Lost in Hollywood

You'd Be Home Now

Up the stairs, into her room. Sky held Luke's hand and led him through the house. They left behind the party, the hammering beat of the music, Joey who looked after them with large, disappointed doe eyes, the backyard where Jess was talking to Cody, her blood-red lips so close to his ear.

The sickening mess of emotions was making Sky's hands tremble as she slammed the door of her room and turned the key in the lock. The music quieted down into steady background noise, and suddenly the room felt eerily silent, the loudest sound was her own too-fast heartbeat in her ears, an anxious, agonized rhythm.

"Luke—" her voice came out weak. "Luke, I need something. Please. What do you have?"

"Jesus Christ, Sky—" Luke groaned and leaned heavily on the wall, running a nervous hand through his pink mane.

"Don't. Just— don't. Who are you to tell me no? You're high!"

"Yeah, and because of that I know it's a fucking stupid idea." Luke snapped. "What the fuck happened? You were the one who told me to go back to rehab, because - I quote you there's no happy ending for an addict."

"And you told me that you lasted two days. I've lasted for a month, a fucking month, and I'm done!"

Tears were burning in her eyes, she tasted them at the back of her throat, the salty, desperate taste. The world was spinning, but alcohol was only making her feel worse, not better, it wasn't enough, it did nothing to silence the screaming anxiety in her head. She couldn't stop thinking about Cody and Jess in the backyard, the way Jess had looked over her shoulder and slid her hand down Cody's arm. Was he cheating on her? Sky's heart was breaking, the pain took her breath away. And then Hawk—

Why the fuck did I text him? Am I just gonna forget everything he did, how he fucking almost killed me with his lies, and forgive him because I've been having some dreams?

"Come on, Sky—" Luke sighed. "I know that things are shitty. And yeah, I get it— but does it have to be me?"

She was fighting tears with all her might but her lower lip trembled when she spoke.

"Yeah. There's no one else. Please, Luke. What— what do you have?"

Luke's jawline went tight, but then he let out a resigned sigh. His hands were slow as he pulled a small bottle from one of the numerous pockets of his black cargo pants and showed it to her. Sky's mouth went dry with need, her ears started ringing.

"Oxy?" she breathed. "You've got oxy?"

"Yeah. It's... easier to get than heroin."

Sky swallowed hard and forced her eyes off the bottle back at Luke's pale face.

"You inject it?"

"Yeah. That way the high is... just crazy. But shooting drugs— Sky, if you start that, there's no going back."

"How... how does it feel?"

Luke let out a laugh, but the sound was strained, sad, exhausted. He leaned his lanky frame on the wall and kept fidgeting the bottle in his long, thin fingers. The pills rattled inside, that sound full of whispers of peace, quiet, love, acceptance. Home. She knew how it would feel to take one of those pills - shooting, snorting, swallowing, it didn't matter. It would feel like coming home after being lost in the darkness, starving for light.

"First— it feels cold. Like there's ice in your veins... but then— you're flying. But I'm not going to let you shoot it. If you've never— I don't want to be the one... the one to show you how it's done."

Sky's stomach was so tight with anxiety that it felt like she had swallowed a lump of ice. She had never wanted anything as much as she wanted to try injecting Oxy, but—