The bass of you

Chapter 52

An hour later, I'm still sitting in the same place, still looking away, still miserable. The bottle of rum is almost finished and I'm as drunk as ever. The others are drinking, talking amongst themselves. I vaguely heard their conversation earlier, about how they'll just need to keep trying because they can't lose Chase. But I also heard them say that if they can't get through to him, they're going to have to let him go at some point. The revelation of that made me gulp down more rum. It's awful hearing about one of the biggest rock bands talking about how they might have to leave their best guitarist - and best friend - go from their band. 

Bill and Isaac aren't in here anymore, they left about ten minutes after I came back into the lounge. The last thing I heard Bill say was, "get your shit together. Stop fucking around with drugs, or you'll end up like Chase." Bill is really concerned for the boys in Black Dagger. I heard something from Bill while he talking to them, saying about how hard they worked to get to where they are now, and how they climbed from the muddy bottom of the ladder, finally making it to the top. It just makes everything so much sadder hearing that.

I should have seen it when I first started noticing Chase going to the bathroom and taking forever in there. It was obvious but yet such a mystery to me when I saw that he was sweating and looking ill and being fidgety. I'm wondering how long Chase has been doing heroin and how the others didn't see him getting this bad. Although, he is pretty sneaky about it, so I can't really hold anything against them for that. Maybe they just didn't see how bad he was getting, or maybe they were scared of being hypocritical because of their own regular drug using.

"How you doing?" Wolf asks me in my ear.

Turning to him, giving a fake smile, I mumble, "yeah, I'm good."

"We are really grateful for everything you have done, you know," Wolf says with a smile. "You're something else."

"I'm leaving tomorrow."

I didn't even meant to say that, it just blurted out unexpectedly. Probably because I'm drunk, or because I'm holding so much in that something needed to be let out - or both. Wolf's jaw tightens, his eyes go sunken, his smile slowly fades. It hurts to see Wolf have such a reaction my announcement of departure, but nothing is going to change my mind. I've had enough. I'm not built for drama, or drugs, or overdoses, or addicts. I'm just a girl from a small town in an almost unnoticeable place on the map.

Wolf places a hand on my shoulder, presses his lips together, then pulls me into him for a hug. Patting my back gently, he says, "I understand. It's your decision, I won't try to make you change your mind." Pulling away from me, he stares me right in the eyes. "You're a strong girl, Monica, but even the strong ones don't have enough to keep them going sometimes."

Nodding and smiling, I start to feel tired. I'm worn down, traumatised, got Chase's words playing about in my brain, having flashbacks of Chase's horrible dead face, feeling the dread and hopelessness fill me inside. I just want to be left alone, to sleep everything off, to forget about things for a few hours, and then tomorrow will come quicker. Then I can leave and go back to my normal, quiet life.

"Thanks for everything, but I'm quite tired. I'll be going to my room now, I'll see you tomorrow," I tell Wolf. "Will you tell Layla that we're leaving tomorrow afternoon, please?"

Wolf nods once. I get up, hold the arm of the sofa for support as I stumble to my feet. Wolf instantly gets up to help me, but I show my palms to him to let him know I've got things handled. Smiling at him, I then turn around and make my way to the door. I'm so excited to get to sleep, it's absurd.

The door opens and in walks four women in revealing outfits. I'm pretty sure that they're strippers, but I didn't hear or see anyone calling for them. They must have done it while I switched off and went into my own little world of horrors. The boys are laughing, whistling, and watching the strippers with starry eyes. I feel uncomfortable. I don't want to be here while this is happening. I'm not in the mood for anything else - least of all strippers showing me all sorts.

Nah, I'm out of here.

When I get to my room, I don't bother turning on the light. I just walk through the pitch-black, drunk, talking to myself about how Chase is 'done' with me. I kick off my shoes, pull off my jeans, and feel for the bed. When I feel the soft duvet under my palm, I clutch it as I get onto the bed. Crawling on the bed, I feel for the top of the duvet, and once I've found it, I pull the covers back and get straight into bed.

Closing my eyes as soon as my head hits the pillow, I see Chase's purple face in death. I feel the drop of my heart sinking into the pit of my stomach when I realise Chase has no pulse. The sound of Chase discarding me like I'm a girl whose services he had paid for. I'm heartbroken way more than I should be about being discarded by a boy I'm not even in a relationship with. It's even more heart-breaking knowing that he probably thinks nothing more of it than a girl he hung out with, had sex with, and now wants to forget about it all. He claimed to have wanted to know me, know deep and personal things about me, because he genuinely seemed interested in knowing the person I am.

Done with me. Done. Done. Done.

Gripping the pillow and burying my face in it, I cry myself to sleep.