk. She was the fool once again, falling for the wrong guy, realization bruising and unavoidable as she dug her hands into her own pockets. "I don't know either!" Lily finally bursts, mimicking his shrug. "I love you," it'll kill me, "but I want what I won't get from you. And I know that I will break myself trying to make this work, because I will always put myself through hell for people who can't, or won't, do the same for me." It all catches up with her then, freeing her hands to cover her face, deep breaths rebuffing off the skin of her palms until she lifts them away from her mouth so he can hear. "So I can't. I need to take the out you gave me, Zac."

[isaac mcavoy]

Given how spectacularly bad his judgment often was, it was easy to forget that Isaac had once been a pre-med student, his brain one surprisingly adept at problem solving. It was just a shame that he tended to be the maker of his own problems in the first place, addiction the architect though letting that win now felt so spectacularly stupid in a way it never had before. Because he'd had a taste of what could be, sobriety in his grasp in a way that it hadn't been since he was seventeen, max. It's this realization that spurs him to use his rational brain, to turn away from her and take a moment, taking everything they've hurled at each other and twisting it around, turning it like a Rubiks cube to try and make sense of the disorder he had designed. Finally he turns back, taking a deep breath. "I'm sorry." There it was again, though this time it's the beginning of a thought, rather than an ending. "I've really fucked this up. I love you. I love you for loving me, that's part of the problem, but I love you for you more, which is novel for me. It's been... a lot." Another deep breath, a rub of his weary face. "I'm sorry I couldn't be the man you deserve. One day I hope I can be, though I'm sure it'll be too late, and I'll never stop kicking myself for that."

[lily mccarthy]

It was always going to be a battle of head and heart. Sweet, methodical Lily, so stubborn when it came to her music but so soft when it came to her love, always fighting for one and refusing to fight against another. Feeling things big, as her father had, the ache for him so sudden and swift it only crumbled her further. Made this loss feel even more palpable, hands coming down to hang loose at her sides. Even if it was the right choice, the right thing, the hurt always doubled as a second guess. What did right even mean in the grand scheme of things? Because it rationally shouldn't feel like this, right? Her heart slow and eyes heavy, drifting back up from the pavement. Hearing love confessions that felt like a death sentence, wildly thinking she could kiss him right now, satisfy the curiosity that had taken hold during late, delirious nights and never have to look back. But she also knows people are watching, that someone probably sees them, tucking the thought away with the single thread of hope she'd been spinning around her fingers. Resigned in where they'd have to leave things, nodding her head when the words went cold. "I'm sorry too," she finally whispers. For what couldn't be, for falling too hard, for knowing better. Everything, all of it, stepping closer to rest her hand against the sharp of his jaw, thumb soft over the camber of his cheek. Studying, always studying, trying to commit something to memory with her flickering gaze. "Go make peace with my brother, ok?" A lofty ask but she knows he'll need it, because she will, too. Pushing back on her heels to step away, keys dragged from her pocket and wrapped loosely around her wrist before another thought slips through. "You'll figure it out...how to stop destroying things. People." It's sudden but strong, a strange conviction set in her tone. "Just don't destroy your progress, ok? I meant it." She clicks the chips together in her pocket, as much hers as they were his. "I want more."

[isaac mcavoy]

For all his declarations to the contrary, it's only in this moment that the true weight of his consequences starts to sink in. Lily's elastic patience had been brought to its tautest point, and though it hadn't fully snapped, it wasn't going to just bend back, either. A creeping melancholy takes over him, his mind wandering to the thought of a stiff drink, his willpower weak against that and weakening against worse. The first thing he'll have to do after this conversation is call his sponsor, the second will be going to Taylor's and asking to be left alone. Like Lily, he had no trust in himself to do anything else. She closes the gap between them, her hand against the stubble of his jaw. He leans into it, instinctively turning to kiss her palm, his eyes closing for a second as she apologizes. "I will." Maybe he would go to Joey instead, give Taylor the night off. Maybe that vulnerability would be the first step in a positive direction. She pulls away and it's too soon, he feels her absence like a death, the ground feeling shakier beneath his feet. Her final request makes a lump rise in his throat and he has to look away from her, down at his feet as he lets out a hollow laugh. "How do you do that? You always know exactly what I'm thinking."