Chapter 21 (Third wheel or something)

Clinton

Mitchel had gotten himself into trouble before. It was sort of Clinton's job to keep an eye on him and make sure that he was okay. And he thought he was- or at least, as okay as Mitchel would ever be.

But it didn't make much sense. The Mitchel that he knew was loving and kind. He wouldn't hurt anyone, especially Molly. He thought he liked Molly. Were there signs that he'd overlooked or simply did not notice? How could he have let Mitchel slip up again? How did he manage to let Mitchel do this to himself?

Clinton drove down the LA streets in no particular direction. He had to get away. He had to think. Nothing was what it seemed.

The sky was bright as it was early in the afternoon. Clinton thought about how quickly things had changed. It was as if everything was okay a week ago. And then the police came. He'd thought it was ridiculous that they wanted to question Christian. He supposed that it still was. Christian wasn't the one who hurt his girlfriend, yet he was just as guilty as Mitchel was. He knew what happened. And he still stood by Mitchel. He'd begged Clinton to forgive his younger brother- begged him to listen to what he had to say.

Listening wouldn't change anything. It wouldn't rewind history. Mitchel wouldn't get a do-over, and somehow, Clinton knew that he'd be the one that would have to fix things, just as he did the last time.

Clinton inhaled a deep breath before exhaling a deep sigh. Life was hard. He was tired. He had things on his mind and he was stressed. Why did this have to happen now? Why did his heart have to ache so much at the very thought of his youngest brother?

He drove in silence for a half-hour and he listened to the sound of his thoughts until his phone started to vibrate. He glanced at the screen which lit up as he reached a stoplight. It was his Mother. She must have been calling to check in and see how he was doing. Clinton glanced at the numbers at the top of his screen which told him what time it was. Why was his mother calling at such a bizarre hour?

He didn't pick up the call. He knew that he'd sound weird and she'd get worried if he spoke to her- yet if he didn't pick up, she'd worry more. After a few seconds of contemplating, his phone stopped ringing and the decision was made for him.

He looked back out of his window as the light turned green. The car didn't move as he sat in his seat, watching as the clouds in the sky slowly moved. A few honks from the cars behind him were enough to snap him out of his trance.

His body was reacting weirdly. His heart was racing and his palms were slick with sweat on the wheel. He felt dizzy and as is his brain was scrambled. The world had been moving too quickly for him and he just needed it to stop. He wanted a break, he wanted out, he just needed a minute to breathe and-

His phone lit up and the familiar tune of his ringtone filled the car once again. Clinton glanced at it as he rounded a corner, realizing that he'd managed to drive in a circle and was heading back home.

It wasn't his Mother that called him this time- it was Sydney. Taking a deep breath, he pressed the 'Accept' button and was immediately met with the sound of his distressed fiance. With their wedding approaching, the stress levels were high and even higher for the blond singer who took part in most of the planning.

"Clinton?" She called, and he could tell that she was walking by the sound of her heels clicking on what sounded like wooden floors. "Clinton, I need you to pick me up," She said. He could have sworn that her voice broke and the thought that she might have known what happened crossed his head.

He shook the thought away, glancing at the time.

"Uh, sure, babe, where are you?" There was more clacking before she answered.

I'm at the dining hall, babe, but I need you to come quickly, I-" She stopped speaking and the clack of her heels stopped. "Please just come," She pleaded.

Clinton had already turned around and headed in her direction.

"Of course, I'll be right there," He replied, feeling surprised at how easily his nerves had calmed. His hands were firm against the wheel as he drove. Sydney had already hung up and he was there in ten minutes.

During the entire ride, he racked his brain in search of what he should do. He couldn't tell his fiance what he had learned, and there was no way in hell that he'd go to the cops. His little brother may have messed up, but he was his responsibility, and he was going to do his absolute best to protect him.

+++

Sydney

Sydney slid into the passenger seat. Usually, she'd wrap her arm around her fiance's neck and kiss him, but this time, she stared straight ahead, trying to steady her breathing.

She'd barely looked at herself in any of the mirrors that she'd passed while getting into the car, but she didn't need to see her reflection to know that she looked like a hot mess- that is, an emphasis on the 'hot'.

As Clinton guided his car to the main road and headed for her temporary apartment, she allowed herself to burst into tears. She could already imagine Clinton's expression: slightly panicked and concerned.

"Hey, hey, what's wrong?" He asked, reaching out and placing a hand on her thigh. She cried harder, despite how she knew that even her waterproof mascara was no match against her tears.

When she got the call, she had to stay calm. She was at the dining hall, after all, and she had to maintain her image. She had to be glowing and appear as happy as she could, but her call had changed everything.

"Talk to me," Clinton said, and she peered at him with puffy eyes through the rearview mirror. She sniffed and ran her hand under her nose, pulling at the hem of her dress.

"Clinton, you can't be mad," she said, wiping her eyes.

She watched as his brows furrowed.

"I won't be, babe, what happened?" He asked. He glanced at her with sad eyes. Clinton was the type of man that would cry if he saw someone else cry. He was a compassionate human, and she knew that she would never deserve him.

His unwavering love for her was immeasurable and unconditional, yet she wondered if he had it in him to love her even after what she had to tell him.

"I'm sorry, I know you said you didn't want it right now, but it's happening and I can't do much about it, and-" Her voice shook as she spoke and she couldn't hold back her sobs enough to tell him what happened. And when she could, it was too late.

Clinton

Sydney was worrying him. Sure, sometimes she was a little melodramatic, but it was nothing he couldn't handle. After all, he loved her for being her. He loved how much of a diva she was, loved how she couldn't walk past a mirror without peering into it. He loved how she was kind and patient with him, and stuck by his side even when he wanted to end it all.

She was his angel and there was nothing that anyone could do to tear her away from him. She was his and he was hers.

Her words and tears worried him. Her distraught voice pulled at his heart though he was already under too much pressure. Clinton focussed on his fiance, tears pricking his eyes once again.

"Come on, Love, just tell me what's bothering you," He pleaded, reaching out and touching her face. She grabbed onto his hand, and he felt her fingers tremble as she looked at him through red eyes.

She bit her lip and took a shaky breath, and she was just about to tell him what happened. But Clinton had been distracted. His eyes weren't where they were supposed to be. The couple had been so caught up in the moment that they didn't hear the honks. They didn't hear the tires as they squealed and groaned.

They both were deep in their world and it was like no one else existed. And that was the problem. That's what ended it. By the time they knew what was happening, it was too late.

"CLINTON!" Sydney shouted, her nails digging into his skin. His eyes widenred as he saw the SUV swerve infront of him. His foot shot out to press the brake, but it hit the wrong pedal and the car accelerated.

Time slowed down as the car sped up, and all he could focus on was the horrified cry of the woman he loved. The car smashed into the SUV. The vehicle he drove was a lot smaller than the one in front of him. It couldn't be helped. The moment couldn't be saved. He felt the impact as his car smashed, another one colliding with the two.

The glass of the windshield smashed and shattered, piercing his ears and tearing at his face. It all happened in a single moment, but it was the only moment that really mattered. It was the difference between life and death.

His head lolled back and that's when he knew that it was truly the end.