by V. F. Mason
He’d grown quite big over the years with football practices, and knew how to use those muscles.
Nick punched him in the face and stomach, knocking him to the floor and causing the old man to moan and groan in pain. “I told you to never fucking touch her, you fucking piece of shit!” He grabbed the belt that Dad had been beating me with, and started hitting the old man with all his might. “You fucking want punishment? Then fucking get it!” I knew he would hate himself if he did any permanent damage to him, so I ran to stop him. The look in his eyes scared me.
“Nicky, please stop.” But he didn’t listen and it made me cry even harder. “Please stop, I can’t lose you!” If he killed him, they would take him away from me.
He finally stopped, breathing hard, and let go of the belt. He turned to me and hugged me tight, as I cried into his shoulder.
“I’m sorry, baby girl. I’m so sorry for not being here sooner.” I hugged him closer but winced in pain. He noticed it and his expression, which had gone soft, became harsh again. “We need to check your injuries.” We heard the door open and Mom entered the kitchen, holding more booze in her hand, and looked at us with her mouth open.
“Clean up the fucking mess, Meredith, and if any of you touch me or her again, you fuckers will wish you were dead. Am I clear?” Nicky emphasized each of his words to Mom, and she finally nodded, but there was fear in her eyes as she quickly went down to help her husband.
It would always be like this for her. She put Dad above everything---above us and herself. I remember there were pictures of them when they were young. She was a beautiful woman with hopes and dreams, but gave them all up because she fell in love with the wrong guy. She was afraid to lose him, and if that didn’t make her pathetic, I didn’t know what did.
Was this the love that people talked so much about? Who would want it? It ruined you completely and you lost your sense of identity.
I never wanted to fall in love. I never wanted to become like my mom.
And I didn’t want kids, either. What kind of parent would I be to my child if I had this example to go by?
“Don’t worry, baby girl. No one will ever hurt you like that again. I’ll always be there.” And I believed him, because Nick would never willingly leave me or bring pain to me.
I just hoped the social services wouldn’t hear about it, because the foster care system could separate us permanently, and this fear was way stronger than the painful belt.
He would be the only man in my life whom I would love and trust. There was no place for anyone else.
Annabella
My palms were getting sweaty, and I tried to rub them off on my sweats. I wished I had the sanitizer I always used on tours, but there was no such thing here.
I was about to head to my first appointment with Dr. Drake, and the idea didn’t exactly make me feel peachy. I was scared of his questions, but most importantly, I didn’t want to answer them. I had never needed a shrink before, or at least no one provided me with one. But based on movies and books, they loved to ask uncomfortable shit and made their clients nervous, and I didn’t like that one bit.
It had been a week since I was let off the hook, so to speak. I could wander around, and I took long walks and enjoyed the fresh air. I fed the horses sometimes and liked to pet them. They had this calming presence about them that helped me think. Or escape from my thoughts.
Depending on which one I preferred.
Mostly, I spent time with Marie, who always had some good stories to tell. I got check-ups by Rose and the doctors, and had some time to read books. Nate only allowed me to use a Kindle, so I caught up on my “to be read” list.
Mobile phones and laptops were out of the question.
The ranch folks were nice, and I was familiar with some of them, as we sometimes shared lunch and dinner with each other, though I still had “special” food made just for me. It wasn’t exactly my thing, but if I ever wanted to play music again and get out of the mess I’d created, I had to start getting healthy.
I tried to play the guitar, but my hands were too shaky, and I still couldn’t force myself to sing anything. I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to anymore.
My voice was hoarse and it would be hard for me to pull off the high notes like I used to.
I still woke up from vivid dreams of Nicky, all sweaty, and sometimes imagined drugs would take me away from all this, but knew it was not the solution and hated myself for even thinking about it again. I had no contact with the outside world, and I thought it was for the best. I wasn’t ready to deal with my friends, Jeremy, or the press.
Nate being my sobriety coach wasn’t exactly the highlight of my day either. That man bothered me. He made me see him, and that was dangerous. Not to mention the feeling I always had around him, like I used to know him. The thought was always nagging inside my head, and I didn’t know what to do with it.
I had no idea what was going on with him and Rose. They were quite cozy the last time I’d seen them together in the study. She wasn’t here all the time, but came twice a week to check on me, and I really disliked the girl.
I didn’t like the way she looked at him and, jeez, where was my head? Why did I even care?
I wasn’t ready for anything like that in my life.
I didn’t feel ready to face Dr. Drake, either, but here I had no fucking choice.
I was waiting in one of the study rooms. He was invited to come here, and Nate thought it was the best place to do it.
It was quite homey with two massive windows that bathed it in sunlight, a desk, sofa, and chair. There was a sense of calm within the room that eased my mind.
The door opened and a man in his twenties—tall, lean, dirty-blond hair, and mysterious blue eyes behind black glasses—looked at me and smiled. He was good-looking in this sophisticated kind of way. He had an aura of peace and tranquility around him.
“Annabella, right? My name is Drake.” He shook my hand, and I tried to smile, but he probably sensed my uneasiness.
He sat down across from me on the chair and grabbed his notepad while looking directly into my eyes. This whole thing was making me uncomfortable, so without thinking, I blurted out, “I don’t like it.” There was amusement in his eyes, and he didn’t seem to be that surprised with my words. He just nodded.
Maybe none of his clients liked this shit.
“I can see that. Let’s start?” Now it was my turn to nod, and I dreaded his next question.
“So you’ve been here for the last month. How do you like it?” The question was a bit different from what I’d expected, but it was a nice one nevertheless. Maybe he wouldn’t mention Nicky in our first session?
“It’s nice. People here are pleasant. Well, Nate, not so much.” That made him chuckle. “But Jeremy trusts him, so I don’t really have much of a choice.”
“Jeremy?”
“Yes, Jeremy is, or rather was, my band’s manager. He was the one who believed in us and made sure our CDs reached those who are now our fans.” Something flashed in his eyes, but it was hard for me to understand what it was.
He made some notes, and then asked in his soothing voice again, “You said he is, and then changed it to was. Why is that?” I swallowed past the lump in my throat and tried to clear it.
“Yes, I’m not sure they will want me in the band after what I did.”
“What did you do?” I grabbed the glass of water that was in front of me and drank, because suddenly my throat was too dry to speak. Here it was, the important stuff.
“I started using drugs.” His expression didn’t change one bit; he just made notes to himself.
What did you expect? He is a shrink. He is familiar with crazy.
“Why did you start using?” Shit, he was going to cover everything in one session, wasn’t he?
“Because of Nick.”
“Who is Nick?”
“My brother.” He nodded.
“What happened to Nick that made you want to turn to drugs? Have you t
ried them before?”
“No, I never did. I found them disgusting. My parents were drunks, and any form of addiction was a no-no to me and Nicky. He…he was in an accident eight months ago.”
“I see. Was he injured?” I shook my head in denial, and didn’t know how to answer that. I knew I had to admit that he was gone, that he was dead, but I’d run away from this for so long, I didn’t know how to face it. How to say it out loud? It would make it impossibly real, though I knew it was real deep in my bones. I had to say it; I knew I did. Drake was sitting silently, waiting for me to finish, and not pushing me forward. Finally, I raised my eyes at him and I knew there were tears in them, but I didn’t let them break through.
“I can’t say it,” I whispered and his face gentled slightly, though it still stayed expressionless.
“It’s okay. Nothing happens in one day, Annabella. You have pushed it away for so long, you can’t handle it all in one day.” Maybe he was right, but what if he wasn’t? I didn’t want to fall back on the whole drug usage; I knew it was wrong. “Let’s go back to your band. How did they react to the drugs?”
“Not good.” The memories of their faces when they’d found me in my house flashed through my mind and brought me pain and shame. “Jeremy was livid. Ariel and Jane…they just didn’t know what to do, and Sam…well, she was angry with me, and probably will never talk to me ever again.” Which sucked, but I knew her well enough to know I spoke the truth.
“The way you describe it, Sam took it the hardest. Do you know why?”
“Yes. Her sister, she used to be a drug addict and died of an overdose when Sam was ten. She hates drugs and made us all promise when we started off our band that none of us would ever try it, and if anyone was tempted, we should bring it up and we would discuss it.” Thinking and talking about it brought me back to the day when we made that pact.
New York, Loft Apartment, Summer 2010
“Let’s fucking party!” I shouted, and the girls laughed and danced with me to the beat of the music playing from the speakers of our shared apartment.
It was just us four there; our first single had just gone number one, and we had signed a major record deal after all those years of hustling for money. Nicky was supposed to be there as well, but he had a date and I didn’t mind, as long as he was happy.
We decided to buy some beer, snacks, and pizza to celebrate. Ariel was moving with every beat of the song; she was the best dancer out of us all. Every move she made was sensual and erotic; she didn’t even have to try. Next to her was Jane, who made rather awkward movements with her hands and just kept on moving her feet. She didn’t like the music much, but went along with it because we loved it. That girl didn’t feel ashamed to dance even though she had no clue how to do it, and we loved her for that. No matter what, we shared all of our experiences together. It didn’t feel right to leave anyone out. We had come into this together, and we wanted to stay that way. I laughed at the scene and hugged them both from behind. Since neither expected it, they lost their balance and we ended up on the floor, which made us crack up even more.
“Love you, girls!” I said, and Ariel removed her red hair from her face and smiled at me.
“Girl, we love you too.” Suddenly the music was cut off by Sam, who held a pen and a piece of paper. She sat next to us as we formed a small circle.
“Sam, what’s going on?” She looked serious and determined, and we all knew that face. She wanted to have some important conversation, so we all sobered up and listened.
“We are becoming famous.”
“Fuck yeah!” Jane said, and we shared a high five.
“With fame comes the money.”
“Well, I sure as hell hope so. I could use some new equipment,” Ariel murmured, and popped some potato chips in her mouth.
“Yeah, it’s all good. But there is also the bad side to this.” We all frowned and looked at each other, confused.
What was bad about fame? It was our goal, something we moved toward. We wanted to make it big, and it looked like we were finally there, almost to the top. Sam acted as though we’d just entered the danger zone.
“Drugs, partying, and all that.” We grew silent because we all knew drugs were a serious subject to Sam since her sister had died of an overdose. Sam hated everything about them, and the people who took them. She had no mercy for them, and there was no way to convince her to feel anything but rage and anger at them.
She never talked much about Melanie, and we learned to stay away from the subject.
“Honey, we know how sensitive and important that subject is to you—” Ariel started, but was cut off.
“It has nothing to do with it. I love you guys, and you are like family to me. I don’t want any of this shit to ruin our band, our bond, or us. That’s why I brought a pen and paper. I want each one of us to write one point that is important to her in that we would respect and follow. Mine is drugs, and I already wrote that down. Choose yours.” She gave me the pen and I took it, not really knowing what to write down. It wasn’t like I wanted something banned, unless…
“No guys allowed inside the tour bus or any work-related places unless they are serious boyfriends. I don’t want any drama with some fuck-ups who won’t stay for long.” The girls nodded, because I knew they hated it too, and I wrote it down and gave the pen to Ariel, who looked confused as fuck. She probably didn’t have a serious matter as well.
“Well…shit. I have nothing. Like, really, guys, I grew up with hippies as parents. I don’t have anything.” She looked adorably confused, and I just patted her on the shoulder.
“Don’t worry, mine was stupid too. Come up with something. You know it’s important to her. She’ll feel better if she thinks we’re on the same ground.” I spoke quietly because I didn’t want Sam, who went up to get us drinks, to hear. She would never admit it, but she wanted everything fair and square, and for that, she needed us to come up with something as well, even if it was ridiculous.
Ariel nodded and thought of something, then wrote it down once Sam made it back to us.
“I don’t want any fights over contracts. I mean, if someone is offered to do a frontal nude in a magazine, we support the decision. We do not judge.” We all agreed, and finally she gave the pen to Jane, who took it quite quickly and wrote down what she wanted without hesitation. We all looked at her with raised eyebrows.
“I want us to come to each other with every problem and ask for help. Not being afraid to express what we feel.” Well, yeah, that one was good, too. We nodded and raised our drinks in the air.
“Let’s drink to the amazing new girl rock band!” Ariel said.
“To the million-dollar contracts and record deals!” Jane added.
“To the amazing audiences and the chance to create music and make it big!” Sam put her two cents in, and I had the final word. Looking around, at them and the paper, and thinking about how far we’d come, there were only a few words left for me to say.
“To the amazing friendship and sisterhood.” The sound of our drinks clinking was like an important stamp on our contract.
Those kinds of things were forever.
Present
“That’s a nice story.” I didn’t realize I was speaking it out loud until Drake decided to add his comment. “You have a strong friendship.”
“We had, yes.” It was probably in the ashes now.
“You think that’s not the case anymore?”
“I don’t know. I screwed up badly.” He made some notes again and looked at his watch.
“Our hour is up, and I hope to see you in our next session tomorrow. Before you go, I want you to think about something, okay?” I didn’t even realize it had taken an hour to tell those few words, but nodded anyway. “If it was any of your girls in your place, would you give up on them?” He stood up and walked me to the door. I left feeling a bit out of sorts.
I knew the answer to that question; I didn’t need a whole day to think about it. I would have never, e
ver given up on any of them. After Nick, they were the closest thing I had to a family.
I would have done everything to help them.
Was there hope left after all?
I was afraid to believe there was.
“That will be $5.99,” the cashier lady said, and my stomach sank.
I only had five in my pocket, and I thought it would have been enough for some milk and bread. It probably would have been if it wasn’t for my desire to buy some chocolate.
“I’m sorry...could you...umm...could you take out the chocolate then?”
The cashier lady gave a stern look and muttered, “If you got no money, why do you even buy anything?” It was easier to act as though I didn’t hear it, not that it made it any less painful. Finally, she reduced it and I gave her the money, grabbed my bags, and was about to leave the place when a laugh, which made me sick, registered in my ears.
“Looks like you’re having a bad day, huh, Bella?” Of course, with my luck, there was Patricia again.
The girl had rich parents and no idea what it was like to starve or need any money, and she loved to make fun of those who did. I hated her. She made me feel even worse about my family than I already did.
I tried to ignore her and walk past, but she painfully grabbed my hand and stopped me.
“No, don’t leave just yet.” Suddenly, she smiled sweetly. “I feel bad for you. Let me buy you that chocolate.” She went inside and left me there, shocked.
I didn’t really want to stay there and wait, but wasn’t it rude not to do that? Maybe she really wanted to do a good thing.
She grabbed the one I wanted to try and paid for it with her black credit card, and I had a suspicion she probably had a lot of money on there. Cashier lady really liked her, and with her, the lady was extra smiley.
Finally, she came back to me and handed me the chocolate.
“You didn’t have to. I think—” She just waved her hand.
“No worries. Enjoy.” And with that, she left the shop and made me smile. Maybe I judged her too soon and she was actually a good person? I had never had much chocolate, so I didn’t hesitate and opened it to take a bite when a flash of light blinded me.