by Amity Cross
"How did this get from jealousy to...whatever this is?"
"This isn't working. We're not working." I felt bile beginning to rise in the back of my throat.
"What the fuck? Blair, just calm down a little."
"You're telling me you can't see that this whole thing is imploding?" I wanted to slap him as hard as I could. We were drifting apart, not falling in love. The free-fall that had started the moment I said yes to coming on tour had stopped. The cord had snapped and I was flying back to reality. When I landed, it would be with an epic splatter.
"Don't run away, Blair," he snarled. "It's your answer to everything. You knew I had to work, you knew-"
"I didn't know I'd be treated like baggage."
His whole expression fell into disbelief. "Don't walk away, Blair. Please."
I saw the look in his eyes, the one that said he'd die without me, but I couldn't fathom it. "I need-I can't…" I dropped my head into my hands and took a deep breath. The walls felt like they were closing in on me. It was a case of too much too soon.
Before West could catch me, I bolted from the room, running for the stairwell where he wouldn't think to follow straight off the bat. I didn't see him when I finally ventured out into the foyer, but I saw Furlough. His gaze met mine and it gave away that he knew about the argument. I backed away into the stairwell again and sat, leaning my head against the wall. There was nowhere to hide.
The door opened and Furlough appeared as I knew he would. He sat down beside me and I wished the snot rag would just fuck off.
"Maybe a night apart will do you both good," he said gently. "Give you time to cool off."
I didn't know what to say, especially to the man who wanted me gone for good, so I just sat there waiting to take whatever acid he was going to spit out at me.
"He's been fighting for you this entire time," Furlough said, taking me by surprise. "He's gone off his face at reporters for asking about you, he's defended you from backlash from fans and groupies. I'm not saying there's not going to be rough patches, this life is a huge adjustment for anyone, but all I'm saying is give him some slack. He's trying."
"He never told me any of this…" I began, not sure what I was meant to say. "All he's given me are excuses. He's never told me that he's defended me at all."
"And he wouldn't. West's the kind of man who wouldn't tell you what was wrong until it was too late. He thinks he can do everything on his own."
It suddenly dawned on me that that was the reason things had gotten to breaking point for him. He'd never told anyone about his problems, he'd just let them eat away at his soul until he'd downed enough drugs to OD on some random bathroom floor. He wasn't telling me what was eating at him now and it made me wonder if that was the thing I couldn't put my finger on? The thing that wasn't clicking.
"Right now, you both need to cool off. Come at it with clear heads in the morning."
"Do you think so?"
"Problems are always easier to tackle after a good night's sleep. C'mon," he said, standing and brushing off his pants. "I'll get you a room for the night. On me."
Furlough's kindness was unusual, but right then it was the thing I needed. My heart was aching and my spirit was crushed. Alarm bells should've been ringing, but I was on the same page. A good night's sleep and a little peace and quiet…I would talk to West in the morning and we'd work it out. We had to.
My heart constricted painfully as the door slammed behind Blair. All the air was sucked from my lungs and I fell backward onto the bed, my head between my knees. My entire world was imploding.
I was too... I didn't know what I was. Fumbling for my phone, I called Furlough.
"West?" came Furlough's voice. "What do you need?"
"Blair's gone. She just ran out…" I managed to choke out. "We need to look for her."
"Stay there," he said. "I see her." The line went dead and I was numb enough to listen to him for a change.
I should've followed her. I should've made her come back. I should've done a lot of things, but I didn't know what they were. I was beginning to feel like that night back in Florida and I stumbled into the bathroom. Turning on the cold tap, I splashed water over my face, trying to convince myself that this was all a stupid as fuck dream. I was hallucinating. That had to be it.
I knew the truth, I knew I'd just replaced all the drugs and empty sex with Blair, but I didn't want to admit it. I loved her, didn't I? That's what this thing was? I was in love with an addiction.
I heard the door open and I pushed out of the bathroom. When I saw it was Furlough and not my wildcat, I slumped against the wall.
"Fuck, you look like shit," he said.
"Furlough."
"Don't do anything stupid," he said, frowning at me.
"I don't fucking care," I hissed. "Where is she?"
"Gone."
"Gone?" I felt sick. I actually, felt like throwing up.
"Give it a night West. Clear your head."
All I heard was the word gone. I glanced at the mini-bar and thought about downing the contents. I thought about obliterating everything. She'd been gone thirty minutes and I was already coming apart like a pansy-ass pussy. I was more fucked up than I was letting on to myself.
"Do not leave this room, West." Furlough shoved my shoulder to make me take notice. "Don't even think about getting fucked up. Go to bed and we'll attack this from another angle in the morning."
The morning seemed so far away. I nodded to get him off my back and all he did was grimace.
"Call me if you-"
"Okay," I spat, interrupting him. I didn't need to hear the rest of that sentence. I didn't want to. Call me if you feel like using.
The moment Furlough left, I resumed my nervous pacing, trying to work out where it'd gone wrong. It hadn't started out like this. I'd been doing pretty good considering where I'd been. Blair and I, we'd talked and confided in amongst all the mind blowing sex. We'd tried, but had our attraction been enough to save us both? I was beyond saving.
Picking up my phone, I pressed the number I still hadn't cleared from my favorites list.
"West, babe," came Evie's sickly sugar coated voice. I could tell she sounded pleased with herself, that she felt like she'd won some kind of battle, but I didn't fucking care. She had what I wanted.
"Are you still following the tour?"
"Of course. You may not be available but others are."
"Have you got anything?"
"So, Jake West wants to get back on the horse," she said with a tinkling laugh that grated my nerves. "I'm more than happy to take you for a ride."
"Room six-oh-three." I hung up and tossed the phone on the bed.
Not even ten minutes passed when I heard her knock on the door. Alarm bells should have been fucking ringing, considering how expensive this joint was, but the woman who followed us around tended to stay close…just in case.
Letting her in, I didn't even bother saying hello. I just watched her walk past in her little black dress and stripper heels, a red handbag slung over her shoulder. I never used to say anything in the past, either. I'd just let her into whatever room I was staying in, rip her dress off and lick whatever drug we had off her stomach, her tits, her cunt…then we'd fuck ourselves stupid riding the high. This time, I just wanted what was in her bag. She could go fuck someone else.
"What happened to that gorgeous honey drop, Blair, was it?" Evie looked around the room and sauntered over to the closet, picking at Blair's clothes. "I'd really like to have my way with her…and you at the same time. Now, that'd be a party."
"She's gone," I said thinly.
"So, that's why you're so worked up." Dumping her bag on the table, she pulled out a small clear bag of white powder. "What's your poison, babe? Coke? Ice?"
"Anything. Doesn't matter."
Her eyebrows rose, but she sat on the couch and began cutting up lines of coke with a keycard on top of the coffee table. Once she had several ready and waiting, she pulled a bottle of grog out of he
r bottomless purse.
"Got some Jack to wash it all down," she cooed, handing me the bottle of Jack Daniels.
Cracking the seal on the cap, I necked the bottle and handed it to her. "Here's to failure."
"I'd hardly say you've failed." She sucked on the end of the bottle like it was something phallic and once, I would've thrown the bottle aside and pushed her down onto my cock, but the pink lipsticked 'oh' of her mouth looked like poison. Blair never needed to slap makeup on. She was beautiful in all kinds of ways.
"You told me I was a talentless piece of shit."
"Did I?" She winked at me before leaning over the table and snorting a line of coke. She knew she did, but as long as Evie was getting what she wanted, she'd tell me anything.
Pushing her to the side, I sat next to her on the couch. Do or die. Since I wanted a little of both, I leaned over and held one nostril closed and snorted one of the lines she'd cut. Closing my eyes, I fell back onto the couch and waited for the drugs to start working.
"Shit, babe," Evie said, dipping her finger into the residue on the table, "you've got an axe to grind tonight."
Grabbing her hand, I sucked her finger into my mouth, licking the coke off her skin. "I want to forget. It hurts too much."
"Just like old times." She traced the inside of my thigh and let her claws rake over my groin.
Grabbing her hand, I pulled her away before it was too late. "I don't want to fuck you, Evie. I'm using you to get high. I'm using you like all those other times we got off our faces and fucked."
With a snarl, she grabbed my cock, her fingers digging into it through my jeans, and squeezed. "I'm going to have your cock inside me by the end of the night, West. That's a fucking promise."
Pushing her off me, I snatched the bottle of Jack and downed a few mouthfuls. I wasn't nearly obliterated enough. "You said something about ice?"
I let myself float away into the abyss of my drug induced haze, my fingers curling into the tangled sheets of the hotel room bed. It still smelt like my wildcat. It smelt like sex and perfume. Where was she? Why wasn't she here to take the noise away?
I must've pulled off my shirt at some point, because I felt hands against my bare chest, trailing their way down. I imagined Blair and her claws, her sweet lips, her stinging bite and my cock began to twitch.
"Blair?" I muttered, my voice sounding far away.
"No," came a female voice. "It's your sweet Evie, West." Her hand slid down the front of my boxers and she started to caress my cock in long slow strokes. "I told you I'd have your cock in me again. My pussy is so wet for you. Don't you want to fuck it?"
"No." I pushed her hand away, the fog blocking my brain. "I love her, Evie. She made everything go away. She fixed me."
"I can make it all better. I can make it go away. Let me show you." She started pulling my boxers off, trying to strip me naked, but I didn't want her. I could never want her again. Why did I call her? Fuck...what did I take?
I let out a deep groan, my hands swatting at her uselessly as she tried to make me hard.
Fuck. What had I done?
Opening my eyes, I turned over, half expecting to roll right into Dark and Dangerous' arms, but the bed was empty.
I'd woken with a new clarity and for the first fucking time in my stupid, pathetic life, I had the desire to sit down and work this bullshit out like a fucking adult. I knew that today was a rest day for the band and I knew that West would use it to sleep in. After last night, he'd be wallowing. Forgoing a shower, I pulled my clothes back on and picked up my phone, intending to message Furlough about the key. Powering it on, I had to do a double take when half a dozen messages from West popped up on the screen.
Scrolling through them, they were almost indecipherable, like he'd mashed the screen with his thumbs and autocorrect had taken over. I frowned and shoved it in my pocket and made my way upstairs to our room. I was really beginning to worry. He could've just gotten pissed last night, drunk texted and passed out, or he could've relapsed. Furlough knew him best and had said to cut the fucker some slack…but I was beginning to think Affliction's illustrious manager wanted me out of the picture. If that was the case then the slimy little fuck stain would've told me whatever I wanted to hear. Including giving West his space for a night. Would he really gamble West's recovery like that just to get rid of me?
When the elevator opened up on the right floor, I half walked, half jogged down the hallway, a screwed up feeling of dread pooling in my stomach.
The first thing I saw when I walked into the room were the empty bottles of alcohol. Then the little bags on the table, smeared with leftover white powder...all of them empty. Then a woman's voice. She was obviously enjoying herself and this overwhelming anger ripped through me. Turning the corner I almost threw up when I saw West lying on the bed completely naked, some slut sucking on his cock.
A white hot rage simmered beneath my skin and I felt my face heat. Every hurt and every betrayal I'd suffered in my entire life just crashed down on me like a fucking wrecking ball of misery. For a moment I wasn't sure what I was meant to do.
One sign of trouble and he gets high and cheats? All those things he said to me back in Melbourne obviously didn't mean shit. How he wanted me, only me, and that I was his. The worst part was that I believed him.
The only thing I was capable of was flying into a psychotic rage. So, when his hand curled into her hair and he muttered my name, my heart ripped apart. Grabbing an empty bottle of Jack, I hurled it at the wall behind them as hard as I could. It exploded with a loud crack and glass rained down all over the bed. The woman let out a scream, falling backwards onto the floor with a thud. West sat bolt upright, shock plastered on his face and when his eyes met mine, they flickered to the slut on the floor and back again.
"Blair..." he started, but I was across the room throwing clothes at the woman and hauling her off the floor.
She cried out as I slammed her back against the wall, clutching her clothing to her filthy fake tits. Burning with rage, I circled a hand around her throat and snarled, "If I ever see your skeezy slut face again, I'll rip your tits off and sew your loose cunt shut."
She let out a panicked whimper and I didn't know if she was too terrified to answer, but it just added fuel to the burning inferno that was my anger.
"Get the fuck out," I screamed in her face. "What kind of person are you? Fucking poisonous bitch."
I let her go and she scrambled to pull on some clothes, but I was pushing her fake ass toward the exit and she kept stumbling, dropping bits and pieces of her shit along the way. Opening the door, I threw out her shoes and whatever clothes I could put my hands on. Then I shoved her half-naked ass out into the hall and slammed the door closed.
"Blair," West began to plead, but I ignored him, yanking open my suitcase. If I listened, I'd be trapped.
"After everything you just turn your back and fuck the first slut who throws herself at you?"
"Blair, I-"
I saw the tears sliding down his face and I couldn't fucking believe it. "You're crying?" I scoffed. "I can't even-"
I pushed past him and started picking up my clothes, dumping them in my suitcase.
"Blair, please. You can't leave." His pleading was making him come off like a desperate junkie. My jaw tightened as memories flashed through my mind. My Dad used to say the same thing to my Mum after one of his drunken rages. Don't leave, petal. You can't leave. She should have left. I wasn't going to make the same mistakes.
Shoving clothes into my suitcase, I couldn't look at him. I knew I wouldn't like what I saw. "You're standing there naked with an erection a dirty slut gave you. Kill me now West, 'cos I'm not touching that filthy thing again. Not even to rip it off and choke you with it."
"Blair, stop," he pleaded, grabbing my arm. "I love you. Please."
"You love me?" I spat in disbelief, my gaze finally meeting his. "You call this love?" I pointed to the empty bags on the table. "It looks like a cop out to me."
"Ple
ase just stop and listen…" But, I couldn't. I was in full flight mode and it'd be a fucking miracle if I stopped. I wouldn't stop until I was far away from this place.
"I thought we could save each other," I sighed, just utterly defeated. "I thought..." Thought what? That he could love me? Not this thing he thought was love, I wanted the real deal-of course I did. I could fool myself all I wanted, sleep around, treat men the way they'd treated me and push everyone and everything away, but it didn't change the fact that I wanted someone to love the real me. I thought West was the one who could do it. Turned out, it was just about sex after all.
"Blair, please. We can talk about this. Just don't walk away."
"I took a big fucking chance on you," I said, zipping up my case, "and that was everything I could give. I don't have anything else...I'm empty. Don't follow me, West."
I strode towards the door, pulling my suitcase after me. I kicked the door open, overly conscious of West's gaze searing into my back. Without as much as a glance backward, I let the door slam behind me. It was over. Done. Just like that. Every sick, sad part of my life ended with a metaphoric bang, and that door had just delivered the worst one of all. Because now I knew I was irreparable. I was broken forever.
It was a hard truth to swallow, but I now knew that I'd been enabling West all along. Instead of booze, drugs and groupies, it'd been me he was addicted to. I hated the fact that it took this to make me realize it. One sign of trouble and he'd fallen straight back into old habits and in a way it'd been my fault, too.
There was only one thing I could do and that was to leave. I'd destroy his life as well as mine if I stuck around. We were broken enough.
I pulled out my phone and called Furlough. When he answered, I didn't give him a chance to speak, I just snapped, "Lobby. Now."
When the elevator doors slid open and I strode out, rolling my suitcase behind me, Furlough's gaze fixed on me, then dropped to my bag.
"What's-" he started, but I shoved him backwards.
"I think this conversation needs to happen in private."