#trigger warning -> mentions of addiction

[krikeymate]

Last Christmas

Happy Christmas friends, have a good holiday.

2010

Christmas is quiet.

It used to be the one time of the year everyone would be together, and here. The one time when they felt like a real family, cracks wrapped in tinsel and smoothed over with smiles and sweets and pretty decorations.

The knowledge that they’ll never be whole again, that Sam had been the one to dig her fingers into the hole and pull and pull and pull, until it became a fissure – unignorable, unnavigable, damage that runs from the very top of their home, their family, and right down to the very foundations – leaves her bedbound.

Sam’s been lying here for days, crying until she’s hoarse and empty, unable to leave the safety of the nest she’s made, hidden away in the dark.

She wants to be left alone to rot. To be buried under an endless Winter. She can’t bear to face the world anymore; her mother, the truth. The knowledge of who she is, something rancid, something destructive, just like- just like… her father. It leaves her paralysed, desperate to disappear. To fall asleep and never wake up.

The thought shocks her. Like the crack of light that still slips past the door, like the small arms that still wind their way around her waist.

That thought is the first time Sam ever remembers being scared of herself.

It doesn’t get better from there.

2011

There’s a part of Tara that expected – hoped – that things could go back to normal. As close to normal as they could get.

Sam could see it in her eyes.

She had no idea yet just how broken everything was. She hadn’t learned just how cold and empty the world really was.

Sam couldn’t bear to be the one to extinguish that light in her baby sister’s eyes, so she closed the door instead.

Shut it in her face and walked away, disappeared into the night so she didn’t have to be the one to teach her that lesson.

Let her learn it on her own, where no one has to see her break.

It’s for the best.

It’s for the best.

She chants it to herself like a mantra.

She tells herself that Tara will be thankful for it one day.

Thankful that the devil turned away, broke her so she could come back stronger.

You can’t rely on anyone in this world. Not mothers, or fathers… or sisters.

Sam wanders, shoulders hunched and hood down, ignoring the suspicious stares from the passersby.

There’s a part of her that fears that they know, that they suspect.

She’s not entirely wrong.

Everyone’s a suspect these days, ever since… well.

If one fame-hungry youth can don a mask, why not another? Why not the blood of the one who started it all?

She can’t bear to be out here, to be acknowledged. She can’t bear to be at home, her mother’s knowing eyes, her sister’s tears.

She can’t- she just can’t.

So she stumbles down streets that grow dimmer and dimmer the further she walks, until she’s the other side of town and staring down salvation. It shimmers up at her from the bottom of a bottle.

She realises that night that she’s just like her mother, under a sticky tongue and warm hands around her waist.

She hopes that it means she can’t be like her father.

She hopes it means Tara will be like hers, and run, run far away from her, and never return.

2012

Tara’s finally starting to get the message.

Of course Sam goes and fucks up all that progress. She just couldn’t help herself. It’s what she does now, make everything harder.

She’d been thinking about it since school started up again. Mom had forgotten to pay for the bus, so now they had to walk.

Sam doesn’t care. The longer the journey takes, the longer she’s out of that house. But Tara… It’s impossible to ignore the wheezing and laboured breaths.

Tara’s not made for long walks, and while Sam pretends not to notice, she agonises inside.

She hadn’t thought there was more of her to break. Yet she does; watching her suffer, and the way Tara keeps it to herself, knowing she can’t rely on her big sister to help her anymore.

Sam hates herself for it.

So when she sees the bike dumped on the side of the road, a ‘free to a good home’ sign taped to the handlebars, how could she do anything but take it?

As she hoses down the grimy thing, pale pink peeking out from beneath mud and dust and dirt, Sam realises that she’ll always be a big sister, that she’ll never be able to stop looking out for Tara.

The thought is unsettling.

She kneels down to scrub at the rusty chain anyway. She just can’t help herself.

2013

Sam spends Christmas in a jail cell.

It’s not the first time she’s been arrested. It’s not the first time she’s had to swallow down guilt at Hicks’ disappointed and tired face.

It’s the first time she’s looked so angry through.

Sam doesn’t remember what she’d taken at that party, but she knows she wishes she’d taken more of it.

It hadn’t been enough to drown out the thoughts, the feelings.

It was supposed to drown out the feelings. They’d promised.

The anger at her mother. The guilt at every sad face. The longing to hold her sister. The fear, the ever-rising fear, of who she’s becoming.

She just wants it to stop.

She’d do anything to make it stop.

2014

The year kind of passes in a blur. Sam doesn’t really remember much of it.

She wakes up in a hospital on Christmas morning, her stomach freshly pumped, and her mother’s furious face in the doorway.

It’s been a while since she’s seen her, a few months at least. She’d kind of been hoping she was dead.

Christina screams at her.

She’d said that part out loud. Oops.

While her mother rages, Sam realises there’s a part of her that just doesn’t care anymore. It feels a bit like a victory, until the moment she mentions Tara.

The win sours.

2015

Tara turns 13 quietly, as she did when she turned 12, and 11, and 10. And every year before that.

Sam stares at the stars, a heaving duffle bag at her feet, and thinks back to the time she wished Tara would be the one to run away.

How selfish of her.

That’s what people say. Selfish Sam. Always causing trouble, ruining everything.

This is her sister’s birthday gift. Sam leaves tonight. She’ll never have to spend another Christmas wishing Sam was there, because she’ll never be there again.

She won’t string Tara along any longer. Sam makes that decision tonight, to cut the cord that binds them together. Let it never be stained red, let Sam never pull Tara to her doom.

With one last lingering look at the Woodsboro sky, Sam turns away. She’ll see those stars again, but it’ll never be the same.

One day she might see her sister again, but it’ll never be the same.

2016

Sam hasn’t spent a Christmas at home in forever, but this year is the first that feels that way. It hits her, that December 14th, just how far away she truly is.

Music thumps around her like a heartbeat, like a womb, encasing her, surrounding her. Suffocating her.

She should be with her family, but Sam has no family.

Only strangers.

Just like her, with nowhere else to be, no one else to be with.

Broken people congregating together.

Sam doesn’t know who she is anymore, doesn’t recognise the girl staring back at her.

When she’s offered a little something – to forget – how could she say no?

It makes the world a little brighter. She forgets herself for a little while, forgets the sister she left behind, forgets the date, forgets who she is.

And when it fades in the morning, she goes back for more.

2017

Today’s party is just one of many. She only learns the day when she’s shoved into a huddle and a shot glass slipped into her hand.

Oh, so that’s what they’d been celebrating.

Not that it matters.

Christmas means nothing to her anymore. Just bitter memories to match the taste on her tongue. She takes another drink.

Fuck Christmas.

Fuck families and presents and- and… and little angels who make the world worth living.

That’s not Sam’s world, not anymore. Maybe it never was.

The garden of Eden is no place for a snake.

Sam takes another drink.

Fuck Christmas.

2018

Sam lies on a dirty mattress, blood alight in her body, and dreams wide awake of a better life. She smiles as she thinks of the life she was going to have.

One far away from here, with no needle in her arm or in a room full of squatters. A big house, a pretty tree with presents underneath, her sister grinning up at her. They’d never be hungry or cold or want for anything.

Sam closes her eyes and hopes she never wakes up.

2019

She finds herself endlessly shivering. She doesn’t bother trying to turn on the heat, it wouldn’t make a difference, except to her wallet.

Let her freeze to death, maybe that’s her fate. Maybe that’s what she deserves.

Let her suffer. She bought this upon herself.

Sam doesn’t know why she’s trying to get sober. To really get sober, to clean herself up. She has nothing to live for, nothing to look forward to.

There’s just her, alone, with the voices in her head. The monster that’s clung to her dirty soul and taken root.

Sam wants it to stop.

But the drugs don’t help anymore, and the drink numbs not a thing.

So now she’s trying something new.

She’s asking for help.

She wishes she’d asked for help sooner, before she’d lost everything she lived for.

2020

It’s quiet.

It’s been so long since things have been quiet.

New medication sits heavily in her stomach, anxiety making it churn. Her head has been silent so far, the only voice her own since she started taking them, but the fear never leaves her.

There’s a part of her that knows it’s only temporary.

It all feels temporary.

The apartment, the job, the sparkling water she chugs every time she longs for a drink.

How could it last? Nothing good ever does.

She watches the snow fall from the window ledge, and waits for the world to fall apart all over again, waits for the inevitable fuck up to come and throw her from her feet once again.

But until that moment, she’ll rest her head on the glass and remember bright brown eyes and rosy cheeks, and laughter that lives in her soul.

If she closes her eyes, she can pretend she’s still there.

She wishes she was still there.

2021

Sam sits in a dark apartment, Christmas movies playing on the tv.

She’s long since tuned it out, the speakers nothing but background noise to her aching heart.

She feels so much older than 24. It feels so much longer than 5 years since she’s seen her sister.

She feels so tired.

Tired of waiting for things to change. She doesn’t even know what she’s waiting for anymore. A sign, perhaps. That she’s not who she fears she is, that she hasn’t ruined her life. That Tara might still want her.

Her phone shakes in her hand, her eternally-baby sister’s angelic face lighting up the screen.

Every year Tara calls.

Every year, Sam can’t bring herself to answer.

She doesn’t have the strength to deny herself. She’s an addict. If she gives in, she’ll never stop.

If she answers, she’ll go home.

If she goes home, Tara dies.

The phone falls silent once again.

2022

It should have been impossible to miss Christmas, to forget about it, yet somehow, she – they – do.

Sam really doesn’t know how it happened.

The decorations, the music, the advertisements everywhere. She misses it all, doesn’t pay it a lick of attention.

Her entire focus is on her healing sister, the world around them nothing but a blur.

She’s shocked when Martha drops by with a dinner for the both of them, and cookies to boot. It’s how she gets the jump on her, and Sam feels the love of a mother for the first time since she was a child, warm arms wrapping around her and whispering sweet words of praise.

Sam blames the tears that form on the cold winter air.

For a moment Sam feels over a decade younger, her exhausted bones untouched by the horrors of the world.

When Tara hobbles downstairs and goes straight for the cookies, the world beings to feel right once more.

2023

Sam had seven hours.

That was long enough, right? Right?

It had to be.

It was T-minus less than two weeks till Christmas, and Tara still hadn’t said a thing. Sam had been waiting, waiting for her to bring it up - to mention gifts, to suggest decorating, to- to complain about the Christmas music everywhere! Anything. She’d been waiting for any sort of acknowledgement at all.

It hadn’t happened.

Even the twins had been avoiding the subject, oddly tentative with more consideration than they usually held. Well, Mindy anyway. The closest reference to Christmas had been Chad carefully mentioning last week that they had planned to go home, for the break, if we had wanted to join them.

While Sam had been holding her breath, Tara had barely blinked, not lifting her eyes from her paper and continuing with her essay, mumbling I’m good thanks back at him.

That’s when Sam realised that nothing was going to happen if she didn’t make it happen.

So here she was, making it happen.

She’d sent Tara off to her final exam of the year with a “happy birthday, love,” a homemade lunch, and a kiss on the cheek. And the twins off with a secret mission of keep Tara busy and celebrate her birthday.

They were going to celebrate Christmas for the first time in over a decade even if it killed her.

And with how hard it was to get the tree up all those stairs, it may still kill her yet.

Sam faces the Christmas markets with the countenance of a freshly-uniformed soldier going to war, but she does it for love, and returns victorious with a bounty of decorations in every colour. More decorations than they could ever need, given their tiny apartment, but no less than Tara deserves.  

Sam has so much to make up for.

The lost years sit heavy in her chest.

The guilt.

She swallows it all away, tongue fizzing beneath the sparkling water.

Her therapist says she needs to let go of the past, to look forward, to focus on the present.

It’s easy when Tara is by her side, how could Sam fall apart with her near? But every time she leaves, it’s like a part of Sam goes with her.

But Tara will be back in- Shit. Presents. She’s still got to sort out presents.

Buying gifts is the easiest – and the hardest – thing in the world.

Chad and Mindy are easy to buy for, video games and true crime novels and horror movies are aplenty, and worth it, even if it means she’ll have to listen to them talk her ear off about them later.

And Tara, Tara’s so easy to buy for. Well, she’s hard to buy for, but Sam would buy her anything. Give her anything. Anything, everything.

Ok, so buying a gift for Tara was a little harder than she expected. After all, she’d already bought her everything she’s ever shown the slightest interest in.

Shit, why does Sam always make things harder for herself?

Sam’s close to tears by the time she gets a on our way back text from Chad. She’d returned home empty handed an hour ago and frantically scoured the internet, turned the house upside down, considered texting their mother. All for a single idea.

Then her hand smacks against a diary.

Sam’s diary.

And she knows she has the perfect gift.

Sometimes – often – Sam forgets where she is when she wakes. Years of sleeping on stranger’s couches and in cars, motels and in doorways; she never really knew where she would wake up, whether it was safe.

She’d learnt to assess the situation before her memories kicked in, before she was truly awake.

It’s not a habit easily broken.

For a moment, Sam forgets where she is, and who she is, and when she is.

She feels the cold nose on her neck and heartbeat against hers, Christmas music on the radio and chilly toes escaping the covers, and briefly wonders whether mom is going to make pancakes or waffles for breakfast, prepares herself for dad to barge in in that stupid santa suit.

Then she remembers.

She has no father, no mother. Those days are long since gone.

But Tara is still here.

Sam can’t help but smile.

She could lose everything, but so long as she still has her sister, that’s all she needs.

“Tara!” Sam nudges her sister off her, rolling them over. “Tara, wake up!”

The girl groans, arm flopping over her eyes. “Saaammm,” she whines. “It’s too early.”

Sam can’t help but bounce a little as she pushes at Tara’s shoulders. “It’s Christmas! Wake up!”

The scowl that her sister sends her only makes her smile grow. She recalls all the years of small knees digging into her stomach at 6am, pouting lips and desperate enthusiasm, begging her to get up so she can open her presents.

For the first time in so long, Sam feels young again.

“Taaarrraaa,” she whines back, collapsing onto the smaller girl. “Get up and make waffles with me!”

Tara’s hand slaps down gently on the back of Sam’s head. “You’re a nightmare,” she mumbles with a small smile. “Can’t believe you woke me up at-” she glances to the side, “7.30. Eugh.”

“It’s Christmas,” Sam says, looking up with a grin.

“It’s Christmas,” Tara agrees, grinning back.

Sam’s eyes soften. “Merry Christmas Tara,” she whispers, dropping a kiss to her neck.

Small arms wrap around her waist. “Merry Christmas Sam.”

[aspdshibusawa]

i dont see a point in taking care of my body as i dont feel human. this is not my body. i don't see eating as necessary. why eating when i can drink and smoke? drinking and smoking makes me waaay happier than eating. my body is more like a machine, im more like a robot than a human

[boredcvts]

dear parents,

please let me st@rve & cvt myself

thank you!

[krikeymate]

Fic title “I tried”

Sam spins around the doorway and feels like she can finally breathe for the first time all night. Her sister had been missing for hours, upset and borderline hysterical when she ran from the twins, but she’s finally found her.

Whatever it is, whatever’s wrong, Sam can fix it. She's here now.

Her sister is huddled in the corner of some stranger's bedroom, music thumping up from the floor below. The room isn’t lit, brightened only by the light of the hallway from the open door, but something tells Sam this is nothing short of deliberate. Tara's face is hidden behind her hair and turned away, but Sam doesn't need to see the figure’s face to know it's her sister.

Bright pink boots stand out in the darkness with recognisable peeling stickers on the toes. There’s the glint of a bracelet around her wrist, a carefully selected gift from Sam herself, given this past Christmas and decorated with a unique selection of charms.

And who else would go to a party only to hide away somewhere dark and alone, except someone who knows they shouldn’t be there at all?

Besides, Sam has always known her sister. Even if she doesn’t know herself.

She steps into the room, pushing the door closed behind her, left open only by a crack. Hey, she whispers into the dark.

Her greeting is answered only by the shuffle of feet against the carpet as the figure huddles themself tighter, like she could become less visible if only she made herself smaller.

Sam has no choice but to take it as an invitation, dropping herself down next to her sister, leaving no space between them. She presses her arm against her, hoping she takes as much comfort from the contact as Sam would herself.

They sit there together in silence for minutes, before Tara can take it no longer.

“I tried,” she whispers, gaze fixed on her fingers, shaking and wrapped around a bottle nestled into her lap. “I really really tried.”

Sam drops her head to Tara’s shoulder, desperate to comfort her but not knowing where to start, what she needs.

“I know,” she murmurs softly. She wonders which Tara’s referring to – the exam she failed, the avoidance and running, the refusal to pick up her phone, or the drinking habit she’d been trying to quit. She wonders if Tara even knows herself.

It doesn’t matter. Sam’s here to help her through it all. Her sister will never have to struggle alone, not while Sam breathes.

She reaches out for the bottle in Tara’s hands and slides it free. Expensive, and out of place at this last-minute frat party.

This isn’t the first place Tara has stopped at tonight, Sam thinks.

Dropping it beside her, she reaches back to tilt her sister’s face towards her. Her eyes are red and puffy, tear tracks shining on her face. She’d been crying for a while, it feels a lot like a noose around her neck to know Tara thought she had to deal with this pain alone.

Tara’s lip shakes as her eyes well with fresh tears. “I don’t know what to do,” she cries.

In an instant, Sam is upright and pulling her sister into her lap. “We’ll figure it out, my love,” she promises. “You’re not alone.”

Tara clings onto her sister, fingers digging tightly into her back.

“I fucked up, I really fucked up Sam.”

“There is nothing you can do that we can’t fix, together.

[zombieruinsz]

bruh

[husks-bar-talks]

Alastor, what brings you here?

Alastor: Why I wouldn't miss out on such an entertaining activity!

Charlie: Oh, I'm so glad you could join, Al!!

Adam: *picking himself up* Yeah, a real joy.

Charlie: Adam, I won't make you do the dare if you're that uncomfortable with it. But! Because you forfeit, you'll have to do the dishes tonight!

Adam: Oh that's fucking bull.

Alastor: I normally don't partake in these, but I think I'll have a go.

Charlie: *lights up immediately* OH MY GOSH YES.

Alastor: I'll go with truth.

Charlie: Okay! Um....oh! When did you become a cannibal?

Alastor: Aha! Now that's a fun memory! It was after my third kill, I was trying to figure out what to do with the bodies. On impulse, I decided to try-

Husk: On second thought, we don't need the details. *He looks a bit green*

[ghost-of-you]

I found this reaction to 5sos5 and it provided a new perspective on what the album could be about: https://youtu.be/OELCdhmi2io?si=3kLmP0fP2S3-VSWB

Wait wait wait I'm sorry but having shit like caramel be about the color of some hard licors and the comedown of getting sober is kinda mind-blowing. You add that to tracks like ydgtp and red line and tears and bloodhound even bleach and efyts and have that be about you fighting yourself and themes like addiction and alcoholism actually adds a whole new layer of interpretations about the songs. I think you can actually contextualize most of the song on the album around this and OH MY GOD. I'm legit staring at the wall trying to formulate something more coherent but he legit broke me. The whole motif of running around in circles trying to chase something you cant find anymore applied to trying to find the person you felt like you were when drinking or getting high was fun and made you feel good but now every time you crash, you crash harder so you try to stay away but you keep relapsing is actually fascinating. And it works? "When I lived between the bars" "it's hard to fake when I'm not faded" "I guess that's why I'm always high" "all my friends are up in mars... another lonely night" the entirety of bloodhound??? Like legit I'm sitting here 🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯 thank you so much for sending this, will be thinking about it forever.

[that-foul-legacy-lover]

oh my god what happened?? are you alright? do you need any help?

alright i will preface this by saying that physically, i am COMPLETELY FINE. please don't worry about me too much, i promise i'm physically okay and it's not that bad

the rest is under the cut not for length but in case people want to skip past it (warning for people being unpleasant)

so the short story is that someone i thought was an online friend suddenly sent me a pretty awful DM before blocking me. they said a lot of genuinely hurtful things which wasn't really good for my mental state since they preyed on a bunch of my insecurities, and i thought that i could trust this person. i'm doing better now thanks to my irl friends, but recovery is a process as usual. i'm not sure if you can really help apart from being emotional support, but your concern is appreciated nonetheless <3

[urstarvingbestfriendbrookkk]

i'm so fucking lonely. i'm never the first choice in anything, not friendships not relationships. why does nobody love me ?

[zombieruinsz]

hai

[boredcvts]

got too silly

im re-visiting the psych ward next week >.<

[amberswilddreams]

fire & rain💔🫶

pairing : kian egan x fem!reader

summary : astoria egan, kian egan's wife, finds out that her oldest sister who had a drug addiction killed herself because at the psychiatric hospital she was in, she needed to be confined to an isolation cell. astoria had to be told over a phone call whilst she was backstage at a westlife gig with her husband and his bandmates. 

warnings : sadness, death, crying, maybe a funeral but a happy ending with a sweet birthday post for the deceased sister

a/n : i have written this once before but because it's sad and it's another kian one-shot, i've decided to rewrite it! always, flashbacks in italics, lowercase, and any phone calls or messages will be in italics and in bold and you'll know who is who and the lyrics are in bold italics! and as you can possibly tell like the last time i wrote this, this piece was inspired by james taylor's song, fire and rain. enjoy my lovely dovelies xx

just yesterday morning, they let me know you were gone. suzanne, the plans they made put an end to you. i've seen fire and i've seen rain. i've seen sunny days that i thought would never end. i've seen lonely times when i could not find a friend, but i always thought that i'd see you again. 

astoria had been hanging out with her husband and the westlife lads and family when resting backstage before a show. her phone had been buzzing like crazy and all she was trying to do was relax with her husband and family before the band were to do a concert. she was constantly apologising anytime her phone rudely interrupted a conversation or a joke but, no one took offence to it. they had only become worried due to how consistently her iphone was buzzing but astoria kept on pushing it off, saying they didn't need to worry since it wasn't necessary. that was until it did become important when texts stopped coming through but her phone started ringing. when kian spoke up saying that it was probably a smart idea for astoria to answer it, she timidly shook her head and excused herself further from the dressing room and out into the corridor. astoria finally paid attention to her phone and saw that it was her mum that had been texting her but it was the psychiatric hospital that her drug-addicted sister was admitted to that was ringing her. taken aback, astoria hesitantly accepted the call as the psychiatric hospital was never one to really ring the families of the patients unless it was an emergency so, what emergency could they be ringing astoria up for? especially considering astoria isn't the main point of contact for her sister, she still picked the phone call up nevertheless and probably wishes she didn't whenever she brings herself back to this moment. 

suzanne's psychiatric hospital 

hello, this is dr randolff from [...] psychiatric hospital. am i speaking with mrs astoria egan? 

yes, this is she. is everything okay, dr randolff? 

i'm afraid not, mrs egan, hence why i've called you and why you've been sent tons of messages from your mother, mrs menendez 

oh, okay, umm, may i ask the reasoning for this call as i am actually on tour with my husband and his band right now just before their concert in a different county to where suzie is. is...is suzanne okay? is she doing her rehab? is she--

--this is why i am ringing you because this phone call does have to do with your older sister suzanne menendez and it is unfortunately not good news i'm afraid either 

and? could you please tell me, dr? my husband is in another room waiting for me, what's wrong? 

suzanne has unfortunately passed away, mrs egan. she was found dead in her room, laying in her own blood with a gun by her side. we suspect that she shot herself after we had told her that for the safety of herself and others that she would need to be moved into an isolation cell, away from everyone else...

....su...suzie's dead? 

i am afraid so, mrs egan. it breaks my heart to have to tell you this over the phone but there was simply no other way considering you are out of the county and i would not have been able to get this information to you in any other way but through this phone call. in regards to the passing of your older sister, the staff at the hospital, local law enforcement and your mum back home in wales are working together at this moment to see if we are able to bring suzie's body back home to ireland safely. we are going to continue to work closely with your mum, family and law enforcement just to make sure there was no foul play involved. if there is anything else that i, or the rest of my staff, can do to help, please don't hesitate to ring us, okay? 

okay, thank you so much, dr randolff. thank you for ringing me and letting me know! 

bye astoria, please take care, sweetheart. see you soon 

bye, dr randolff, you take care too, suzie was your patient so you deserve to have a moment to grieve for yourself too. see you soon

end call

once the call was disconnected, astoria cleared her throat and went right back over into the dressing room to her husband and westlife family. acting as if everything was okay and that the phone call was just her mum. however, kian knew better than that and knew something wasn't right and that this phone call wasn't just her mum ringing her. pulling her aside from the group once again, kian was careful with how he brought up the phone call that clearly shocked, unsuspecting and devastated astoria no matter how hard she tried to hide it. 

"...ria, darling, who rang you? is everything okay?" kian softly asked as astoria was frozen almost, it was like she was in a state of shock 

she didn't know how to react or what to do so, she just handed her phone to her husband where he was shown who the phone call had come from and the texts that her mum sent her, almost immediately, kian could feel himself getting all choked up and emotional at how erratic his mother-in-law's text messages to her daughter were. they were messages that astoria had been ignoring before the phone call gave her the exact same information as her mum's desperate text messages in all caps did. 

"ria, darling, why didn't you tell me what these messages were?" kian spoke up again as astoria just looked up at her husband, her mouth open in shock as she just shrugged her shoulders as kian closed his eyes, refusing to cry straight away 

"i...i didn't realise the reason why mum was texting me so desperately in the first place..." astoria trailed off quietly as kian bit his lip as he pulled his wife in for a hug, knowing how painful the loss of her older sister was going to be for her

"...oh, oh, darling! i am so sorry, come here!" kian whispered, even though he was already hugging her, he pulled her in closer as she wrapped her arms around her husband's torso in absolute shock, not even able to cry 

"my older sister is dead, kian, she...she's just gone..." astoria trailed off as she rested her chin on kian's shoulder, her mouth slightly open in shock and her eyes constantly moving around the room that seemed as if it was swallowing her whole 

kian breathed in and out as he tried to stay calm for the sake of his wife. holding her close, he could feel like he had a good sense of what was going through her mind as they stood there in an embrace that looked romantic but felt more heartbreaking than any romantic gesture. 

"i...i just...i thought i'd see her again..." astoria broke what was silence between the husband and wife as kian nodded his head, rubbing his hand against his wife's back as he held her close and tight

 "...i know darling, i did too, i did too," kian whispered as he swayed the both of them side to side with no other words or noises to interrupt their moment of silence in what was a moment of loud, aggressive noises in astoria's mind

won't you look down upon me, jesus, you've got to help me make a stand. you've just got to see me through another day! my body's aching and my time is at hand and i won't make it any other way, oh, i've seen fire and i've seen rain. i've seen sunny days that i thought would never end. 

astoria found herself smiling as she looked through a photo album of family photos from when she, suzanne and their four other siblings were younger and having the times of their lives. it had now hit the five-month mark since suzanne had died and whilst astoria was still utterly devastated that she was gone, the thing that killed, no pun intended, her more and more each day was what she said at suzanne's funeral. at the time of her sister's funeral, it had been two weeks since the happenings of her sister's death and she was finally back from being on tour with westlife as was her sister's body from the psychiatric hospital in wales and astoria still hadn't got to her "depression" stage of grief and still hadn't broken down in tears over her sister's death. 

this worried her entire family, including the westlife family but none more especially than kian. it worried kian because astoria, similar to kian, was the definition of a crybaby. she would start crying over everything yet nothing at the same time. so, when this horrific news of losing her sister crashed into the universe, it seemed as if astoria's emotions started to shut down one by one. and this was something that kian did not like one bit because when it came to the funeral when she said the eulogy for her sister, it just seemed like the words she was saying to those who didn't know the sibling relationship between suzanne and astoria was that they were in fact, sisters. all because it looked as if astoria wasn't showing the "correct" emotions that were supposedly meant to be felt at a funeral of a loved one. 

everyone was in shock to hear that there was in fact another sister in the menendez family. they always thought mary-kate and steven only had two girls and three boys but, no, as the parents have always told everyone, they have always had three girls and three boys which equates to, shockingly, six kids. the only reason why people still refused to believe there were six kids was that, at the time, astoria didn't like her photos being posted online by her parents, which, they both respected when the internet started to become a thing and didn't post photos of her online, even in family photos, she was either cropped out or blurred out when posted by her parents which always left questioning comments as to who the "blurred-out or cropped out mystery" was. so, watching what some people paying their respects at this funeral thought was the "mysterious sixth child" walk up to the microphone to say a eulogy, was interesting. 

it seemed as if an entire group of people's stubbornness, thick-headedness and straight-up stupidity slipped away as they finally dropped the act and finally paid attention to the facts that had been there for years. astoria stood at the microphone and her eyes scanned through the room. knowing pretty much every single person, even those who constantly commented on her parents' facebook posts that their sixth child wasn't a real person or better yet, not their child, death stared them. almost saying "surprise, bitch" and "sucks you had to finally get the hard truth that i actually am real at my sister's funeral, how unfortunate for you for being so stupid for this long,".  

kian gave his wife a look of support as she opened her mouth and began her eulogy, "suzanne was my older sister, she was the oldest of six and it was very clear how favoured she was to the other five of us *giggles*. i'm astoria, i'm the youngest out of the six siblings which i know has given me some strange looks but, it's true but, let's please focus on the actual reason we're here today because it's not me *the hall falls completely silent*. even though there is quite a gap in age between suzanne and me, we were the two siblings that got along perfectly. besides austin and me but, that's a story for a less upsetting day *lighthearted laughter* sorry, i...that wasn't supposed to come out that way but, umm, anyway... despite the age gap between suzie and me, we were the best of friends. we did everything together, we went shopping together, we would go on double dates together with our husbands, and we would sleep in each other's beds just because we wanted to feel like children again..." astoria trailed off as she decided against staring down the still stubborn people who refused to believe they were wrong and continued her eulogy 

she quickly moved her eyes back over to her husband's, watching as they filled with tears as she took in a deep breath, continuing, "the first time we were split from each other was when suzanne was put into the psych hospital for her mental health and addictions to drugs after she had sobered herself up from alcohol, not able to do the same for the drugs, even when she tried her hardest when she got pregnant and had her children..." hearing his wife talk about addiction as an outsider who came into the family and saw the way it ended for his sister-in-law was heartbreaking for kian 

"...watching the way my sister was losing herself to all these drugs was absolutely terrifying. it really showed me a new side to her that i hadn't ever been exposed to and it wasn't something you would want to see nor wish on your worst enemy when you saw the reality of it daily. the way she'd be so nice one day and then absolutely awful the next is something i don't think i'll ever really be able to erase from my memory. i had never seen the effects of drugs on somebody until i watched it happen to her for my husband, thankfully, even though he's a goddamn pop star, westlife legend *lighthearted laughter titters through the church* and never got into the downward spiral of addiction. i...umm, i just wished she fought for a bit longer and didn't give up because i just wish for that day i'd get that call say...saying that she had finished her recovery and is able to come home... and i wished her husband and children could have gotten that call as well..." 

"...i mean, that's the one thing i've been constantly dreaming about every night since i got the other phone call that on the other side of things, i never thought nor wished i'd ever receive about suzanne. i also know it was something that suzie was wanting so hard for herself the last time we talked because she was wanting to recover and become sober so she could be discharged and be with her family again. i thank every living god that i was with my husband after i had that phone call otherwise i don't think i would have known my limits and accidentally turned into the same ghost of a person that she did. kian realised what was going on in my head and forced his mum, my mother-in-law, patricia, to leave the westlife concert and bring me back home. for almost two hours, she sat with me and hugged me and took care of me, listening to my silly demands, making sure i was eating and drinking until kian came home and told his mum that he could take it from here and that she could go home. when kian got home, he sat in front of me and just listened as i just talked and talked until i couldn't any longer before i shut down and kind of became mad at the fact that suzanne gave up so easily..." astoria trailed off as she suddenly became angry again, kian's eyes widening in worry that a similar thing was going to happen again 

"...however, i took a step back and realised, the only reason why i said she gave up so easily was that i wasn't living in suzanne's mind. i wasn't living her life through her lens and i wasn't having to open my eyes every day and go through those treatments, those hardships every single day as she did every day. how selfish was i, someone who was well aware of my sister's disease to be all of a sudden mad at her because she was struggling in a place, an institution where she was supposed to be getting help?! i...i, i just wanted to see her one last time, to hug her one last time. to just see her smile, to hear her laugh, to watch her play around with her husband and children and just be suzanne..." astoria couldn't bear to say another word as she closed her mouth, locked her jaw and walked off the stage and sat right back down next to kian who straight away comforted her and made sure she was okay 

~

sweet dreams and flying machines in pieces on the ground, oh, i've seen fire and i've seen rain. i've seen sunny days that i thought would never end. i've seen lonely times when i could not find a friend, but i always thought that i'd see you, baby, one more time again, now. 

astoria smiled as she woke up on the morning of what was supposed to be her older sister's 37th birthday. she giggled as she brought her arms above her head to stretch when she heard her husband singing what she swore was a michael buble song, me and mrs jones when he was supposed to be making breakfast for the both of them. shaking her head, she got herself up out of bed, grabbed her phone and walked down the stairs into the kitchen to see why her husband was singing and not cooking them the breakfast he promised her he'd make for them in celebration of their sister and sister-in-law's 37th. 

"me and mrs jones, mrs, mrs, mrs jones, mrs jones, mrs jones..." 

"--kian, sweetheart, why are we singing instead of cooking?" astoria jokingly asked, pressing pause on the song from kian's phone as he smiled and stifled a chuckle 

"because, it's a good song thank you very much, darling! i do not appreciate your teasing!" kian spoke in a posh british accent instead of his normal sligonian, irish accent which made astoria giggle even more 

"i'm just teasing babe, you know i love hearing your smooth, raspy, sexy morning vocals in the morning!" astoria smiled as she wrapped her arms around her husband's naked chest and rested her head against his back as he smiled back 

"i know you were joking my love! how are you, you feel good?" kian then asked as astoria smiled bigger, appreciating that he was still checking in with her after having a rough patch a couple of weeks ago after realising that it was going to be her sister's birthday soon and wasn't going to be alive to celebrate it 

"i'm feeling good my darling, i'm excited for today because it's going to be a good one! it's suzie's 37th birthday and i know she's partying it up wherever it is she is!" astoria smiled as kian smiled back, content in knowing that his wife was slowly returning back to her normal self 

"i'm glad to hear that my love! well, i shall not keep you waiting for breakfast so, just rest on the couch, pop the tv on and i'll call you when breakfast is finished!" kian kissed his wife on the cheek as she nodded and then left the kitchen and wandered into the lounge room to put something interesting on whilst her husband finished breakfast 

it hadn't taken the husband and wife that long to finish breakfast after kian had finished making it. when all of a sudden, it was around lunchtime and notifications of birthday messages to suzanne's still-active facebook were pinging. whilst there was still a painful pinch to the heart for both astoria and kian, it mostly just made them smile that mary-kate and steven refused to deactivate their eldest daughter's social media just because she was now deceased. it made the entire family feel like people still cared about suzanne if they wrote birthday messages and just sent photos of themselves with suzanne to her dashboard for the reason that they just missed their best friend, work colleague, cousin, sister, daughter, niece, etc. 

so, as astoria and kian went through the birthday messages and liked them and commented back on them, that was when astoria got the idea to post on her instagram for her sister. it was something she hadn't done in a while and, in all honesty, she missed posting photos of her and her sister so, that's what she did! 

liked by kianegan, shanefilanofficial, austinmenendez, selenamenendez, nickybyrneinsta, stormykeating and 8k others

astoriaegan it's your 37th birthday today, suzie, and it's the birthday you were really hoping you'd be able to celebrate with us outside of the psych hospital. but it's okay that you're celebrating somewhere else where you're safer and not have to constantly walk on eggshells everywhere you go, cause i know that's not how you wanted to live your life. i just know for sure that you're singing fire and rain by james taylor and about every single westlife song and annoying every single person with your awful, screechy, pitchy singing but, i'm sure they're just glad you're finally happy again. i really do love you a lot, suzie and these three photos i like to think really show that. the first photo was from kian and i's wedding when you were my maid of honour and the only one who was able to see me get into my wedding dress. the second one was during my hens night and our theme was "dress up or give up" where we were either dressed up looking like we were going out to win a damn meteor ireland award or to give up and wear the daggiest clothes and every single person dressed up but in all honesty, suzie, you were the best dressed that night and i can't even be mad at you for upstaging me at my own hens night. and i'll also never forget the two of us being accidentally mistaken for mother and daughter, you being the mother and me being the daughter and you being the most offended i had ever seen you as selena, gillian, georgina and the rest of the bridal party just laughed at your reaction as we continued to have our hysterical fun before kian and i's barbados wedding. and this last photo is probably my favourite of all time. we were in barbados (when are we not, my husband is bloody kian egan for god's sake) for my 30th birthday with the family and kian's family and, like at my hens night, i was mistaken for an actual teenager despite the fact i was wearing a pin that clearly stated that i was turning 30. i'll never forget how happy we all were but especially you. the smile you smiled, the laughs you laughed and the you you were, were the most genuine i had seen in a long time, it felt like it had been since we were kids that i'd seen you that happy. my 30th and your 37th were two birthdays that you really wanted to be in recovery and sober for and, i'm just grateful, like you definitely were, that you were at least sober for my birthday because that's just how selfless you were. you cared more about your own family than yourself and the original reason why you wanted to recover and become sober was for the family and your husband and kids, i'm just grateful to say that for the most part, you were sober and it was truly only in the last couple months before your death that really snatched you away. i love you forever, suzie, you are always going to be my fire and rain. love, astoria 🤍

p.s. your kids, arlo and sage are absolutely gorgeous and are looking like their stunning mamma every single day. and mr menendez-mcknight is also doing well, just so you didn't have to worry about them 🤍

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kianegan i am so proud of you my darling! i know how hard this has been for you but you still prove so many people wrong! we all love you so much suzie 🤍

shanefilanofficial these photos are wonderful and really capture the authentic suzie that we all knew and loved. what an honour it was to know her, astoria 🤍

austinmenendez aww, these photos ria! they are so gorgeous! happy birthday, suzie 🤍

selenamenendez happy 37th suz. beautiful post ria 🤍

nickybyrneinsta i've got tears in my eyes reading this, astoria. this was a beautiful post for your sister and it was an honour to know her 🤍

stormykeating my heart is torn and heartbroken reading this. happy heavenly 37th birthday suzie, you are so loved baby 🤍

fanofkianandastoriaegan happy 37th suzie! 

markusmoments happy birthday in heaven suzie su 🤍 

gillianfilansligo happy birthday, suzie poo, i miss your pretty face 🤍

georginaahernbyrne happy heaven birthday suzie su 🤍

thought i'd see you one more time again. there's just a few things coming my way this time around, now. thought i'd see you, thought i'd see you, fire and rain, now. 

fin

why am i so good at writing such depressing things? i seriously need help that's for sure!

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