by M. L. Young
The sad part was that I knew I was becoming addicted again, at least when I was sober, or at least when I wasn’t as high or drunk as other times during the day. I tried to fight the urge, to numb it down and go cold turkey, but I felt the vice-like grip of addiction coming over me and I knew I couldn’t talk to anybody about it.
I wasn’t going to ruin the tour, the label, and the future of the band because of something that seemed so trivial. I could control it, and maybe when we were done I’d get help. I’d pushed the boundaries a few times, sure, and hit a point that I probably shouldn’t have woken up okay from, but the product I bought just didn’t finish the job, which also gave me a cocky boost of self-esteem, as if I would be fine no matter what. I could handle my booze, I could handle my drugs, and I could handle working and functioning while on them.
I thought Paul and Percy were becoming a little concerned, maybe even suspicious, but I did what I needed to fly under the radar. I only went out at night, late at night, when I knew everybody was asleep. I convinced them I didn’t need security, which I knew would be both a blessing and a curse. I’d have somebody to keep me from leaving, to keep me from getting the drugs and sober me up, but that itch needed to be scratched, and that meant I wouldn’t be able to get my hands on anything. I would go crazy in my room.
That night, under the cover of darkness, I fled my hotel room, my hood up and my identity as obscured as possible. I even dressed a little different than normal. I’d heard of a good dealer out here, one others had spoken highly of, and they said this guy had the best rates and business.
I found the address through my phone. The music inside was pounding, seeping through the cracks of the doors and bricks. There was a bouncer standing outside, nodding to me as if he knew who I was and why I was there. “Go inside and ask for Tony,” he said before opening the door.
I nodded, not speaking, before I entered the door and walked through a maze of smoke and laser lights. It was a club. There were people dancing down below, light wisps of smoke traipsing along the dance floor as scantily-clad girls with pasties on their nipples and shimmering thongs walked the floor with drinks. Where the hell was I?
“Who are you here to see?” a man asked.
“Tony,” I replied, talking deeper than normal to disguise myself.
“Right this way,” he said, leading me off to another area up some stairs.
He nodded to two more bouncers at the top, who I saw were carrying on their hips. A man sat in a chair, his legs crossed and hands in his lap, as he watched over the club from high above like a falcon studying and watching his prey. “Sir, somebody is here to see you,” said the man who escorted me.
“Mr. Jackson, I heard you were coming from our mutual associate back in London,” he said, not turning to look at me.
“I was told you were the best man in Amsterdam for certain products,” I said.
“I have what you need, no doubt about it. How much are you looking for?” he asked.
“Three grams,” I said, causing him to turn his head and look at me.
“Quite a lot, don’t you think?” he asked.
“Do you have it or not?” I asked impatiently, my urges starting to get the better of me.
“I told you I have what you need, did I not?” he asked.
“How much will it be?” I asked.
“Well, for you, such a distinguished and wealthy client, I will cut you a deal. If you stay and do some here with me, I can do three grams for three hundred American dollars,” he said.
“That’s dirt cheap,” I said, realizing that Smithy had scammed me to hell and back.
“If you take it to go, though, the price triples,” he said.
I only had six hundred in my pocket, and I wasn’t about to tell him that. The place seemed legit; the club was nice and obviously popular, not like the damp, musty place Smithy was operating out of. “I’ll take the first deal,” I said, knowing that I had to do some here if I were to get out with what I wanted.
“Go get the supply,” he said to another man, who darted off.
There was silence between us. I knew I had to try to do as little as possible to make sure I could function on my way back to the hotel. The run-in with Percy in the elevator that first night was too close of a call, and they’d know I was using again this time. I couldn’t get off that luckily again.
A man came out with a silver platter, the lines already drawn, with my baggies on the side. “Come,” Tony said, motioning for me.
“There are four lines here,” I said.
“Good, you can count. Guess your brain isn’t fried yet,” he said sarcastically.
“I don’t do that much,” I said.
“You’ll do two lines and I’ll do two lines,” he said.
“But that’s—”
“You’ll do two lines with me if you want to walk out of here with that deal, Mr. Jackson,” he said sternly.
Seeing the men with guns around me, I obliged, realizing that I wasn’t getting out of here without doing this. He went first, snorting the coke like it was air while I watched. He sniffled, licking his fingers and wiping his nostrils clear of any remaining residue. “Your turn,” he said, pointing towards the platter.
The first line was easy, my high instantly fulfilled the millisecond I took it. I felt euphoric and happy, like an itch in the middle of my back had finally been scratched and I was fully relieved. With Tony watching, I used my other nostril to take the other line, praying beforehand that it wouldn’t mess me up too hard. I felt a jolt. I’d never taken this much at one time, and I kind of liked the way it felt. I felt relaxed at first, my fears and problems melting away, before things began to get a little blurry and the sweats started.
“This is strong,” I said, wiping my brow.
“Only the finest quality for clients such as yourself, Mr. Jackson,” he said, sitting back in his chair as if nothing had happened and we hadn’t just both taken two lines.
I tried standing up and the dizziness set in. The lights, no matter how sparse, started to spin like all the blood had rushed to my head. Tony said I should sit down and take a load off while the effects were still fully active. I nodded, barely, and shot back down, my forearms against my knees, trying to gain my composure. Why was this so strong? Why did I kind of like it?
Why could I only think of Bianca, her image burnt into my head, as I felt an entire range of emotions and feelings? What would she think of all of this? Was I disappointing her? Was I going to lose her? Those thoughts only motivated me more—not to quit, but to continue. I wasn’t good enough for her, she deserved somebody better than me, somebody who wasn’t a good-for-nothing addict.
As I sat back, taking a sip of water from a crystal glass they gave me, I felt my heart rate quicken and my pits becoming misty. God, this was a lot.
Chapter Seventeen
Bianca
“Do you have a minute? It’s important,” Percy said, waking me up at two in the morning.
“Yeah, sure,” I mumbled, trying to wake myself up, the piercing light of my lamp blinding me.
“It’s Kai, we have a problem, I think,” he said.
“What?” I asked, perking up.
“Well, he just hasn’t been himself. I think something is wrong with him, but I can’t put my finger on it just yet. I was wondering if you could come,” he said.
“I just don’t know. I have so much going on here, and work, school, and the end of the semester is coming soon,” I said.
“I just think he needs you, is all. He’s in rough shape. I know he’s been talking about you, and he hasn’t been himself. I know you have stuff going on, and school is very important, especially your schooling, but even a couple days would do so much for him. The label will pay for it, and we could fly you out immediately,” he said.
“Ugh,” I moaned, rubbing my eyes, looking at my calendar on the wall.
The idea of going was nice, in a sense—seeing him and getting to be with him, but it was the
absolute worst time. I’d been planning to come out later, not now, and I knew my professors wouldn’t be as welcoming this time, unless I used that family excuse again. I guess it would be plausible a family member would be very sick or close to death.
“Okay, I’ll come. When?” I asked.
“Could you leave in a few hours? It’s going to take a while to get here. We can book right away,” he said.
“Yeah, just send me the details. I’ll e-mail my professors now,” I said.
“Great, speak to you soon,” Percy said.
I took out my laptop, sending an e-mail to every professor I had, telling them my grandfather was on his death bed and my family was flying me out right away. I said I could make any work up and that I knew I couldn’t afford to miss class, but I couldn’t leave him without saying goodbye. It was obviously a total lie, but I knew my real reason wouldn’t be good enough.
I sent off the e-mails and packed a small bag before writing a note for Regan that I was leaving. I told her to text me when she got it. Percy messaged me and told me the flight left in a few hours. I told him okay and finished packing, then called an Uber and went outside to leave for the airport.
I was tired, exhausted, really, and I couldn’t believe that I was heading to get on a plane to fly to Paris. What was supposed to be an exciting trip sometime later in life had turned into a whirlwind trip that I wasn’t even crazily excited for. Maybe it was just because I was beat. That was probably why.
I’d been booked in business class, which wasn’t quite first but was still way better than coach. When I boarded the plane I had my own little pod of a seat so I wasn’t next to anybody. I felt my eyes already starting to close after buckling my seatbelt. I drifted in and out, my head falling forward jolting me awake every time, before the plane shot forward and soared into the still dark sky. God, I hoped he was okay.
•••
After a long layover in New York, which I didn’t know about at first and couldn’t leave the airport during, I landed in Paris, exhausted from the flights. I texted Regan, letting her know I’d landed and was safe, and she told me to keep in touch and let her know what was going on.
Percy had hired a driver to pick me up and escort me to the hotel. The gentleman stowed away my luggage and opened the door for me, which was a nice touch.
I took in the sights, the Parisian streets lit up by streetlamps as we drove by places that had been built centuries ago. I saw the Eiffel Tower shining in the distance, its iconic shape familiar to me as I had a poster of it on my wall back home when I was a little girl. I had fantasized about it, about being here, and now I was. I just hoped it was all that I’d ever hoped it would be.
We pulled up to the Ritz, a familiar sight even though it was in another city, and a bellhop who stood outside took my luggage for me. “Good evening, and welcome to Paris. I trust you had a comfortable journey here,” he said.
“Yes, I did, thank you,” I said, lying through my teeth.
I guess it wasn’t my place to spill my guts to a bellhop, and I only wanted to see Kai anyway. I walked inside. Percy was standing there waiting, looking a little frantic and upset as he paced around. “What’s wrong?” I asked.
“It’s Kai, he left,” he said, biting his finger, his arms crossed.
“Did you tell him I was coming?” I asked, confused.
“Yeah, right before he left. In fact, he looked angry after I told him the surprise and he grabbed his coat before running off,” he said.
“Oh,” I said. My heart felt like it was shattering into a million pieces.
Why would he run off when he found out I was coming? I thought he wanted to see me, to hug me, to kiss me, to just be with me. It hurt. I felt like I’d traveled all this way for a guy who didn’t even want to be around me. Should I just turn around now and go home?
“But don’t worry, I have tracking on him,” he said.
“Wait, what? Does he know?” I asked.
“No, of course not, that would defeat the purpose. He’s been running off so much lately, and the label and the guys have been getting antsy because he’s missed a couple practices and has been late to the rest. We figured we’d keep an eye on him, just in case something happens to him. We’re not home, you know. It’s not as easy when you’re not in the States,” he said.
“Well, where is he then?” I asked.
“Here, let me check,” he said, pulling out his phone. He opened a Find Friends app on his iPhone, clicking on Kai’s picture. The app found him relatively quickly, showing he was about twenty minutes away. He was off the street, the satellite view showing a building, though we didn’t know what it was.
“Give me the address,” I said, grabbing a pad and pen.
“You can’t go there!” Percy exclaimed.
“Watch me. I dragged my ass all the way here, and I’m going to see him. I don’t care where he’s at,” I said.
“But—”
“Write it down,” I said sternly as I glared at him. Percy grabbed the pen and quickly jotted down the area and address.
“Be careful. Do you want me to go with?” he asked.
“No, I need to do this myself,” I said, my anger starting to get the better of me.
“I’m here anytime if you need me,” he said before I walked out the door.
The doorman hailed me a cab. I didn’t even speak to the man and just handed him the paper with the address on it. “Are you sure, miss? That’s bad area,” he said.
“I’m sure,” I said, and he shrugged and started to drive.
I sat in the back, peering out the window, my blood boiling, but a serious sense of nervousness was ever-present in my gut. I tried not to think about it so much. I looked at my phone, but there were no messages. Kai hadn’t replied to any of them. I tried to think of what he’d be doing in a bad part of town. The cabbie likely didn’t even want to drive me there, the fare probably wasn’t worth it to him, but I had to find out. I knew Kai wouldn’t tell me the truth when and if he finally dragged his ass back to the hotel, and seeing what he was doing with my own eyes might help me figure out the truth.
After about twenty minutes he pulled over to the curb, telling me this was the building. “How much to stay here for fifteen minutes?” I asked.
“Another twenty euros,” he said.
“Would you take American dollars?” I asked.
“Yes,” he said.
I took my wallet out and handed him a twenty before getting out and walking up to the door. It was seedy, barely anybody was on the street, except for a man on the sidewalk down the road. I heard the locks in the car go down before I pushed open the door and walked inside.
The hallway was damp and dark, and I could hear the sounds of music upstairs before I walked up the creaking steps. I was nervous, seriously scared that something was wrong with Kai. When I stepped upstairs a man stopped me. “What are you doing here? How did you find this place?”
“I’m here to pick up somebody. Maybe you know him,” I said.
I showed him a picture on my phone and he nodded, pointing to the third door on the left. He didn’t try to stop me any longer, as if he knew not to for some reason. I walked past him to the door, the old brass door handle chipped and faded from years of use. I took a deep breath, filling my lungs with moldy air, before opening the door.
I froze.
Tears started to stream down my face as I felt a wave of emotions crash over me. Kai was here, it was definitely him. A woman was going down on him as he sat in the chair. She started to yell at me in French, but I couldn’t even hear her. All I saw was him, looking barely conscious, powder on his nose, his body drenched in sweat and dirt, with a bottle on the ground next to him.
He looked forward, barely moving his head, his eyes locking with mine, though I could barely see him from the tears. “B,” he said, barely uttering it.
He stayed in his position, hardly able to move. The girl pushed past me and walked away. How could he? How could he cheat
on me like this, in this place of all places? Not only that, but he was using again? It all made so much sense, the distance, him leaving the hotel, barely even talking to me, and so much more. I hated him, looking at him with both care and disgust, as I tried to make sense of it.
I left the room, walking towards the stairs, before putting my hand on the railing and stopping. I looked back at the still open door, knowing he was out of his mind inside, and I knew I couldn’t leave him in this place. What if he died? He could barely move. I called 112, the French equivalent of 911, and told them about the situation. An ambulance came within five minutes, and I directed them upstairs to Kai, who was still barely moving. They put him on a gurney and toted him out. I got back into my cab and called Percy.
“Did you find him?” he asked.
“They’re taking him to the hospital, you can meet him there,” I said.
“What? What happened?”
“He’s been using again. I found him with a cheap hooker. I’m going to go and pack my bags. Please call and change my flight to now,” I said.
“Wait, what about—”
I hung up the phone, not wanting to hear from him right now. I just wanted to go home. Paris was tainted for me in the worst way, and that was just small potatoes. My relationship, the best one I’d ever had, was over, and I couldn’t believe this was my life now. Every guy I’d been with cheated on me, so why should this be any different? I was just a failure with dating.
I got back to the hotel. Instead of being at the hospital, Percy was waiting for me in the lobby. “Please reconsider,” he pleaded.
“There’s nothing to reconsider, Percy,” I said, before asking for and receiving a key card to my room.
“He needs you now more than ever. He didn’t know what he was doing, and you know that. All he ever does is talk about you and how much he cares about you and wants to be with you. He’s sick,” he said.
“Yeah, sick with herpes now, probably,” I said, getting into the elevator.