In retrospect I always knew he had the ability to completely self destruct. He was always on the verge of it, inviting danger. Whether he was walking around Camden dressed like a woman or just being himself. But that’s what made him my best friend. The sheer insanity of wondering around London with a man who wouldn’t think twice about wearing shimmer eye shadow and a feather boa to go to the shops sometimes caught up with me, especially when we got stared at, normally by the ahh “chavs” for want of a better term. It used to make me wonder how long it would be til I got the phone call from Mike to tell me his brother had been beaten up for how he was dressed. Sometimes I wondered if that was what he wanted. I know he always used to tease me about smoking, but i never countered it with my own thoughts, there’s something about Noel that just stops you. Maybe it’s the disarming smile and the delicate blue eyes. Maybe it’s just because he dresses like a woman, I couldn’t honestly say.

I can still remember the first time he lured me back to his flat. He stopped in the doorway and turned towards me, unintentionally this now put us almost too close for comfort. Then he flashed me that disarming smile of his, and said: “You can come in but I warn you that you can never leave…” And I can’t remember what my exact response was, but i went in, and we sat up into the early hours drinking tea and talking. You seem to drink an extraordinary amount of tea if Noel is around, I’m not sure why, maybe it’s some unexplored phenomena. Because as the lovely Jo Brand once remarked, “Comedians like to smoke 80 fags a day and get drunk silly at every opportunity.” And yet around Noel you just end up drinking buckets and buckets worth of tea. He let me smoke in his kitchen that night, he isn’t big on it himself, maybe steal one when drunk, but no commitment to it. I’ve never understood why it’s acceptable to smoke in the kitchen, i mean, that’s where you make food. But each to their own.

I don’t think he had begun to fall apart that first night, he was still happy, chatty, sitting around in a tee-shirt and jeans, which, although fitted were not yet the spray on confections he currently favours. I was surprised to learn that this excitable delicate little man was only five years younger than me, it made me feel a bit old, but that soon passed. It’s hard to dwell on anything when Noel is there. And then he told me this story about a frog. And somehow we just hit it off. Things kind of snowballed from there. We were always together, drinking, talking, and messing about. He soon introduced me to his friends, Dave and Rich and others. I even got to meet his little brother, it was his birthday and we were all invited so i made the effort to get him a card with a fiver in it. So i guess I started off in good stead with the family. I did eventually introduce my new partners to my own family, and they got on well too. And somewhere in the back of my mind it all just seemed to be going to well.

Nothing became apparent until we started filming, but he was a very bizarre person to be around, easy going and touchy feely, but always insisting on getting changed on his own, or needing to know weeks in advance when he would be required to take off his jacket. I never really thought there was anything wrong with it at the time. But when i watch the stuff back i notice how even in interviews he has a jacket of some description on, something to cover his arms. I guess it just didn’t strike me as odd, i always had my Zooniverse jacket on, so it seemed like it was ok. Men as a whole aren’t big on exposing their arms. I think the alarm bells started to ring at last when he got so twitchy you couldn’t hug him anymore. He thought he was good at hiding it, but if you hugged him tightly he’d take a sudden breathe in and wince.

So by this point i guessed I’d worked out something was wrong. But i wasn’t sure who to speak to, because if it was, then he obviously didn’t want everyone knowing. Not me, not Mike. No one. So I turned to my old friend, the internet. I wasn’t sure what i was looking for, so i bumbled around until i ran across something. It was an article on a website called RYL, called “the cutting warning label” well I was almost entirely convinced I was barking up the wrong tree, but I was desperate, hours of searching had yielded nothing so far. So I read it. I can vividly remember everything it called up inside me, disgust, fear, horror. I think I was crying by the time i finished. Because the knowledge that there were people out there who felt that bad, so bad that the only way they could cope was to cut open their own bodies. I didn’t know how to respond. But there were bits in that article that endeared directly to my best friend. Recoiling from touch, long sleeves. I thought i knew what was wrong. But i didn’t know where to begin. So I sat down and wrote him a letter.

I mean, it sounds so stupid, but it seemed like the best thing to do. I enclosed a copy of the article and added a PS to the effect that he could talk to me. Then I posted it and spent the next week in absolute agony every time i saw him. Wondering if it had arrived, if he had read it, if he would even respond. Perhaps, my fevered brain said, he would just ignore it, back away from me, because i was invading his personal space. But then it happened, a rainy Thursday afternoon just over a week since i had posted that letter. I was sat at home, a CD playing quietly whilst i read and drank tea. Occasionally breaking off to air guitar, i am after all human, and anyone with taste has air guitared to Santana at some point. And then the door bell rang, so i drained my tea and levered myself out of the chair, not expecting anyone.

And the door opened and there was Noel, umbrella hooked over one arm and a puppyish look on innocence on his face. The bottom of my stomach pretty much just dropped out. I invited him in, shaking. “Tea?” and he agreed, as if he wouldn’t. It gave us both the time to think. But what felt like far too soon the kettle was boiled and the tea bags stewed. I returned to the other room, crossing the divide from tiles to carpet to where Noel was already ensconced in the right hand part of the sofa, boots stood neatly on the floor so he could put his feet up guilt free. I suddenly noticed he was wearing a cardigan, presumably something he often did when not expecting to see people, since they were easier to move in. It made me smile to realise it was one of mine, the things i tried to avoid wearing that Noel frequently spirited away to transform. But this one was untransformed, just a loose grey cardigan, somehow looking out of place on him. Being Noel it was teemed with a pair of frighteningly fitted bright purple jeans and a black tee-shirt bearing the name of a band i didn’t know, but it looked out of place on him.

And so we sat for a bit, drinking tea from our respective mugs. His was a Gary Newman one that i always seemed to set out for him, mine was a Charlie Parker one, he bought it for my last birthday. Somehow it was so utterly Howard and Vince it was scary. It was almost as though he had read my mind because he looked at his mug and laughed softly, sipping from it. I laughed to, although briefly, and it broke the not silence that had descended. Santana was still playing, but no-one spoke, which was the bizarre thing. The not quite silence continued, but then suddenly Noel broke it. Clearing his throat to speak. I nearly had a heart attack. “I got your letter” he said. Looking at me with wide eyes.

[nextpage title=”Chapter Two”]

Chapter Two

Author’s Notes: i don’t own anything except the plot and the words on the page

I practically fainted on the spot, at least my head span and my vision blurred and i tried to prepare myself for the worst. “Oh?” was the most eloquent response i was able to formulate, although there were a million things tumbling over each other in my mind trying to get out. “Yeah.” He said, studying his own, sock clad feet. “I did kinda wonder how long it would be ‘til you worked it out.” He admitted. And i wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or not. I still felt oddly guilty, as though I’d walked in on my lover cheating with someone and had been convinced it was my fault. But it was different in a way i couldn’t quite explain, Noel was idly nodding to himself, and I suddenly became aware that I was holding my mug rather too hard and the heat was finally communicating it’s self through my palms to my brain. I loosed my grip and put my cup down on the coffee table, murmuring: “Do you think i could take a look?” I turned to look at him and saw him tense, but then he relaxed and nodded. Slowly reaching a hand up to his cardi buttons. Then he paused, stood up and restarted. It was like some strange parody of a strip tease. Although the notion only made me feel sick. It seemed the same thought had crossed Noels mind because he paused, the cardigan just off his shoulders to say, “This makes me feel like some kind of a prozzie.” And then he laughed, and i laughed. And the tension that should have come in the moment when his arms were revealed was gone.

I couldn’t help but wince softly myself looking at them; it was like a horrible criss crossed mesh of cuts and scars, red on white. But then i was aware of him hooking his thumbs into the lower edge of his tee-shirt to take that off too. I knew I couldn’t take anything seriously anymore, it was all too mad, so i joked at him, Howard fashion. “Whoa there little man, steady on.” And to my immense relief he caught on, casting his tee-shirt to the ground with the cardi, revealing as similar latticework crossing his chest and stomach as he began to fiddle with his belt, there for decorative purposes only. “Don’t worry,” he grinned, “It’s not for you.” And somehow by making it a joke it was okay for him to be stood there in his socks and underwear, showing me that there wasn’t much skin left without angry red welts across it. And something almost motherly broke in me. I was half torn between wanting to shout at him for doing this to himself, and wanting to gather him up into a hug that would make everything go away. Fortunately for Noel, i settled with the second, closing the space between us in two short steps, i reached out and he sort of melted into my embrace, holding me tightly as i pulled him too me, careful not to put pressure on him. It felt strange that his back was smooth and pale, since the last time i had seen it there had been cat-like scratches down it.

The moment could have lasted seconds or an age, i didn’t know which, but neither of us wanted to break the moment talking. So i held him to me and kissed the top of his head gently, a natural action. But the moment broke, and i had to speak. “C’mon, put some clothes on and we’ll talk.” And we broke apart whilst Noel swooped to pull on some clothes and I tried to formulate some sensible questions in my head. In the end i settled for the cliché of “But why?” while Noel fought with his fly. He paused, still shirtless to think about the matter and again I wondered if i was doing the right thing, the smile had gone and he seemed so impossibly sad it hurt. “I don’t know.” He said honestly, “I just…. Do.” And I nodded, because if there was one thing i understood it was not knowing why you did something. He pulled his tee-shirt on, only wincing slightly as the material brushed his skin then settled. He was about to reach for the cardigan, but i was there before him. Catching it uncharacteristically gracefully between the tips of my fingers I half proffered it to him. He approached, letting me help him into it, sliding each arm in carefully so as not to snag. “Thanks.” He whispered softly, and it wasn’t helping him with the jacket that he was thanking me for.

We returned ourselves to the sofa, still in thought and he curled himself into me, not really stopping to think about why he was doing it. Absent minded i reached out to stroke his hair, and like a cat he dissolved into me. I half wondered where my cats were. Noel had named the Vince and Howard, because one was an effeminate looking long haired black creature, and the other a scruffy brown ball of fur. But for now I had my Noel cat, so we sat, with me stroking his hair absently, like one would to calm a frightened child. “Why do you wear that thing anyway?” I asked suddenly, and it was like things were back on track, we were sitting, drinking tea and talking clothes. I felt the movement of shoulder blades into my wrists as he shrugged. “It’s comforting i guess.” Now that was interesting, he had definitely said comforting, not comfortable. I stored this little snipped of information away, to examine at a later date. “Shall we go out tonight?” I asked suddenly, because i felt like i needed to be away from everything that hurt so much. More bones moved: a nod. “I could ring the others.” I offered, and at last Noel shifted himself from his position. “Yeah, I’ll help.”

Before long we had Noels phone on speaker and had arranged to meet Mike, Rich, Dave and Dee at 8. That gave them two hours to tidy themselves up and get sorted. Noel exchanged the cardi for one of his spray on leather jackets that he had long since left here, before heading for the nearest mirror, he leaves an assortment of products here as well. Just in case. I dragged myself of to change my aging Marillion tee-shirt for one of my “going out” shirts. I was still stood there, stripped to the waist deliberating when Noel finally reappeared. Reaching past me he selected a white one with delicate black pinstripes running down it. I couldn’t help but shudder slightly, the feel of leather on bare skin catching me off guard, but then the moment was over and Noel was sitting on the edge of my bed grinning, looking every inch the Goth fairy while i fought the battle with my buttons. Quite suddenly he leapt up from the edge of the bed, hugging me so tightly it hurt, i couldn’t imagine how he felt. And in a reflex i just closed my arms about his thin frame, breathing in the smell that was most defiantly Noel.

It’s called a décolletage in French, and it means the particular cocktail of things from your shampoo to your sweat that make up the smell of you. Noel smells clean and fragrant. Deodorant, clean washing, a gingery limey smell, and the familiar tang of hairspray combining with something that is far more perfume than after shave. I suppose it goes with his man lady persona. I don’t mind. Not one bit. Again we seem to be there an age, not moving. Then suddenly Noel broke it, he stood on top toes, kissed me briefly on the cheek and muttered, “Thanks Julian” then tottered off to find his boots. I stood there a little longer, one hand snaking its way up to brush my cheek, before running a hand through my hair and then hunting about the room for something to wear on my feet. In the end it took us fully half an hour to be ready to go out.

And so we were staggering along the road towards the Rainbow, a messy pub cum club not too far from our respective flats. Noel was hanging off my arm giggling girlishly, for once on a level with me in his silver platform boots, and he had rustled up a matching cowboy hat again, we were sharing an umbrella but i felt dowdy next to him, with my black jacket and plain jeans. But it didn’t matter. Before long we were in the crowded and noisy room, all hunched around a table, talking and laughing as though nothing had ever happened. The prelude to a good night out. The room seemed warm and comforting, and the talk washed over me as i considered everyone’s drinks. It always amused me what people drank; i think it tells you an awful lot about a person.

Of course it was a cocktail for Noel; the flirtini’s his alter ego Vince favoured so much, a sort of pinkish yellow with an umbrella and some form of drinkable glitter. Dee was drinking something pinkish and poisonous looking, but i could smell the alcohol from where i was sat, clearly a double vodka and something. Red wine for Dave, something vintage no doubt. Mike never has a particular drink, I’m sure he’d happily drink turps as beer. But he does like cider, I’ve never seen the appeal myself, reminds me of being drunk under bushes in parks. As for Rich it’s a cheap beer and that’ll do him. Personally i like Guinness, it’s a proper drink.

The evening seemed to pass suddenly, the haze of voices, chatter and drink. It felt like the room was warm and fuzzy, everything was fuzzy and getting hazier. Suddenly i was lost, and then the room was gone. I came too propped up against a wall outside with Noel’s face inches from my own.

[nextpage title=”Chapter Three”]

Chapter Three

Author’s Notes: Just a shortie, i could have continued, but it suited the narrative better this way. I still own no more than the words on the page

He was pressed so close i could have sworn i could feel his heart beating; i practically had to cross my eyes to see him. He was so close it was scary, the brick of the wall pressed into my spine and Noel’s hands pressed into my arms. “Where are the others?” I asked, confused. I had lost my bearings, with no idea where i was. “Inside, you passed out mate.” Noel said. He hadn’t moved yet. “You scared me.” I tried to focus on him; he was practically touching me, nose to nose. This surprises me, the idea that someone else can worry about me. So I don’t know what to say other than “Sorry.” And then he’s grinning that smile at me, “No problems.” And he still hasn’t moved, I wonder if that’s it, we’re just going to spend the rest of the evening against a brick wall down a back alley, talking like its normal to be nose to nose. Again the smile, and suddenly he leans forward, kisses me softly. It caught me completely by surprise, so that i shut my eyes, leaning into it like he’s a woman. Then he’s gone, grabbing my wrist in a whirlwind and dragging me back into the club. Speaking too quickly and depositing me into a seat with another drink, more colourful than my usual, and he’s disappearing into the crowds.

Dee, Mike Dan and Rich absorb me, so that i have no time to wonder where he is, where he’s gone. There’s noise and talk, the room is fuzzy and warm and nice. I like the way things are. I try to puzzle over kissing Noel, but the drink is going to my head. Somehow nothing mattered. Excusing myself I headed for the men’s room. The drink finally communicating its self through. I ended up stood before the mirror, staring at my fuzzy and cracked reflection. I couldn’t decide where i was, at least mentally. Then i recognised a suitable effeminate looking shape in the mirror behind me. Grinning like a jackal. I turned to him and he caught my chin, pulling me close towards him for another kiss, and i melted into him. It was ok to do things when drunk after all. He pushed himself onto me, kissing more roughly this time; he tasted strange, like stale vodka and something unplaceable. I half wondered why he was doing this, it was like there was no-one else in the world and no time left to look.

But it passed out of my mind when he grabbed me too him whispering, “Let’s go back to my place.” I think he intended to make our excuses and leave, but somewhere along the line everyone was there, all of us piling into a taxi, sharing the fare so we all arrived at Noel’s. Every time I go through that door it makes me smile, it’s such a mad place. Pictures and paintings, not to mention the splashes of paint and sequins directly on the walls. It’s the most fabulous place imaginable. So we all tumbled through the door and Noel hunted out a bottle of Absinthe, for special occasions only. An assortment of glasses and mugs were passed around, all filled with the poisonous green liquid. It was a night that was only ever destined to end in very few clothes being worn and other things besides.

Mike was curled up, closely involved with Dee in a corner, but Noel didn’t seem fazed, more interested in his assault on my spine. I had long since decided to clock Dave and Rich from my line of sight, it wasn’t worth it. I felt the hand on my spine snaking around as Noel kissed me rougher than before. It didn’t matter somehow in my mind. It’s just the sort of thing best friends do, mess around with each other. Isn’t it? He snaked his hand into my waistband and suddenly nothing mattered anymore. I gasped softly, and the world dissolved into a Technicolor bubble.

[nextpage title=”Chapter Four”]

Chapter Four

Author’s Notes: nearly the end. i dont own

Waking up was an utterly surreal and painful experience. The Hangover that makes its self known the second you crack your eyes open, the slightest bit of light leaping in through your retina and scorching a path to your brain. I turned slightly, aware i wasn’t at home, and remembering just enough to wonder who’s bed i was in, and indeed who with? Opening my eyes just a little further i took a quick glance of the room. That would be Noels bed with, everyone. I closed my eyes again, it was okay to sleep for a bit longer.

It felt like no time at all, but in reality it was probably several hours later, when a muffled crash woke me from sleep. I was on the point of cursing whoever it was: one for waking me, and two for making so much noise. But then i head Mike half scream in a panicky manner and i sprang out of bed. Stumbling around the splayed forms of our friends i ran as fast as i could for the hallway, glad to at least have underpants on. It struck me as i burst in on the scene how weirdly Nabooesque Mike looked, dressed only in his jeans with dishevelled hair. Noel was face down in the carpet and his breathing was shallow. “Shit” was the only coherent thought i could manage. But then something in me snapped, I handed the phone to Mike saying, “Phone an ambulance,” whilst i threw myself bodily back into the bedroom, hooking up my jeans from the previous night, dragging them on while i fell into my shoes. Reappearing Mike waved a hand at the door, “Go flag it down.” And i nodded, stumbling out the door and down the stairs.

Waiting on the cold roadside i had the horrible feeling, that whatever it was he’d done he had done it to himself. So I stood there, and when the blue lights came into sight i waved my arms like a man bringing a plane in to land, sending the ambulance workers on their way i waited. I didn’t think i could stand to be up there. But it seemed no time at all until Mike was at my side, grabbing my arm and pulling me into the back of the ambulance. We were off on our way to hospital. It felt so surreal it was unbelievable. One minute i was laying in bed, blissfully happy, the next i was sat in a dingy hospital corridor with my best friend’s brother. And we both had the news; he had overdosed and then slit his own wrists. It was a blow to both of us. And so I had to tell Mike, he needed to know it hadn’t come from nowhere. We both sat there, shaken. And then a nurse appeared, he was awake, we could see him.

Almost silently we shuffled into the room; he was awake, looking very pale against the white sheets, dark hair on pale skin on white sheets. Mike reached out, squeezing his shoulder before he searched about for the plastic chairs, dropping into one and proffering the other to me. I sank into it, holding onto Noel’s hand all the while. His wrists were wrapped in bandages and there were tubes sticking out of him from strange places. It was a truly scary sight. I didn’t know what to say. “Why?” was all that came out, the strangled thought that was on everyone’s mind. He shuddered and sighed. “I, I guess i wanted to go out on a high…” I tried not to stare at his arms, at his chest, hidden by the white robe. “They want to keep me in…” he continued. “Just for a while, til they sort me out.” And we nodded, sad, scared. Frightened for our friend. Then the nurse called us away, we were to ring if we wanted to visit from now on, he would be in the unit indefinitely. That was a scary thought. But for now we had to tell our friends. All of them, that was going to be difficult.

We were barely out the door before Mike just broke down in tears. I didn’t know what to do, so I held the little man against my chest and let him cry for a while. He needed to do it, needed to let go, and let it all out. I thought i needed to cry as well, but I wasn’t ready yet, that would come later. After i had rung people and explained to them what was wrong. For now i felt like i was in a silent movie, watching myself act a part. I hailed the nearest taxi and pushed Mike in, gasping out the address of Noel’s flat. The return journey seemed inconceivably slow, but it gave me time to think. I had my corner and Mike had his, neither of us spoke.

Back in the flat the atmosphere was subdued; Dee made everyone tea, and then gave me a surprisingly warm and motherly hug for an edgy electro girl dressed in one of Noel’s tee-shirts and her own underwear. I blocked it out and decided to enjoy the feeling of being mothered. So new and wonderfully platonic. It was a wonderful change from the events that had lead up to it so far. Then I started crying. It just happened. And i couldn’t stop. Dee held me too her whilst Mike Dave and Rich found reasons to excuse themselves from the scene. The embarrassment of men crying. I was long passed caring as i sobbed brokenly into my best mate’s girlfriend’s chest. It was another surreal moment to add to my fast building list. But once I was finished Dee offered to walk me home and i agreed, it seemed easier than thinking or speaking. She pulled her dress on, but kept Noel’s tee-shirt, a comfort thing maybe. So we reappeared into the morning, looking all the world like two hung over teenagers.

I let myself in and Dee followed, we made tea and cried, then i went to have a shower, whilst Dee crawled out of her clothes and into my bed. I left the shower and fell onto my sofa; it was going to be a long month. I couldn’t bear to entertain the idea that it could be more. So i sat and listened to her ragged breathing, and cried again. I had a feeling that this was going to become a recurring theme, so i grabbed the phone, rand Sue and invited her ‘round. It was about 10 minutes later when there was a soft tap at the door and Sue was there, i directed her towards my room and she headed straight there. Reappearing with Dee in her arms she promised to ring and see how things were. She even gave me a quick kiss on the cheek. But i still felt numb. I returned to the sofa and sat there. Then I rang the hospital. The nurse told me i could visit tomorrow at four and til then i should rest up and eat something. Alone in the room i privately wondered if i was going to be able to cope until tomorrow let alone the end of the month. For the fourth time in as many hours i cried again.

[nextpage title=”Chapter Five”]

Chapter Five

Author’s Notes: two months later a woefully short ending chapter, but i wasnt sure where i wanted to go. Thus ends my first. I dont own

Against all the odd’s we had made it. Two months had passed us by without nearly enough visits to our favourite scraggly haired little man. And now he was allowed out at last the welcoming committee was all there. Well, they were all around at my flat whilst Mike and I had travelled to the hospital to wait. Stood at reception i fidgeted nervously with my buttons, whilst Mike tried to stare a hole in the floor. But then we heard the familiar click of platform boots and a voice called. “Heyyy, look who it is!” We both span unashamedly, because it was Noel and nothing really mattered. Almost in disbelief i watched him approach, and when he was near enough he wasted no time in pulling Mike into a tight, bone crushing hug. Mike was crying slightly but happy. His brother was back. Then Noel turned to me, he seemed so out of place, dressed only in jeans and a tee-shirt, my brain half wanted him to have a jacket on, but then he pulled me close to him and kissed me hard. And any worries I had just melted away.

Back at the house it was almost as though we had continued where we left off on that fateful evening two months earlier. The only difference was that this one was fuelled by fruit juice lemonade and fizzy pop, Noel having not yet cleared his system of the medication he wasn’t allowed to drink on. But the party was buzzing anyway. And we had our friend back. That was more important than anything else. He was so happy i think just to be outside, with all his friends. Not regimented. More than anything i think he missed music and freedom. Apparently there’s nothing like being followed 24/7 for two weeks to make you realise how nice it is to shower without swimming trunks. I can only begin to imagine. But all the same the day passed in a wonderful haze. And it seemed all too soon that people had to make their apologies and leave. Soon we were left alone, standing in the sudden silence.

Noel stepped up to me, short now he was stood in his socks, he had shed the boots earlier, relishing the feeling of carpet underfoot. Almost cautiously he stepped up to me. “Sorry if i scared you Julian…” he said slowly. I wasn’t sure what to say to that, eventually i decided that it would be easier to tell the truth. “Scared me?” I rubbed a hand over my eyes, “You had me questioning what you wanted me for, and then.” I paused again, “When you kissed me in the hospital earlier, I wasn’t any more certain. I… Well I don’t know.” And he looked at me, i wasn’t aware before that someone was able to look broken and yet optimistic in one moment. But Noel was certainatly managing it. “You daft northern bastard.” He giggled, stepping up to loop his arms around my neck. “I was scared Julian, and then I thought, after that night that if i never saw another morning I’d be happy. I guess that’s why I did it. I wanted the world to stop there, because i was sure you’d never want me again.” It was my turn to laugh, perhaps this all could have been avoided if we’d all been more honest with each other, but i doubted it. It was over now. “Carefully i slid my hand inside his shirt, feeling the ridges and valleys of scars. I wanted to spend time mapping every single one. But the journey of a thousand miles starts with a single step. I pulled Noel into a rough and passionate kiss.

TheCatInTheTree

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Falling Apart

Falling Apart by TheCatInTheTree

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

TheCatInTheTree

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Falling Apart by TheCatInTheTree

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

TheCatInTheTree

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