One More Song

Chapter Fourteen

A week.

One very long, very tedious week and she was still methodically prowling job listings, putting in her abbreviated resume and getting no answer.

Seven days that dragged along, sunrise to sunset, with a surprising amount of productivity involved--papers finished, classes attended, tests taken. Mariel had been almost shocked to see how much easier finishing up the last requirements for her degree was when she wasn't balancing work, school and the band.

Just a week during which she did everything possible to keep herself busy, avoiding anything that would've brought her into contact with musicians or fae. It was surprisingly easy to avoid both when she put her mind to it, but required more rearrangement of her schedule and habits than Mariel had realized.

Who would've thought she'd put so much work into being around those very demographics she never wanted to see again?

...well, at least one of them. The musicians thing was simply to alleviate her guilt at having done nothing to pull the ragged edges of a band together. Abel's single visit--a twenty minute stretch of uncomfortable silence punctuated with a few quietly muttered statements--had been enough to reassure her that he wasn't going to ditch her in favor of playing for Tyler.

And what he said made it clear enough that Tyler's arrogant statement about Amelia "covering" the band expenses had been yet another round of self-delusion. The loft was empty of everything save the couch and a few assorted milk crates--both Tyler and Nathan had visited it at some point, taken their equipment and left nothing behind. Abel had finally done the same, and it was that he went to Mariel to confess, sheepishly promising that when she had something "in mind," he'd come back.

One long damn week, and she was utterly sick of it.

Which was, of course, why she was dragging herself up the narrow, dusty stairwell to the loft. Not because she was desperate to play music again. Or because her dorm room was so unbearably lonely that she couldn't stand being in it. There was no real reason to be here again; Briar wouldn't have fussed if Mariel had shown up yet again to take up valuable sketching time with more pointless anime and cups of coffee.

It was because she was sick of listening to the same MP3s over and over again, and she hadn't gotten her crate of CDs out of the loft. That was, of course, why she'd crossed the city and ignored the last paper that she could've been working on. She just needed new music to listen to while hammering out the final details and putting her outline to work.

Yup.

"...maybe I'll fucking believe it if I keep thinking it," she muttered, sweeping her loose hair back over one shoulder. If she could dig out her old Type O Negative CDs, Mariel would count the trip worthwhile and not berate herself for caving into habit and crawling to an empty, dusty loft just for the sake of doing it and pretending that maybe everything hadn't completely blown up in her face.

"...yeah right." A snort at herself and she rounded the last corner to the familiar landing. The door was shut--no surprise there--and Mariel had to struggle with the key before she coaxed it into turning and got the door open.

Stale air spilled out; she wrinkled her nose, stumbling over the edge of the tattered carpet, and dropped her backpack just inside the door on her way to the window. It hadn't had enough time to get glued back down with grime and dust--Mariel got it open with a push, bruising her shoulder only once before she was able to stick her head outside and breathe in deeply.

Nighttime in the city was her favorite, really. From the interstate that split the city in half came the distant hum of passing cars and she could hear snatches of music from a few open apartment windows. The air was cooler and it seemed easier to smell the salt breeze drifting in from the Waterfront without the stink of hot asphalt and the exhaust of cars moving through the Downtown District. Wedged on the narrow sill in that familiar cramped pose, cigarette in hand, she could close her eyes and pretend that nothing had changed.