Life of the Party

by Christine Anderson

  The biggest challenge yet was going to be just getting out of our bed. I didn’t want to leave the room; I didn’t really want to face the world. But Grey insisted it would be good for me to get up and out of the house. I think he was worried. Because of the heroin. We hadn’t just slipped from the precipice of control, we’d jumped headfirst off of it, and now we had to try and regain some measure of the life we’d left behind on the cliff.

  But I didn’t know if I could. I didn’t really want to. I could’ve spent the rest of my life with Grey in our room, his arms wrapped around me, drugs in our systems, staring out the big picture window at the twinkling stars, the bright face of the moon peeking out over the soft silver clouds. Just like we’d done on so many nights. Happy. Together.

  He smirked at the play of sadness on my face as I watched him get ready to go. How rapidly this man had become my whole entire life. Even an afternoon without him was like total agony. If I could’ve felt sad at that moment, I would’ve.

  “It’s only for the afternoon, Mackenzie. I’ll see you tonight, at the club.” He chided.

  “I know you will. But I miss you already.” I pouted. “I love you, you know.”

  Grey laughed at my dramatics. “I love you too.” It was easy for him to say now, but I never tired of hearing it. I gave him a glorious smile as he bent to kiss me goodbye, taking advantage of his nearness and grasping his hands to pull him closer yet.

  “Will you play my song tonight?” I wondered in his ear.

  “Hmmm … maybe. It’s not exactly to the tune of Auld Lang Synge though, is it?”

  I giggled. “I guess not. I just want everyone to know.”

  “Know what?” His blue eyes shone at me.

  “That I’m yours.”

  “Mackenzie,” he smirked, “that’s never been a question.”

  And though he left me then, he left me on a good note. My lips were still tingling from his kisses as I fell back onto our bed with a sigh, dreading the long hours until we would be together again. I hated when Grey was gone, I hated being alone. I sat on our bed, tracing a finger down the red scabby lines that crossed my arm, lines I’d somehow managed to hide from him. I knew I shouldn’t push off; I knew I had to be sober enough to concentrate on work in only a few hours. But I just couldn’t handle the quiet. When the heroin began to fade, when there was no one else around, the thoughts began to seep in. Thoughts of sorrow and despair. Of utter hopelessness.

  Thoughts I couldn’t handle.

  I cooked myself up a batch and shot it quickly. I was a pro by now; the needle didn’t bother me at all. I still let Grey do it for me most of the time, but that was mostly because he liked to do it for me. He wanted to be the one to give me pleasure, of any kind. And I didn’t mind that a bit.

  I was still lying back against the bed, slack and motionless, when my cell phone started to ring. I stared at it a moment, debating, until it fell silent. Time passed. My cell phone rang again, and this time when it did, I sighed and rolled over to answer it.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey bitch! Where the hell are you?” Charlie giggled over the phone.

  “Huh? What do you mean?”

  “You’re supposed to come over today, remember? To get ready for tonight.”

  “Oh, yeah. Shit.” I sat up. “What time is it?”

  “Like four. Grab your stuff and get over here.”

  “I like, just woke up.” I lied. “I haven’t showered or anything.”

  “Do it over here. Come on, Mac. I’ve got your uniform for tonight. It’s sexy.”

  “Is it?” I bit my lip. I didn’t want to face reality, not yet.

  “Mac!”

  “Okay, okay, I’ll be right over.”

  “Hurry up!” She was laughing again as she hung up the phone. I groaned and flipped my cell shut. I forced myself off the bed, stumbling around my room and gathering some things—my heels, my bra, some undies, some jewellery. I shoved it all into my purse and then threw on some jeans, a t-shirt, my skate shoes and my old winter jacket. I didn’t even look at myself in the mirror. Grabbing my car keys from the counter, I headed out of the house for the first time in a week.

  I was totally unprepared for the cold. Somehow I had forgotten about winter. It hit me with all its force, the brunt of the icy wind shuddering down my back and stiffening my muscles. I cringed my head down into the collar of my jacket and headed blindly into the snow, climbing into my frozen car for the first time since … since Christmas. I tried not to think about that, shivering as I turned the key. To my utter amazement, the car chugged to life. I smiled at my good fortune and pulled into the icy streets, the engine whining in protest.

  The vents were still blowing cold by the time I got to Charlie’s house. I ran up the old familiar stairs, even more treacherous now that they were covered in snow and ice, and headed into the house without even bothering to knock.

  Charlie and Courtney were sitting at the counter. Their heads turned in surprise as I burst into the room, letting a draft of cold, frozen air in with me. They stared at me as I took my shoes off.

  “What?” I wondered.

  “Fuck Mac,” Charlie raised her eyebrows. “You look like shit.”

  “Yeah dude.” Courtney agreed with surprise.

  “I told you, I just woke up.” I took off my coat and shuddered from the cold. “I haven’t had a chance to do anything with myself yet.”

  “Right.” Charlie was sceptical, I could tell. The smile fell from her face. “Well, go get a shower then. It looks like I have my work cut out for me tonight.”

  I made a face at her and breezed past them down the hallway. They were oddly silent, watching me walk by. I didn’t like their scrutiny, so I hurried into the bathroom as quickly as I could and shut the door.

  Evidence of my replacement was all around me. I took it all in as I caught my breath. It hurt a little to see Courtney’s blow dryer on the sink, her toothbrush in the holder, her towels hanging up on the hook. The two of them were giggling now; I could hear them from the kitchen. I wondered fleetingly if they were laughing at me. I tried to ignore their happy laughter, avoiding the bathroom mirror—which was a natural instinct now, something I automatically shunned away from. My reflection was just another grim reminder of what I’d let myself become.

  I stepped into the shower, letting the hot spray sink into my skin. Charlie’s razor was balancing haphazardly on the ledge, and without thinking, I picked it up. As I gripped the handle, I remembered the sweet pain that came when I cut myself. The relief that came with actually feeling something again. Slowly, I dragged the razor sideways across my arm, shutting my eyes and shuddering as the blade ripped through my skin. Mmmm … the blood ran down my hand, and I smiled with delight.

  “Mac, lets go! We don’t have a lot of time!” Charlie called, knocking on the door. Then under her breath, more for Courtney than for me to hear, she muttered, “Not with the way you look, anyway.”

  I shut the water off immediately.

  Charlie sat me down in a chair in the kitchen when I was ready, dragging up her seat before me so she could get to work on my face. Courtney sat on a stool at the island snorting cocaine. Black Eyed Peas was blaring out of the stereo. I noticed all of this out of my periphery. It held no interest to me anymore. I just sat, glum and despondent, as Charlie got to work.

  “So, Mac,” she sighed. “Tell me not to be worried about you.” Her blue eyes held mine locked in her gaze, and the concern she felt was evident. She motioned her head to the cuts on my arm, some older and scabby, one obviously freshly done. It was still bleeding faintly. “What’s going on with you, huh?”

  “Nothing.” I shrugged. “I’m fine.”

  “Yeah. I bet. You don’t look fine.”

  “It’s nothing. I haven’t been getting a lot of sleep lately.” I lied.

  She made a noise at that, a scoff of disbelief. “You can talk to me, you know.”

  “I know.” I replied. I just wasn’t going to.
<
br />   Charlie shook her head in obvious frustration, but she didn’t press me. We sat in silence. It felt nice actually—the coolness of her fingers as she applied my make-up, the deftness of her hands as she worked with my hair. It kind of reminded me of old times. When I had actually cared about my appearance.

  “There. All done.” She proclaimed finally. “We should get dressed. We’re supposed to get there early to get ready and stuff.”

  I nodded woodenly. The three of us went into Charlie’s room, where she handed out our special uniforms for the night. They were actually kind of cool. They were made to resemble a man’s tuxedo, with short dark skirts and white sleeveless blouses with ruffles down the front. A cute little bow tie went around the neck. Charlie and Courtney giggled as they got ready, talking about guys I didn’t know, how hot they were, hoping they’d be there. I went through the motions of having fun, but I wasn’t there in spirit. I needed to get high, but I knew I couldn’t. Not when I had to work.

  “Woooh! We look hot!” Charlie exclaimed with her usual exuberance. She and Courtney were standing before the floor-length mirror, their arms around each other. “Come on Mac, aren’t you going to look?”

  I bit my lip in hesitation before joining them. I wanted so badly to be able to enjoy what they were enjoying, to laugh with them, to be light-hearted. I stood awkwardly beside Charlie, who grasped me around the waist, and then looked into the mirror.

  I didn’t look as bad as I thought I might. Charlie was truly the worker of miracles. Where before my cheeks had been sallow, they now held the soft bloom of pink blush. My eyes were too big, overwhelming my skinny face, but they were lined with dark and silver, metallic and smoky. My lips were as deep red as Courtney’s always were. My hair was up in a ponytail, curly and voluminous, but it seemed to have lost its shine.

  I may have looked okay, but I was still barely recognizable. I gazed down at my arms instead. “But what about these?” I choked out. Neither of the other girls had deep red marks and cuts on their arms. For some reason, this made me want to cry.

  “Don’t worry about that, Mac.” Charlie soothed. “I’ve got just the thing.” She rummaged around in her room for a moment, producing a pair of white cuff bracelets that seemed to be made just for this occasion. She put the bracelets around my forearms. They managed to hide the majority of the marks on my arms. When she was done, she squeezed my hands and looked deep into my eyes.

  “It’s going to be okay, Mac.” She promised me with a hopeful smile. “Just relax.”

  I nodded dumbly. Courtney got out some more cocaine and made some rails for us. I took mine without feeling, like I was a robot on automatic pilot or something. But it helped. It gave me some energy, some gusto. It made me think that maybe Charlie was right. Maybe everything would be okay. A slight smile graced my lips.

  And then it was gone.

  CHAPTER 57

  I relied heavily on cocaine for the rest of the night, to keep me going. It was amazingly easy to just bend down behind the counter and sniff some back without anyone noticing. The place was packed almost instantly, full of rowdy people. Everyone was there for a good time. It was New Years Eve. Champagne was flowing. Every now and then I’d look out at the sea people in their bright party hats, laughing and dancing like they didn’t have a care in the world, and I’d imagine I was them. Before things had gotten so out of control, I was one of them. There for a good time. Careless. Happy.

  Grey would come to visit me at the bar when the band wasn’t playing. They had five different sets planned that they were dispersing throughout the evening. The only time I’d smile, like really smile, was when he was with me.

  “Do you get to bring that uniform home?” He wondered clandestinely, leaning over the bar to speak the words so I’d hear him over the deafening crowd.

  “I think that could be arranged.” I promised slyly. I couldn’t believe he still found me beautiful. I knew what I looked like. Did he actually even see me anymore? Couldn’t he see what I’d become?

  “Mmm ….” His blue eyes were wicked as they looked me over. “How much longer will this stupid party go for?”

  “At least midnight,” I giggled. It was so easy with him, to be happy. Even despite everything else. “I think that’s the tradition, anyway.”

  “Right.” He grinned.

  “Will you come find me at midnight? So I can kiss you?”

  “Like I’d ever be able to turn that down.” He smirked. But apparently he couldn’t wait until midnight. He set his drink down and kissed me before he left to start another set. I smiled at his handsome face.

  Even his voice helped. I could hear him singing as I worked, hear his glorious, velvet voice rasping away over the speakers, and it buoyed my spirits. I did some more cocaine, and I almost felt jovial, letting the happy little trembles erase the feeling of despair that nagged at me. And when the set ended, going out on a high note of wailing guitars and screaming fans, my spirits rose even further. Grey would be with me again soon. A wide smile spread across my face. Charlie noticed as she came into the bar, her beautiful face light and happy, her blue eyes sparkling. She grabbed my hands and spun me around in a little dance. Our patrons cheered for us, and I was actually giggling when she finally let me go.

  I stopped twirling right before his face.

  “Mackenzie.” Riley was the only one in the entire crowd completely serious. I stopped short, surprised to find him there. He looked … had he always been this good looking? His dark hair was buzzed short; his face—so wonderfully familiar—looked older, wiser almost. He had filled out too, no longer was he lean and lank. He looked … he looked like a man. I cleared my throat.

  “Hello, sir.” I tried to play it casual. “What can I get you? On the house.”

  But Riley didn’t answer me. He just stared. He stared and stared. His warm chocolate eyes didn’t leave my face for a second. It made me uncomfortable; I wanted to cringe away from his gaze, because I knew that Riley would see too much. Didn’t he always? Didn’t he always just … know, somehow?

  The club was full of people, but suddenly there was only me and him. And all he did was stare. His expression revealed nothing, I couldn’t tell what was going through his mind, what he was thinking.

  But then Grey strode up.

  He was smirking as he pushed through the people to come and meet me. I looked away from Riley and watched him come, my dark eyes wide, anxious. Finally, finally Riley tore his gaze from me, turning them instead to glower at the man who was slowly coming to join us.

  “Riley ….” I warned. But it was too late.

  If before Riley had been a locked box, now he was an open book. His brow furrowed with anger, his eyes glared with fury, his entire body tensed as Grey slowly sauntered over. He noticed Riley, its impossible not to notice when someone’s uttering death threats with their eyes, but it didn’t seem to bother him. He just came up and smiled at me, his blue eyes confident, casual. Only then did he turn to him.

  “Hey man, how’s it going—?”

  “What have you done to her?” Riley interrupted him, his voice low, controlled.

  “What?” Grey looked honestly confused.

  “What have you done to her?” Riley bellowed, loud enough that the people surrounding them noticed. They began to spread out, to give them room, the tension in the crowd turning to excitement as they began to anticipate a fight.

  “What are you talking about?” Grey glanced at me once and then back to Riley, like he really didn’t get it. I bit my lip. I wanted Riley to stop. I needed Riley to stop. For whatever reason, Grey still found me beautiful. I didn’t want him to see me … I didn’t want him to look at me differently ….

  “Stop it Riley!” I demanded. I was powerless behind the bar; they were too far out of my reach. Panicked, I pushed through my co-workers and then burst out onto the floor. “Stop it!”

  Riley grasped me by the wrist and hauled me over. It hurt; he was grabbing the exact place I had cut myself earlier. I
winced.

  “Get your hands off of her!” Grey warned. I’d never heard him sound so … threatening. I looked up into his face, his handsome features hard and deadly serious, and felt actual fear for Riley. I tried to pull my hand free from his vice-like grip.

  “Stop it Riley! Please!” I pleaded.

  Grey’s jaw clenched. “I mean it, asshole. Let her go.”

  “Look at her!” Riley shouted again. It all happened quickly then. Grey lunged for Riley, at the same time pulling me free of his grasp. But Riley’s hand had been so tightly clenched around my wrist that he tore the white bracelet from my arm. Before the ripped shreds had a chance to hit the floor, the fight had come to a standstill.

  “Mackenzie?” Grey paused in horror. He saw. He was looking at my arm, at the jagged marks the razor had made when it sliced through my skin. His blue eyes narrowed with confusion, with denial, with sorrow. “… What … what happened …?”

  Tears swam in my eyes. I choked them back. I could have killed Riley at that moment, but instead I turned my back on him. I needed Grey to hear me. I needed him to understand.

  “Grey … look, its nothing. It’s okay.” I insisted. I couldn’t tell if he could hear me or not, it seemed like he was in shock. His blue eyes stared at nothing. His mouth was open with dread, as if he were struggling to process it all. And then it happened.

  His jaw tensed, and he looked at me. His eyes traced over me, from my head to my toes, and they filled with anguish. With the worst kind of suffering. He took in the gaunt fragility of my shoulder blades, the boniness of my face, the scrawny legs sticking out from my skirt. At the cuts on my arms, the tracks in my elbows. He looked at me with horror. It hurt to see. The gorgeous blue eyes that before had only gazed at me full of adoration, now were wide as the stared at me with total dismay.