Waiting for you: A troubled vulnerable hero romance

by E. V. White

  Alex took a towel, a pair of tracksuit bottoms and a T-shirt from the couch and handed them to her. Emily smiled, took his stuff and walked slowly to the bathroom to get under the shower.

  When she returned Alex was sitting on the couch and was filling his glass with more alcohol. When he noticed her, he budged up to make room for her. He did not even look at her but kept on drinking. Emily felt comfortable with the situation and took a small plastic box containing her oxycodone out of her pocket. She turned her back to him before swallowing the pill but she didnʼt need to, actually he wasnʼt looking at her. He was giving her space. He did not even look at her when he passed her a glass of scotch, probably to make it easier for her to swallow the dose. The girl grabbed it, snuggled on the couch and relaxed. She leaned the cool glass against her lips and thought about it once more: she had never drunk anything more than a few beers and did not know if she should give it a try or not. In the end, she shook off her apprehension and decisively gulped down the first sip that burned her throat.

  Alex woke up feeling completely dazed. His head throbbed and every single bone in his body ached. He was lying partly on the couch, partly on the floor. He took at least one minute to remember what had happened the night before and an eternity to be able to turn his head without throwing up just to see Emily, still curled up on the pillow and sleeping. She looked so peaceful and so young. He stared at her for a few minutes before realising that he seemed like a pervert for looking at her that way.

  He got up and staggered to the kitchen. He opened the refrigerator and pulled out a box of macaroni and cheese to put straight inside the microwave. The provisions that Matt had bought a few days ago were almost running out and Alex started to worry: half of the payment he received for the work at the dealership was used on alcohol; then, he also missed the gig that week, so it meant that he was not going to get any more money.

  The ding of the microwave roused him from his thoughts. He took the hot container, split the content into two plates and directed himself towards the sofa where Emily was still sleeping. He paused for a moment to observe the girl’s features and smiled when he noticed she was slightly drooling. He was amazed at his own capacity to smile for the dumbest things when he was with her.

  “Hey, sleeping beauty, wake up,” he whispered.

  Emily did not show any sign of life so Alex, after placing the plates on the table, slightly pinched her foot. The girl instantly awoke uttering a cry and curled up in one corner of the couch. At first, Alex was alarmed, then surprised by her reaction; but as he detected a smile on the girl’s face when she recognised him, he relaxed.

  “I’m sorry. When you spend your days on the streets and something grabs your feet, it’s usually bad news,” she explained with a sleepy voice.

  Alex felt repentant for not having thought about it and looked down. He had forgotten how she lived and could not help but acknowledge that his was not the best idea ever. He should have known that something he considered so natural could be terrifying for someone who was used to sleeping on the streets.

  “It’s nothing, everything’s fine,” she tried to reassure him, probably noticing his remorseful expression.

  He smiled and handed her one of the two plates. They ate in their usual comforting silence, Emily sitting on the couch, Alex on the coffee table in front of her.

  Emily got up from the couch. Alex was sitting on the floor in front of a stack of loose paper and had been trying to write something, which she could not decipher, for the past two hours. Neither of them said a word: Alex stared at his sheets of paper, Emily at the ceiling. She could no longer bear the lull. She needed to go out and earn some money. She needed it for Bobby.

  She grabbed her old clothes and went into the bathroom to put on something more adaptable for begging.

  When she came out of the bathroom, Alex looked confused.

  “Where you are going?” He asked when he saw her heading towards the door.

  Emily turned and looked at him embarrassed. She had envisioned this scenario in her head when she was sitting on the park bench. How could she manage the situation without giving the impression of being ungrateful? Sooner or later, she needed to find a way to pay Bobby.

  “I need money, so...” She did not know how to explain to him that she was going back on the streets.

  Alex got up and joined her; he took her hand and accompanied her back into the bathroom. Emily was confused.

  “Put your clean clothes back on, we’ll figure something out,” he said with a smile and a soft tone she had never heard before.

  Emily blushed but did not say anything. She closed the door behind her back and changed again, putting on the clean clothes. When she came out, she found Alex fiddling with his guitar case.

  “What are you doing?” She asked curiously.

  “I think I’ve got a solution,” he said with a smile.

  Emily waited for an explanation that did not come: Alex handed her his jacket and dragged her towards the door.

  An hour later Emily and Alex were sitting along the Thames, not very far from the London Eye, in the middle of the most frequented pathway by tourists. Alex played his guitar and sang while Emily sat beside him looking at him with dreamy eyes, completely entranced by his voice. She had no idea the chap was that good at singing and it was a pleasant surprise for her. It was cold but they did not seem to notice. She was bundled up in Alex’s coat, far more dressed than she was not even a week earlier. The boy was wearing his leather jacket, but seemed too absorbed in his music to feel cold.

  Emily was not the only one who appreciated his performance. A covey of people had gathered in front of them to listen to him and, before leaving, had thrown some coins into the guitar case. In the beginning, Alex seemed surprised, then got used to it and simply smiled at the people who gave him something. At that moment, she envied him, or rather, his ability to earn a living without having to beg for it. He had a talent and used it to survive. She, on the other hand, was not capable of doing anything.

  After a few hours and various location changes, they had earned enough and finally decided to go home.

  Matt was waiting for Jaden at the Starbucks below his office. He called right after his shift at the restaurant and insisted on speaking to him. He could imagine what he wanted to say and, for that reason, he felt uneasy. Matt did not want to explain what had happened and how Alex had stooped so low but he could no longer continue the masquerade, he had to tell the truth. When he saw him enter through the door, he took a deep breath to prepare himself for what he expected to be an undoubtedly challenging conversation.

  Jaden sat down in front of him at one of the most secluded table.

  “Can you tell me what the bloody hell is going on?” He asked bluntly.

  The frankness and sincerity with which the lad faced any kind of situation was what he liked best about his personality.

  “Alex has taken in a junkie in his flat and I think he’s started taking drugs himself, too,” he floored him with an answer that left his friend speechless.

  Jaden did not even have the will to answer. Witnessing how quickly he turned white was enough for Matt to understand that their discussion was going to be painful for him. The lad cared about Alex, so did Jordan, and for that reason at that moment he hated him with every inch of his body: he was the one who had to explain to them how low he had stooped, once again relieving his friend from an explanation that was inconvenient, now more than ever.

  Alex and Emily went back to the flat in silence. They were both freezing. It was not raining outside but still, it was a cold and grey day. Alex pulled the bag where he had put the money out of his jacket pocket. He put it in a jar that he placed on the counter and smiled at Emily.

  “If you need it, you know where to find it,” he said sitting on the couch and taking the bottle of scotch.

  Emily looked at him with surprise.

  “That’s your money. You’re the one who played for hours out there, not me,” she sm
iled.

  Alex poured two glasses of scotch and gave one to Emily, who had joined him on the couch in the meantime. She grabbed it tentatively, as if she wasn’t used to drinking alcohol.

  “Don’t be stupid. Your ass froze out there just like mine. That money’s as much yours as it’s mine,” he clarified swallowing the liquid that burned his throat.

  Emily was at a loss for words. She snuggled on the couch while maintaining a certain distance, and drank. The face she made once the liquid reached her throat made Alex smile. It was obvious even to him that she had never drunk before.

  “Why Hoxton Square?” He suddenly asked, breaking the silence after a while.

  Emily looked at him in search of a further explanation.

  “How’s that?” She asked.

  “Why do you live in Hoxton Square, why there? I mean, it’s not a place you usually see crawling with homeless people,” he tried to explain trying not to be offensive with his words.

  Emily thought about it for a while and Alex believed she did not want to answer.

  “I don’t know. Perhaps because Bobby lives there. Somehow, it feels familiar,” she said.

  Alex stared at her, searching for further explanations. Emily blushed with embarrassment so Alex looked away. Sometimes he forgot how harsh and intimidating he could seem.

  “I don’t like being surrounded by other homeless people,” the girl tried to explain. Alex brought his gaze back to her. “I’d have to sleep with one eye open because I’d be too scared. I mean, I’ve always lived with someone, even if it was on the floor of a basement like at Bobby’s. It hasn’t been long since I’ve started living out in the streets…alone,” she revealed, blushing even more. “I don’t know how to live out there,” she tried to make him understand.

  “That makes sense,” Alex assured her, filling his glass.

  Emily swallowed the last sip of hers, and then handed it to the lad for a refill. They did not speak to each other after that conversation; they continued to drink until their eyes closed. Meanwhile it had become dark outside.

  *

  Matt was running out of the office. Christopher had agreed to see him after work and he was glad about it but, at the same time, he was flipping out because of anxiety. He had to explain to him that he did not have two new songs and that Alex was not the most reliable person in the world at that moment. However, he really did not know how to do it. He had thought about what to tell him all day and did not come up with anything. When he opened the door of the building, he was almost petrified. He hated that feeling because he was used to having everything under control. His job was to make sure that everything went smoothly and he was good at it, but not on this occasion.

  “Matt, I’m glad to see you. How are you doing?” Christopher pleasantly asked him when he saw the lad at the door. “Please, have a sit,” he added, smiling and pointing to the chair opposite his desk.

  Matt politely smiled, but did not say a word. He was not sure his voice sounded as steady as he would have liked. A shaky voice was a terrible lead-in, especially if you wanted to communicate bad news.

  “So, are you ready for the studio?” The man asked.

  “Of course we are!” Matt said surprising even himself for the conviction that he had managed to pull off.

  “Great!” Christopher smiled. “Did you bring me the two new songs to hear?” He asked enthusiastically.

  The smile on Matt’s face disappeared, despite his efforts to keep it.

  “Well, they’re almost ready; we just need to polish them a little. Meanwhile, we could record the other songs and leave the new ones for last if you’re fine with it,” he tried to convince him.

  Christopher swivelled in his chair as if he were uncomfortable.

  “You don’t understand. We won’t go to the studio until I hear the two songs,” he said.

  Matt felt his face turning pale. He had hoped to be having the conversation in a different way but he did not know what to say anymore. Christopher was firm in his position and he was right. Alex had plenty of time to finish the task. He only had to do that. He did not have a job and could very well completely devote himself to music, and Matt was furious for that reason.

  “You’re right. We should focus on the new songs more. I promise, if you give us a few more days they’ll be perfect,” begged the lad.

  Christopher looked at him with a straight face that didn’t bode well. Matt understood that the man was deliberating whether to give him another chance or not, he could see it in his eyes.

  “I won’t give you a few days,” the man began, making the lad’s heart skip more beats than necessary. “You couldn’t fix the problem and would only bugger up my whole schedule,” he added.

  Matt’s face became even paler.

  “I’ll give you a month. I’ll anticipate a band scheduled for next month and give you more time. Fuck this up and we’re done,” he added finally.

  Matt breathed again.

  “We won’t blow it. I swear,” Matt promised with a firm voice.

  Christopher smiled.

  “I hope so,” he replied.

  Matt got up and walked over to the door, ready to leave. He stopped before crossing the threshold and turned back to the man.

  “Thank you,” he acknowledged with a grin.

  Christopher smiled then dismissed him with a wave of his hand. Matt started to breathe only once he had exited the building.

  Matt headed towards Alex’s place. He was furious and any attempts to calm down made him even more irate. He was thinking of ways he could get Alex to write those songs. He could replace him on stage but it was too late to find someone who could write them. He thought about the possibility of doing it himself, but knew he was not capable of doing it. He had to admit to himself that he had this limitation, even though it was something he did not want to acknowledge at all.

  He ran up the stairs and knocked on the door a few times. At first, he thought there was no one home but a few minutes later Alex answered the door. He swayed, smelled of alcohol and his eyes were bloodshot.

  “What do you want?” He mumbled angrily.

  Matt pushed the door open and barged in. He became enraged seeing him under those conditions, but when he saw Emily sleeping on the couch, he completely lost his mind.

  “So you’re dumping us for this lousy junkie?” He yelled at him.

  “Don’t ever dare call her that again. Ever,” Alex hissed in response.

  Matt felt a contemptuous look take over his face. It wasn’t like him to feel that way toward someone, but that person in front of him was bringing out the worst in him. He grabbed his friend by his t-shirt and slammed him against the wall. He felt the air pushing out of his friend’s lungs but never turned his eyes away from his.

  “Look at you. It’s eight in the evening and you’re already pissed. You live with an addict and you’re probably taking what she’s taking,” Matt growled through clenched teeth, an inch from his face. “I thought we were friends, but you’re just a selfish arse. Get back on your feet and grow up,” he continued.

  Emily woke up because of the shouting that had suddenly invaded the room and was completely terrified by the scene before her. Matt, seemingly completely mad with rage, had slammed Alex against the wall and was threatening him. The alcohol in her system was making her head throb and her stomach queasy. She was trembling and could not tell if it was because of fear or because she was having withdrawal symptoms. She tried to open her mouth a few times before being able to do something.

  “What are you doing?” She shouted to Matt.

  He turned and sharply advanced towards her. Emily curled up on the couch and buried her head in her arms. She was absolutely certain that a slap would follow soon after. She waited for the pain to hit her, but it did not arrive.

  “This is all your fault, you stupid bitch,” he yelled at her.

  Alex ran to Matt seizing him by the shoulder and turning him around to face him.

  “Don’t t
alk to her like that,” Alex shouted at him, but Matt stopped him by punching him in the face and knocking him down. Seconds later another punch reached the boy’s face and then another one.

  Emily began to scream, Matt turned and looked at her completely frenzied, and then he turned his gaze back on Alex with his eyes wide and eventually ran out of the flat, closing the door behind him.

  By that time, Emily had completely lost control; she felt panic quickly taking over her, as she realised she was not able to control it.

  Matt went down the stairs, opened the front door of the building and ran across the road. He did not know exactly where he was going, the only thing he felt were tears pouring down his face. He stopped in the middle of the pavement. He did not care if people stared at him as if he were insane as he sobbed with his hands resting on his knees and was short of breath. He was angry and sad at the same time. He had never had a fight like that with Alex and, above all, he had never hit him with so much rage. He wondered what would have happened if Emily had not begun shouting.

  He needed to calm down. Tears drenched his face for a couple of minutes more, then he took a deep breath, wiped his cheeks with his jacket’s sleeve and walked toward the tube station.

  Emily was still shaking, curled up on the couch. She had stopped screaming but had no idea how to stop the tremors that ran through her body. She searched her pocket for the small pack containing her oxycodone. She found it, empty. Panic began to take control of her mind again, making everything more difficult, scary, exceedingly distressing. Alex began to move and show some signs of life on the floor, he touched his face where Matt had hit him and groaned. She looked away from him and closed her eyes, trying to pull herself together. She realised that she was losing clarity and tried to bounce back by breathing in deeply. Each breath, however, brought more tremors and panic.

  She didn’t notice Alex had got up from the floor until he was in front of her and tried to touch her arm. The gesture however caused her to lose that one shred of lucidity she had managed to keep. She began to scream her lungs out. The fear of being touched without her consent seized her. She wanted to tell him, but could not verbalise it. She screamed; that was the only thing she could do.