Page 80 of Pieces of Us

Hearing this makes me wonder if we’ll ever be able to get past it. I had no idea of the extent I destroyed her. Her entire life was shattered by what I did and how I and others made her feel.

‘I was called a whale, Grimace, Homer Simpson. Just insert an overweight person or character. I was called it. I overheard them call me every fat name under the sun. I overheard that Lincoln had been secretly seeing or texting her our entire relationship. I overheard he never liked me and felt sorry for me, but he didn’t know how to get rid of me. I overheard them say he probably couldn’t find my pussy underneath all my rolls, how he loved having sex with her because he could throw her around. I believed it all. He never once told me loved me. I stabbed myself twice that day, praying the injection would work faster.’

The desperate words fall from her lips as she recounts some of the worst memories of her life. Memories I caused.

My shirt is soaked through from my tears, and I am sweating profusely from hearing my involvement in how I drove her virtually insane. I was a shit person. A shit boyfriend. I don’t deserve her. I never did. No wonder she ran for the hills.

‘Tell me about the specifics of what you did to lose the weight,’ Jas cuts into her rambling thoughts.

‘The week after Lincoln and Billie got together, I barely ate, and if I did, I stuck my fingers down my throat. I pushed them so far down that I felt the squishiness at the back of my throat that enacted my gag reflex, and I didn’t stop until my stomach was empty.’

She says it so matter-of-factly, I could swear this is a robot version of Amity talking. It’s like she has shut down a part of her to get through the past.

‘I was inconsolable, disgusted by myself. I thought that if I changed, I’d prove everyone wrong. Prove myself wrong. I managed to get onto a doctor who clinically diagnosed my BMI as “overweight”. I mean, it’s not hard when you’re my height to be overweight. I begged him to give me the weight loss injections. It didn’t take much begging, actually, and it was quite easy. I started injecting double doses for months on end. A side effect for me was that it felt like my heart was on adrenaline. With all this excess energy, I started working out. But the obsession with exercise and looking like Billie consumed me. I didn’t just work out; I exercised until I collapsed. Actually, your dad was there one time when I did. I overheard my dad and him talking about how Lincoln was giving up on me and developing feelings for her. He said he lost his virginity to her, that he overheard her bragging. A part of me blocked that revelation out until Billie confirmed it with her own mouth a few weeks ago. Dad was under the illusion that I was getting back to my old self. Happy. And getting healthy. I only let him see what I wanted him to see. I hid my addictions well. I hid my depression better. Dad simply thought I was getting a revenge body. I smiled and laughed around him. Did what I had to in order to make him think Lincoln was a thing of the past.’

‘Tell me how you felt, doing your first blog at the fashion show in your lingerie.’

‘Wanted. For the first time in my life, I felt wanted and worthy. The social media comments about how incredible I was became an addiction in itself, a high. The one person who could always make me fly was your brother until he clipped my wings, so to feel that again was nice. It propelled me to chase the feeling.’

‘What about when everyone at school saw your big reveal at the end of year twelve?’

‘Empty.’

‘Why empty?’

‘Because it still wasn’t enough to convince Lincoln that I was his girl. That I was his heart. I thought I’d care about everyone’s jaws dropping, but it made me feel worthless. I was beside myself that I’d based my worth off what your brother and others thought of me.’

‘What happened when you went to Los Angeles?’

‘It got worse.’

‘How much worse?’

‘I was in a fishbowl full of vapid women who were aesthetically perfect. Being surrounded by those people made me compete against them. My eating and weight disorders manifested from my depression. Being so far away from my home, dad and my friends heightened my addictions and compulsions. I was all alone. No one to step in and save me. I tried to run away from my problems, but they followed me. I can’t explain it other than a dark shadow permanently looming over me. The only light in my darkness was my idea of reaching perfection, and that was maintaining the fame I was amassing. I knew the only way to do that was to keep my body. If I stopped all the methods that worked, the weight would come back. In my head, it was better to be skinny and depressed than fat and depressed. My mind was fucked. I know that now. I know how fucking stupid and warped my entire reasoning and rationale was…but I couldn’t escape the thoughts. There were bouts when it got worse, and I wanted to die. I was surrounded by so much fakeness, I didn’t know what to do.’

Jas’ face falls in her hands as Amity explains in detail how her depression intensified to the point of self harm. How alone and isolated she felt. She felt that way because I made her abandon her family. Her support network. I drove her to alienate her life here.

The weight of a hand lands on my shoulder, startling me. Looking left, I can see Dad sitting beside me in his own personal torment. I don’t know how much he’s heard or how long he’s been here, but his sunken eyes tell me that it has been a while. In the midst of my breaking down, so was he. The utter regret on his face tells me he thinks he’s failed as a parent. When he squeezes my shoulder, it’s like he needs me to lean on.

‘We can stop.’ Amity’s soft murmur slices through the thick grief being felt in every corner of our home.

‘No. Tell me all of it.’

‘My career was going from strength to strength. Everyone around me applauded me. Complimented me. But none of them saw me. They didn’t see how much pain I was in. No one saw except Jagger.’

Dad and I both look at each other. He is making sure I’m okay, while my expression is masked with fear.

‘I interviewed his team. Most of the guys were, well, you know, guys, but Jag was different. He was reserved. Nothing like the media portrays him. The entire time I interviewed them, it was like he was really looking at me instead of seeing through me. It wasn’t until later that we met properly at a party. It was one of those seedy parties Hollywood throws for everyone who’s anyone. I was off the rails.’

‘What happened?’ Jas can tell something apocalyptic happened that evening.

‘I can’t remember if Dad told me, or Lily, or Rome, but someone slipped up and broke my No Lincoln rule. Anyway, a few minutes before the party, one of them accidentally told me that they saw Billie looking at wedding dresses.’

My stomach lurches and my legs start shaking. Whatever happened to Amity that night, we were the cause. Our actions. Dad steadies my wobbling knees with his hands, begging me to get my shit together so we can hear the rest of the story. He needs to know the extent of this so he too can deal with it.

‘In that second, I wished the taxi would hit a semi trailer so I could die.’ I can hear the shame in her words.

‘What made you get out of the car?’

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