He had no memory of what happened next, how he got home, when the searing headache faded, how he found himself driving to his house the next evening. The music was blaring in his car, his ears drumming with the sound, he dragged a hand through his hair and rested it at the back of his neck, his eyes were burning, and every now and then spots would appear in front of his vision. He would swerve the car abruptly fearing he might hit someone, but nobody else was there. The road that took him to Bilal's was deserted. The sun was setting down on the horizon. The day was coming to an end, and with it so much more, things not in our reach.
His mother wasn't home, she rarely was. The maid told him he was by the pool, drinking, something he'd been doing for the last few days; drank all day until he blacked out, got up and drank again.
Sure enough he was there, though Hadi wouldn't want to call it. Bilal seemed lost. Hadi felt he was being stabbed on the gut when he saw him. Collapsed into a heap by the wall in a corner, empty bottles of wine lying around him, one was so close to the edge of the pool, one nudge and it'll propel down, sinking into the water. Rubbing his eyes with the heel of his hands, again and again, not pausing, not breaking off, as if there was something stuck in front of his vision, his eyes, as if he couldn't clearly see.
Hadi went to him, taking small uneven steps, weak at knees, and crouched down planting his hands on his knees. Bilal gave a start, startled, eyes bloodshot and wide as they took him in.
"Hey," Hadi said through the lump forming in his throat.
With a sudden jolt Bilal pulled him into a hug and resting his head on Hadi's shoulder he wept, tears wetting his shirt. Hadi took in a long shaky breath and waited until his sobs died down.
"Rohina called."
He felt Bilal tensed against him, and then with a jerk he pulled away, staring at him with eyes wide in horror.
Hadi dropped his gaze as he gave a slight nod. "She told me. I-I'm sorry, I'm sorry I didn't know, I had no fucking idea." He looked up, his voice was hoarse, "Why didn't you tell me?"
Bilal looked away. Why wasn't he saying anything?
"Say something. Tell me what can I do?" Hadi said in his desperation and regretted as soon as the words were out.
Bilal turned sharply, face twisted into an expression of profound agony. A laugh escaped his lips. "You come here after more than a week, because you know what I am-"
"You are not anything." Hadi interjected softly, but Bilal didn't seem to be listening.
"You come here and you ask what you can do."
"No no no, it came out wrong. I shouldn't have-"
"You can leave, that's what you can fucking do."
"Bilal listen to me-"
"Leave!" He yelled, his voice rough, a low guttural sound, "Get the fuck out of my house!"
Hadi hesitated before he moved back.
"Don't do anything stupid. I'm warning you."
"Get lost!" Bilal snarled.
He rose to his feet, looked at him for a moment and then turned. He ran a hand down his hair, wiped his eyes, and finally walked away.
Hadi left. He shouldn't have.
---
His phone was ringing, vibrating on the side drawer making a low buzzing sound. He didn't want to pick it up, it was still slightly dark out, the sun hadn't completely risen. He didn't really sleep through the night, and now his eyes were burning. Dragging his weight off the bed, he reached for the phone intending to switch it off, for its noise was wreaking havoc in his mind.
A low ding announced the arrival of a message.
PICK UP THE DARN CALL HADI MAHER
It was Sasha, she had also dropped 15 missed calls.
Swinging his legs down the bed, he pressed the phone to his ear.
"It's Bilal." She instantly said, her voice sounded strained, "he's, Hadi, he-oh my god, I can't-"
Hadi didn't hear another word after that, throwing his phone against the wall, he dashed out of the house, his mother calling his name behind him. He didn't listen, couldn't over the dull, monotone, screeching loud ringing in his ears, in his entire body. His blood had turned cold, heart wasn't beating at its normal rate, breathing was ragged. Nothing was normal.
He couldn't remember how he found his way to his house again, and kept repeating just one word over and over in his mind.
No, no, no, no
Someone was wailing inside the house. Hadi wanted to tell the person to shut up. He sprinted up the stairs, his mind hazy.
His feet took him to the room, the door to which was wide open. Sasha was sitting outside it, and someone in the room was crying. It sounded like a woman.
Upon hearing him reaching, Sasha jumped up and ran to him, just as he neared the door she collided into his chest, breaking into sobs. Hadi roughly pushed her away and stormed into the room, only to stagger back.
He was hanging limp, his entire body lax, neck twisted to an odd angle, eyes closed. Not breathing. Not there anymore. Not able to wake again, to talk or laugh, or so much as fucking see anything. He wasn't coming back. Bilal couldn't come back.
That's what happens when you leave. People you leave don't come back.
Fuck you Bilal Asif! Fuck you!
Hadi wanted to shout, scream, but it was useless. Bilal couldn't listen.
---