Chapter Text
"can i get one of those?" alan asked, a little desperation in his voice.
"fuck sake wake, buy your own cigarettes," the harsh british voice replied.
"c'mon, please sam?" he almost begged.
sam groaned comically loudly and rolled her eyes. she took the pack of cigarettes out of her pocket and flicked the lid open, offering up one and he took it gladly. he gave her a little look and she shook her head, of course he needed a light as well and so she offered her lighter as well. he lit the cigarette, taking a long drag and handing her the lighter back as he exhaled. he knew she kind of hated him, but at an event like this, she was sometimes the only bearable person here. she was an up and coming writer who had just had a big break with an interesting little horror novel. samantha conrad was definitely a name to remember.
"why do you never come to these things with smokes?" she stared at him.
"because i don't smoke except at these things."
"so you know you can bum them off me?" she snorted before taking a drag of her own.
"well, despite how mean you are, you never deny me," he flashed her a cheeky smile.
"don't push it, wake..."
he looked at her and wasn't sure if he was going to end up with a fat lip or not.
"so what's your excuse for always smelling of smoke when you get home?"
"what?"
"you only smoke when you go to events without your wife, so i'm guessing she doesn't know you smoke, yet you smell of the stuff when you get home, so what's your excuse?" she looked at him smugly.
"she knows what writers are like."
"liars?" she smirked.
"i don't need relationship advice from you, thanks," he was more blunt than he expected.
"ouch," she covered up the hurt with humour.
"maybe you should consider not acting superior when your relationship situation isn't that great," he'd definitely had too much to drink.
"absolutely go fuck yourself," she spat, throwing her half smoked cigarette to the ground and going back inside.
he instantly regretted even bothering to open his mouth. sam was just joking with him and he had to go and open a very recent and raw wound. for someone who always carefully constructed sentences, he sure didn't do that when talking out loud. he didn't mean to keep hurting those around him, but it was his only skill. would he apologise for this? probably not. there was some weird feeling inside him that told him he deserved to be hated, that people shouldn't see the good in him. sam deserved to have a better friend than him which meant that he should push her away.
the silence was becoming uncomfortable, but he couldn't go back until he had finished smoking. he took a deep drag, his mind drifting to the conversation he could have had with her. maybe he could've asked her about her trip to seattle and if the rain had made her feel homesick. or if she was considering that movie deal he'd heard about. or maybe even been a decent person and asked how her break up was treating her. most people had taken her ex's side, and knowing that someone kind of had her back, even if it was just him, would have made her feel less alone. no, he obviously had to ruin another friendship.
----
another stuffy party, another night he wished he hadn't picked this life. this wasn't the place he wanted to be, but barry insisted because there were more industry people to schmooze. talks of movie deals and collaborations, but he didn't really care. he could already feel the whiskey tingling on his lips and he knew he should stop and yet he didn't. sipping the next glass, he looked around to see if he could see someone, anyone he could talk to instead of the people he didn't want to be around. a knot formed in his stomach and it wasn't from the alcohol; sam stood out on the balcony, smoking as usual to keep away from everyone. she really was the smartest person at these things.
could he swallow his pride and finally apologise for what he'd said? he had seen her around, but just avoided her, trying his hardest to not get in her way so she wouldn't feel cornered. he wanted to say something, anything so she knew that deep down he was a good person, he was trying so hard. she didn't need to have him in her life, she was better off without him, but fuck he wanted to speak to her. he smoothed down his hair, just to look a little bit presentable and breathed in deeply. even if she didn't want him in her life, he wanted to apologise, that was the least he could do.
"oh fuck off," she spat as soon as she saw him.
"sam, wait, i'm sorry, i didn't... i fucked up, i know, i say things before i realise how stupid they are."
"you crossed a line."
"i know."
"do you really believe what you said?" her voice wavered slightly.
"no," he said bluntly. "sometimes i say the worst thing to push people away..." he trailed off, looking at the skyline.
"self sabotage? you're a walking cliché, you know that, wake?"
"says the woman smoking a cigarette while wistfully looking at the new york skyline," he offered a cheeky smile.
"you just can't help yourself, can you?" she looked at him with a scowl which quickly turned to a grin when she saw how bad he felt. "oh, i'm gonna be able to fuck with you for years now, aren't i?"
he finally chuckled. "yeah, looks like you are." he wondered if now was a bad time to ask for a cigarette.
"but next time, take a second to think before you side with my ex if you actually want to be friends."
"what even happened between you two?"
"that is a question that can only be answered with more alcohol, and less ears."
"you reckon i could sneak a bottle downstairs?"
"are you suggesting drinking on the street, wake?"
"well, i'm not not suggesting that," he smirked.
"if you can get it down there, i'll see you there," she smirked right back.
he watched as she stubbed her cigarette out in the ashtray and then went back into the fold. most of the people at the party seemed to be avoiding her, purposefully turning their backs or moving out of her way so they didn't have to talk to her. his brow furrowed, wondering why they were acting like this; she had become a pariah with the people who were supposed to be her peers and he didn't know why. had it been like this for a while and he just didn't notice it or had she destroyed her career at one party? it didn't matter, he was now a man on a mission to get a bottle that he could hide.
it took a while, people wanting to talk to him and constantly stopping him from getting to the bar and even when he was there, they kept talking to him, drawing more attention to him. maybe this was why he drank so much because he was just never comfortable with this much attention. then again, he could use it to his advantage if he just tried hard enough. the bartender was distracted at the other end of the bar and the person currently talking to him was easy to distract, all he had to do was point out that someone more famous than him was at the party and he leant over and grabbed whatever was closest.
sam was posted up in a corner, nursing a drink while no one spoke to her and she looked around nervously. was she nervous about their bad behaviour or that she was not wanted here? she had never given off the impression that she ever worried about misbehaving, but being socially outcast seemed like something that would upset her. he tried to catch her eye, flashing her the bottle once he was sure no one else was watching. she nodded her head and slipped out, basically unseen. it took him a little longer to leave, trying to shake the unwanted attention.
"finally," she joked as she looked up at him from the curb.
"apparently, i'm a very popular guy," he faked the confidence swagger as he sat next to her.
"can't imagine why," she flicked open the cigarette packet, offering him one.
"maybe it's just my charm," the bravado cracked, the confidence not really there as he took the cigarette.
"aw c'mon," she placed a cigarette between her lips, "you're not that bad," she lit up and offered him the lighter.
"coming from you," he lit his own, handing back the lighter, "that means a lot."
they both grinned at each other for a moment, before he finally slipped the bottle out of his inside pocket. they engaged in idle chit chat, mainly talking about the annoying people that were at the party and how much they hated these things. why did they keep doing it to themselves? maybe they were simply filled with so much self-loathing that they had to do this. as they talked, they took swigs from the bottle, both being a little cautious since this was illegal, but not being hyper-vigilante. she paused for a moment, looking at the label and looking up at him.
"did you just grab this randomly or did you pick it?" she asked him curiously.
"just grabbed the first bottle i could."
"are you just an extremely lucky man, wake?" she narrowed her eyes at him.
"why?"
"for a borderline alcoholic, you don't know your alcohol, do you?"
"no, i don't read labels, i just drink them."
"red wolf, rye whiskey, my favourite drink."
"well, i guess i am just lucky, huh?" he was amused with himself.
"why does that not surprise me?" her voice sadder than he was expecting for a statement like that.
"sam? you okay?"
"i just wish i had your luck," she smiled sadly.
"you were published at twenty five, i'd say that's pretty lucky," he tried to comfort her.
"except it's over before it even began, you saw in there, no one wants to even speak to me anymore."
"is it because of jonathan?"
"what do you think?" she snorted. "we broke up a few months after the fame, people think i broke up with him because i used him to get what i wanted..."
"why did you guys break up?"
"remember that party at the beaumont?"
"the beginning of it, sure," he chuckled. "wasn't that the one you turned up to with a black eye?"
she looked at him pointedly.
"he did that to you?"
she nodded, avoiding eye contact with him.
"i'll fucking kick his ass," he snapped.
she almost laughed. "don't throw away both of our careers."
"he hit you, he deserves at least one in return."
"implies it only happened once," her voice shrank.
"the fat lip wasn't from an underground punk show?"
"of course not..."
"sam..." his voice becoming soft as he tried to figure out how to comfort her.
"don't... it's done, it doesn't matter anymore."
"he hurt you, he deserves to pay for that."
"he deserves to pay for that," she said in a mocking tough guy voice, "who are you, alex casey now?" she joked, trying to change the subject.
"sam," he said exasperated. "he hit you, repeatedly, and you wanna joke about it?"
"no, i'm joking about you because it sure as shit beats thinking about him."
"aren't you forced to think about him every time you see everyone treating you like an outsider?"
"yeah," she said quietly, "why do you think i spend so much time outside?"
"do they even know? surely if they knew he'd be the one treated like that."
"some know, they still took his side, it's my fault for pushing him to," she shrugged.
"but they're not everyone one, others would take your side and stop acting this way," he encouraged her.
"except they probably wouldn't believe me either. we started dating before i got famous, then i dumped him after i got famous, they would keep thinking the same thing, except now i'm also a fucking liar."
"has anyone said that?"
"what do you think?"
he looked down at the sidewalk sadly.
"now you know why i was so pissed off with you. you still talked to me and you saying that made me think you were taking his side."
"what i said wasn't me taking sides, it was me being an asshole," he looked at her with an awkward smile.
"maybe don't be an arsehole to people you like, huh?" she looked at him sternly.
"noted," he grinned. "maybe i just need you to set me straight."
"that's not my job, wake, you need to stop running your mouth before it gets you in even more trouble."
"also noted."
"you're a good guy underneath all of this, just... be better, i know you can."
he looked up at her like a kid who was being scolded by their parents. he couldn't help himself sometimes and he knew he needed to work on his impulses, trying his hardest not to speak without thinking, but that darkness in him. he hated it. it always wanted him to destroy the things he loved, to push away everyone and he was a little shocked that he was still married. alice stayed with him despite everything and he sometimes didn't understand why. he looked down the street, being acutely aware that this street was eerily quiet. he then heard a deep sigh from sam and looked up at her slowly.
"we're out..." she said sadly.
"you know what that means?"
"bed time?"
"i was going to say, time to find a bar."
she snorted. "no way, bed."
"you're younger than me! aren't you supposed to want to party all night long?"
"me personally, no, i want my bed," she almost whined.
"wimp," he grinned.
"well, this wimp is going home to sleep in her comfy bed."
"walk you home?"
"it's not that far, i'll be alright."
"it's new york, it's late, you know how many weirdos will be out."
she considered for a minute. "alright, fine," she relented.
he got up and offered a hand to which she rolled her eyes and then took it. he helped her up and he couldn't help himself, drawing her into a hug. a flash of light hit both of them, dazing them for a moment before alan saw absolute rage. he looked around and finally spotted the photographer trying to hide amongst the little foliage there was on the other side of the street. he stormed over there without thinking and snatched the man's camera from his hands, throwing it to the floor with a satisfying crunch. but it wasn't enough, he clenched his fist and threw a punch, the paparazzi staggering backwards and losing his footing. sam finally caught up to alan and pulled him away with a little sigh.
the two of them walked to her apartment in silence, mainly because he wasn't really walking with her, but following behind as she seemed to be trying to avoid being near him. the guilt was already gnawing at the pit of his stomach, but he didn't know how else to handle that situation. those photos weren't good. despite that there were innocent intentions between them, tabloids would always show it as a sordid affair. it wasn't just himself he was thinking about for once, knowing he could definitely smooth over a hug with a woman with alice, but she would have to break everyone's currently feelings for her. she'd just dumped her famous boyfriend now she had her own career and was moving on to a man who was more affiliated with her interests.
she stopped walking and he assumed that she was at her apartment building. he stopped behind her and watched as she hesitated, holding her keys in her hand but then turning to face him. she sighed, rubbing her forehead, almost as if she hadn't realised he had been following her home.
"don't do that again," she said, uncharacteristically quiet.
"i know... i just... i don't want people to think you're trying to date me."
"oh, thanks..." she shook her head.
"no, not like that. wait," words escaped him. "you're already dealing with people thinking you only dated jonathan for contacts, if people thought you were trying to court a married man for the same reason..."
she paused, digesting what he'd said and softened. "okay, but don't go around punching people," she sighed.
"you're right, i really have to work on that."
"yeah, you really fucking do," she sounded almost scared of him.
a lightbulb moment. "sam, you know i would never hit you?"
"do i?" she looked up at him.
"well yeah, i like you," he tried to reassure her.
"until you don't..."
"fuck," he was so angry at himself. "i'm sorry..."
"just... go sober up, okay?"
"yeah... lots of coffee, and my bed."
"night, wake," she smiled awkwardly.
"night, sam."
----
alan really thought he'd fucked it all up again, that he had once again pushed away someone who actually liked him, but he was pleasantly surprised when she called. he had agreed to meet her at her apartment, guessing she felt a bit safer and that perhaps it was best they weren't in public. alice was already out, so he made sure to clean up after himself before he left. once at her apartment, he buzzed her door and waited, going in once she invited him. the lift up was a little nerve inducing because he wasn't sure what he was walking into, but she seemed in a pretty good mood as she let him in the apartment.
she offered him a seat on the sofa and asked if he wanted a cup of tea. he didn't really, but also knew she wasn't a big coffee person and so accepted the offer. after a few moments, she appeared from the small kitchen with a cup of tea for both of them and settled in the big chair opposite him after putting them on the coffee table. she pulled her legs up under her and took a moment. she seemed to be gathering her thoughts.
"so, how's things?" she asked, skirting around her feelings.
"good, no more drunken fights, don't seem to have pissed off too many people. what about you?"
"i stopped going to social events and i couldn't be happier," she grinned.
he absolutely agreed. "yeah, i noticed, can't lie, i do miss my smoking buddy."
"well, you're more than welcome to just hang out with me, you know, without using a party you don't want to be at as cover."
"you make a very good point, it's just..." he trailed off.
"what? spit it out."
he didn't know how to word this. "you know, the whole rumours thing... i just... i don't know how alice would take it."
"at least it's only alice you'd have to worry about," she blurted out.
"what do you mean?"
"you realise that if rumours about you came out, you might have to try and make alice believe the truth, but everything else would be fine. rumours about me come out, i'm a whore, a homewrecker, sales would plummet, and i probably wouldn't publish another book..."
"you can't really believe that?"
"what name do you have on the cover of your books?"
he furrowed his brows. "...alan wake."
"what name do i have on the cover of my books?"
"sam conrad..."
"sam. exactly. gender neutral name, a name that could belong to a man. i was advised against using samantha because people wouldn't buy horror written by a woman."
he looked at her, completely speechless.
"why do you think i stayed with jonathan? it wasn't because i secretly loved him, i was terrified of how people would treat me. and i was right..."
"not entirely, i know it doesn't count for a lot, but i'm on your side."
"which is why i finally called you. you're my only friend, and technically, you did punch a man to help me out," she finally smiled.
"you see me as a friend?"
"of course i do, wake, how many cigarettes have i given you for free?"
"technically, i pay with my dazzling personality," he smirked.
she rolled her eyes. "sure, whatever helps you sleep at night."
"but what's really up? something seems to be bothering you."
"i uh- i'm thinking of leaving new york."
"i don't blame you."
"it's just i don't need to be here, i can write from anywhere and if barry drops me, i can move on to someone else if i nee- wait, you agree?"
"yeah, why wouldn't i?"
"i dunno, i thought you would try and stop me..."
"but why? yes, i could have been selfish and thrown a tantrum about how i would miss my friend and guilt you into staying, but you hate it here. i would rather you be happy somewhere else. i can visit, see you on book tours, you could visit, we would still see each other."
"when did you become rational?"
"i thought a lot about that night... it's a pattern of behaviour that i definitely need to break," he said, finally leaning forward to pick up the tea. "also, i've been drinking less."
"wake, finally growing up are we?"
"maybe," he smiled before taking a sip. he seemed confused by the taste, his nose wrinkling. "what is this?"
"earl grey tea, maybe you're more of a black tea person."
"honestly, not much of a tea person at all."
"right, dark roast coffee guy," she teased.
he couldn't lie to himself, he would miss her if she left, but maybe letting her go to wherever she wanted was the best plan for both of them. she would flourish wherever she went and he was always going to support her career, even if he was having to do it from across the world. the two of them carried on talking through the day and he had the best time he had in a very long time. maybe it was being sober, maybe it was the company, it was probably both really. the two of them seemed to finally be actually comfortable with each other without having to hide behind superficial reasons to hang out.
before they knew it, the sun had disappeared from the sky and they were still talking. they were both kind of astonished they had spent so long just talking, but a big part that had surprised her was alan's admiration for her writing. she had never imagined that alan wake of all people would have read her book and had such high praise, talking about how much he loved the imagery she included in her work, especially the way she used rabbits, deer, and wolves to create such deep metaphor within her writing. he understood the horror genre and sam was a shining example.
she wanted him to stay, she wanted to keep the person who was so much in her corner, but she also knew she couldn't. he had a life that he had to get back to despite how selfish she wanted to be. she remained as understanding as she could be, telling him that he should go home, and basically shooing him out of her apartment. he gave in despite kind of wanting to stay. it was the first time in ages he had felt almost normal instead of a man constantly on the edge. but before he went, he made sure to give her a tight hug and she gave in, smiling to herself as she felt his chin on top of her head.
----
months spent talking to sam regarding so much of his life was odd for him. some of the stuff he had talked to her about was stuff he hadn't even spoken to alice about, or barry, and yet there was just a comfort speaking to her. of course, one of the main topics of conversation had been that he couldn't write, writer's block had hit him like a truck and he couldn't seem to get through it. alice had suggested a break, a way to get through it, a holiday in a cabin in the woods so he could recharge and rethink. sam had encouraged it, that getting out of the tar pit he called new york city could be good for him. today was his last day before he left and he couldn't pass up the chance to say goodbye.
sam trusted alan enough at this point that he had keys for her building and apartment, but only to be used when they had arranged it and he had never broken that rule. as he went into her apartment, she was already in the kitchen, brewing a fresh pot of coffee for him and nursing her own mug of tea. she looked up and grinned at him and told him she'd be with him. he settled down on the sofa and played with the throw idly as she finally came over with his coffee.
"when you leaving?"
"tomorrow," he said a little more sullenly than he expected.
"why are you not more excited? you get to spend time in a cabin in the woods, you know what i would give for that?"
he chuckled. "why don't you go instead of me then?"
"a holiday with your wife, now that'd be weird," she chuckled.
"alright, that part of it would be weird."
"although, girls weekend, spending all of our time bitching about how annoying you are, maybe it'd be good for us," she smirked.
"okay, remind me to not leave you two alone together," he chuckled. "so, cabin in the woods where you wanna move to then?"
"maybe," she said a little lost in thought. "just somewhere quiet, you know, maybe an old hunting lodge with antlers on the walls, throws all over the place with oranges and blues, lamps with leather hide everywhere," she smiled softly.
"very pacific northwest of you," he grinned.
"well yeah, plus, i heard it's super rainy there, maybe i'd feel more at home."
"it rains here as well, you know?"
"i thought you weren't going to try and stop me from leaving."
he stopped, realising how it sounded. "no, i'm not, i'm just pointing out a fact. maybe it's not the rain you need, it's not feeling at home you need. it's the space to breathe away from a big city. maybe you need a new place to call home."
"when did you get so smart?" she asked with a chuckle.
"must be all the time i'm spending with you," he shot her a smirk.
she smirked back over her cup of tea. "at least i'm a good influence on someone." she paused, trying to choose her words carefully. "you gonna try and slay the dragon?" she asked a little nervously.
he turned to her, confusion dancing in his eyes before the realisation hit him. "no, this break isn't about the writer's block, it's about taking a break, spending time with alice."
"maybe you'll leave it there, you'll come back all bright eyed and bushy tailed, full of ideas," she grinned encouragingly.
he couldn't meet her eyes. "maybe," he didn't sound convinced.
"or you'll come back still with writer's block and i'll have no choice, i'll have to put you through the conrad bootcamp for writer's block."
he snorted. "as if you've had writer's block."
she rolled her eyes. "yeah, because struggling with creativity is only reserved for you... of course i had writer's block, the pressure to recreate the lightning in the bottle of my first book, watching my relationship fall apart, my life changing so rapidly, it was a heck of a lot to deal with."
"but the manuscript you gave me?"
"think of it as proof anyone can beat writer's block," she smiled softly.
"a trophy any writer would display proudly."
"you'll get there, i just know it," she smiled, taking his hand.
he couldn't help but smile at her, squeezing her hand ever so lightly. when he got home from cauldron lake, that's what he could do. the holiday was to push everything from his mind and just pretend everything was okay and then he could come home and face it properly. the holiday was to treasure alice and to remind them that their relationship was good when he wasn't stressed constantly. then he would come back to new york and he could work through this. he looked up at sam and she smiled back at him. she then quickly pulled away, announcing she needed another cup of tea and disappeared into her tiny kitchen to brew another pot.
of course the two of them carried on idle chat, simply enjoying being around each other for the last time in a few weeks if everything went to plan. she couldn't help but get animated as they started trash talking some of the people they had been at an event with a few nights ago. it seemed that people were getting to the point where they didn't really care about her dumping jonathan and if anything, people were growing sick and tired of him being such a whiny baby. while she was happy people didn't like him anymore, she was tired that it took them all this long to really see his true character when he had been showing it all the time.
alan didn't punch him at the party unprovoked, only punching jonathan after he shoved him aggressively. the more sam had opened up about her relationship with him, the more he realised that jonathan was the absolute lowest of the low. he wasn't just violent towards her, but also controlling and manipulative. he constantly made her feel like she was small and insignificant, that she deserved the violence that was coming to her. maybe he would take that anger and write him as a character that is brutally murdered and no one cares. the protangonist would quip at how there were just some people who deserved to die and leave it at that.
eventually he realised that it was probably time to get back to his apartment and finish his packing, but he would be lying to himself if he said he wanted to leave. maybe it was just because he loved spending time with her a bit too much now, or maybe it was because he really just didn't want to go on this trip. probably both. he let out a soft sigh and she noticed, looking at him and realising what the sigh was for.
"you gotta finish packing?" she asked, smirking ever so slightly.
he sighed even louder. "yeah..."
"like that's hard for you, two pairs of jeans, a hoodie, and jacket and you're done, right?"
"i need underwear as well," he joked.
"you're telling me you don't just turn them inside out when they get dirty?"
"please give me some credit, i'm not that gross," he laughed.
"sorry, i forgot you are a little less feral than some of the people we know."
"only a little?" he cocked an eyebrow.
"don't let it go to your head, wake," she tried not to smile.
"can't make any promises..." he loved that he could break her tough act. "but i do really need to get going..."
"yeah, you probably should," her smile weakened.
"but i'll see you when i get back, i promise, you'll be my first stop," he smile.
"i better be," she jokingly threatened him.
"i already promised, didn't i?"
he got up to let himself out and before he could move, he was taken into a hug against his will, not that he was going to fight it. he wrapped his arms her shoulders, and brought her closer to his chest, smiling as her arms tightened around his waist. her head fit under his chin once more as he resisted the urge to kiss her gently on top of her head. maybe it was too familiar, something that only lovers were supposed to do and he was her friend, he didn't want to cross a line but he also wanted her to know that he cared for her so deeply. they finally separated and she pushed him playfully, and so he went back to his apartment to get ready for his trip to cauldron lake.
----
her head swam with so many thoughts and she just didn't know what to do any more. everyone around her was just noise as everything blurred into itself. people asked questions and she just nodded, pulling her hoodie around her tighter as she tried harder and harder to pull herself back to reality. alan. it's all she could think about right now. the police officer offered to drive her wherever she needed to go and she gave him alan's address. they drove her to the apartment building and she waved them off, shakily going up to his floor and standing outside the door.
after finally being able to stop herself crying so violently, she knocked on the door, waiting for him to answer. she needed that idiot more than anything right now to just tell her everything was going to be okay. that she was going to be fine and once she left new york, things would be better. the door opened and it was alice. her heart sank. she suddenly remembered he was gone. he had been missing for a week now and she had forgotten her own best friend wasn't here.
"samantha? it's three in the morning, what's going on?"
"sorry, i'll go," she seemed absolutely frazzled.
alice rubbed her eye. "...don't, you've been crying, come in."
alice almost pulled her into the apartment, sitting her down. she assumed that this was some kind of trauma response to everything that was going on and so she just simply tried to show her some sympathy. sure, alan was her husband, but he obviously meant a lot to sam as well and she couldn't be angry with someone else who was also grieving.
"can i get you a drink?" alice asked softly.
"a tea would be nice," her voice sounded rough.
alice went to the kitchen and opened the cupboard, remembering that alan had bought some recently and brewed a cup for her. she brought it to living room and placed it in front of her. she sat down opposite her and watched her for a moment, worried about the poor girl now.
"samantha, what's going on?"
she sniffed loudly. "i just wanted to see alan, but... he's gone, so obviously i can't. i'll go, it's okay."
"it's not okay, you miss him, and that's okay. just, sit here for a while," she smiled sympathetically.
"i can't, i need to find somewhere to stay," she was frantic.
"somewhere to stay? what's going on?"
"it doesn't matter, i'll find a hotel."
"no, you won't. i know we don't know each other well, but if alan was here, he would be helping you, so let me help you."
"my ex..." she was barely audible, "he broke in... he attacked me and the neighbours called the police. they scared him off and suggested i went somewhere he wouldn't find me."
"sam... i'm sorry."
"don't apologise, you're not the one who attacked me," she smiled weakly.
alice couldn't help but smile, alan always said she had a wicked sense of humour. "well, then you're definitely staying."
she looked away for a moment. "i think he attacked because alan is gone."
"what do you mean?"
"the last few months, every event we went to that he was at, alan would stay by my side all night because he knew how jonathan got."
"how he got?"
"he's a very angry and hateful man..."
"wait, jonathan, that's the guy alan punched last month, right?"
sam finally smiled genuinely. "yeah, he did."
alice chuckled to herself.
"i miss him."
"so do i."
the two sat in silence for a while, both just kind of letting the sadness sit that they had really lost him. he was gone and they had to come to terms with that. sam finally leant in and took a sip of her tea, remarking that it was earl grey, her favourite. they both carried on talking, just sharing memories of alan. sam couldn't lie, she had been surprised she was so intensely close to him considering that they only really starting hanging out properly for the last six months. they almost knew each other's life stories and how everything had changed the ways that they wrote. alan complained about being stuck in a rut, that he couldn't get his creativity going and sam was trying to help as best she could.
it was weird having spent all this time with alan and not really knowing alice, but she guessed she also didn't really have a lot to talk to alice about. the only real thing they had in common was alan and sam didn't want her to think that she was in love with alan. she wasn't. she definitely wasn't. she just missed him. eventually, the tiredness caught up to sam and she just fell asleep where she sat. alice smiled softly, happy that she got to share alan with someone so caring and placed a blanket over her.
----
sam stood on the upper deck of her apartment building, nestling a cup of tea in her hands. she breathed in the fresh oregon air and finally settled down on the wooden chair. she put the cup on the table before her, pulling down the sleeves of her jumper over her knuckles and then getting a cigarette from the pack. after lighting the cigarette, she just looked to the sky, watching the clouds for a moment, unable to explain how much this stillness seemed to calm her bones.
her phone rang and she frowned, why did people always call her when she was trying to relax? she didn't really want to speak to anyone right now since she was in that decompression period. her most recent book had been released and the sales seemed to be pretty good, so now was the time to relax. pulling the phone out of her pocket, she saw that it was alice and her heart leaped into her chest. was it news about alan after all of this time? she didn't believe in god, but right now, she was almost praying to him that this was the reason.
"hey! alice, what's up?" she asked casually.
"hey sam..." she sounded distant.
"what can i do for ya?"
"is it okay to talk?"
"of course, what's going on, you sound so serious..." if it was alan, she would have said straight away.
"the new book."
sam's heart sank. "you read it? any good?" she tried to joke.
"did you mean it when you told me you and alan were just friends?"
"yes, alice, we were just friends. what's brought this on?" she felt very defensive.
"did you ever read your own book?" she said flatly.
"i did," she replied, starting to sound a little pissed off.
"then you realise how the book reads, right? a woman in love with a man who leaves, all the questions of what if, haunted by his face, and you don't see how it looks?"
"if people want to read a story book and think it's autobiographical, then i can't help them."
"except writers draw from their own lives," she was being extremely condescending now.
"yes, and losing a friend was the inspiration, but it doesn't mean me and alan were fucking," she almost barked.
"you're acting like i'm not the only one coming to this conclusion, you have read the reviews, right?"
"yeah, and those people don't know me, or alan, you do, and you hit me with this?"
"i started putting things together that night you came to stay. the minute you said that tea was your favourite, it started gnawing in my brain."
"what are you talking about?" sam stubbed the barely smoked cigarette out.
"he bought that tea for you. in an interview, you mentioned your favourite whiskey and he had a bottle of it sitting in our wardrobe. he bought cookies, except he got all pedantic and corrected me to tell me they were biscuits because they were british."
"i don't know what to tell you..."
"when you're married, you compromise on everything, the brand of coffee was his, the toothpaste was mine, the choice in cups was his. he bought things for you, tailored to your wants."
"we were friends, i had a bag of dark roast in my apartment despite not being a big coffee drinker."
"did you love him?"
she suddenly couldn't speak. "i don't know if i can answer that."
"you either did or you didn't."
"and i don't know," she tried to pick her next words carefully, "alan isn't here, all that remains is memories of him and they're all memories of having fun, or him being a good person, i love the man that i have in my memories, but i couldn't tell you if i loved him. it's been over a year, i'm a different person."
alice couldn't seem to speak for a moment. "i'm sorry," she said softly.
"i think i can give you a pass, it's gonna be pretty raw reading a book and re-opening the wounds of losing him," she sounded a lot less defensive and more sympathetic.
"how did you write the book without being so torn up?"
"honestly? i didn't. i spent a lot of time crying, and a lot of time staring at the floor wishing my brain wasn't like this."
"and you still did it? why didn't you just write something else?"
"i couldn't, i needed this out."
"do you still sometimes expect him to just appear?"
"all the fucking time," she chuckled sadly.
"how's oregon?"
"it's nice. it's like all the weight of new york is just gone, you know?"
"uh... i think i should go," alice could feel more painful memories and she just didn't want them.
"of course, do what you gotta do. maybe see you when i'm in new york?"
"yeah... i'd like that," she smiled softly.
"see you around, alice," her voice difficult to read.
"yeah... bye sam."
the line went dead and sam could already feel her eyes filling with tears. her chest was feeling tighter and tighter and it was becoming nearly hard to breathe. she thought it was done with the book, sure, people asked surface level questions about alan, but barry was a good agent and made sure they didn't ask deeper questions, telling them that she wouldn't talk about him if they pushed too hard. she heard whispers, but it didn't bother her all that much since she had learnt to tune it out since being published. alice reopened the wound and stuck the knife in even deeper.
she couldn't stop crying as she brought her legs up to her chest, burying her face in her knees. she had loved him, even when they were just friends because he was the only person left who was openly kind to her. but also because he was just a good person, underneath all the bullshit and self-destruction, he was a kind soul. she could feel the heavy feeling returning to her bones, dragging her back down into the deep. she missed his stupid smile, the way he would hold his hand out just before she pulled out her pack of cigarettes, the way his nose wrinkled when she tried to give him tea instead of coffee. she missed hearing his voice and the difference between his serious voice and the voice he used when he was around her.
she forced herself to stop crying, something that she had become accustom to since writing the book. it wasn't healthy in the slightest, but it was the only way she could move on. she had to shove the feelings deep down just so she could keep on functioning. with a deep sigh, she wiped her eyes and went back inside, walking down the hallway and into her apartment. as she entered the room, she tried her hardest not to go straight to the bookshelf. she couldn't pick up the book, she couldn't do that to herself. instead, she sat on the edge of her bed, looking at her copy of "the sudden stop" and she could already see the inscription in her head.
samantha. i'm your number one fan. wake.