Jesse's Thoughts
It was finally morning. The sun gleamed into my room, casting beams across my bed and floor. I layer there starin at the lumps under my scarlet covers that were my legs, knees, and feet. I wiggled my toes and smiled.
I sighed and put my hands behind my head, my hair falling between the nooks in my fingers. I looked around my room at all the black and white photos of me and the boys, places we've been, some fan pictures I liked. On my bedside table was a photograph of me and the rest of the band and Koda. She stood between me and Zach; her arm over my shoulders, the other around Zach's waist. Both me and him held her hips. I stared at her clear, smiling face, remembering the moments before her stitches became fragments of her body.
I sat up, the smells of soap, heat, and sweat drifting from below the blankets. It was the smell of morning, of a sound body encased under thick fabric, all the heat of feverish dreams and tossing-and-turning being trapped by the blankets. I quite liked the smell and the way it reminded me that I'm still human, and not just some famous robot incapable of human action.
I tossed the red covers to the side, picked my boxers and sleep pants off the floor and slid them up my legs. I looked into my white-dresser mirror at my bare torso covered in my own blend of artwork and ruffled my hair. There were clothes all over the top of that dresser too; my leather jacket, a denim jacket, my black and white pants...
I really gotta clean that. I said to myself. I went over and moved some stuff around and found a picture under my denim jacket.
It was of us, just me and Koda. I remember when this was taken. It was the night we saw her dancing at that Mardi Gras party at the club. Her orange outfit was bright against my own clothes. I was sticking my tongue out at Mikey who took the picture and she was laughing and flashing the peace sign over my shoulder. I had one hand around her waist, holding her close to me. I looked at how happy she was, how untouched her face looked. No scar, no stitches, no pain in her eyes. Nothing. She just looked so pretty. And really, it's not even the fact that she has some naturaly beauty, it's who she is that makes her beautiful. That's why we all love her. That's why Zach adores her. That's why I think.....
My phone vibrated on the floor behind me. I turned around and grabbed it, staring at the text I just recieved.
Hey babe! Don't forget we have breakfast @ 9:30 this morning. Love u!
"Oh shit!" I said. I looked at the clock. 8:32 a.m. "Still, oh shit." I repeated. I am not a morning person, let alone one who likes to rush.
"Damn damn damn damn damn." I was scrambling to get clothes together for an outfit. It was a twenty-five to thirty minute drive to where we were supposed to be having breakfast, and it normally takes me that time alone to get ready. Now when I'm half asleep, not prepared at all, and rushing around frantically. I don't know how long this is gonna take. So I just grab a long white tee, some black jeans and slip on some shoes. I ruffled up my two-toned hair and left out of my room to go to the restroom.
I was texting Angelique back when I made it to the restroom. Dammit. How did I forget that? I mean, that's all Angelique talked about since we planned it two weeks ago; where are we gonna eat? What time do we need to be there? We never hang anymore baby, so I think we should have breakfast. You would think with two solid weeks of pressuring that's shit'll be drilled into my head. And sad thing is I remembered it every other day besides the day it falls on. What in the f?
I was done using it and texting when I shut off the light. There was still light filtering in from Koda's room that was connected to the restroom up here from the side door. I peeked my head in.
The light was from the balcony outside; shining onto the light carpet. She was tucked away in the corner where her bed was, sound asleep. I silently made my way over to where she was. She was curled up under the black covers that she had, her hair thrown over the top of the bed, pillows in the floor. Her stitches were sticking out of her face like stiff black eels that ate at her innocence as she slept. A sigh escaped her lips.
I turned to her bedside table where I last saw that art book and indeed it was still there. This time however, it wasn't the black and white hospital but something else. A mass of light and dark greys played out to make designs, and where fading, blending, and shading added demension to the peice. I looked at it, then concentrated a little harder.
It was a guy, one with sprawling chest tattoos that spread to his arms. Each line one his body was so distinct; all the way down to the muscles on his arms and the shadowing in the artwork over his chest where one arm was stretched into his hair. On his neck was an all seeing eye tattoo. His chin had slight stubble that lead up his striking jawline. His hair fell in strands, though short, in line with each other in a swooping back hairstyle that was shorter on the sides. I looked at his eyes, how they were slighlty closed but otherwise facing the ground.
I was astounded by the attention to detail; where every eyelash, every anatomical peice of this guy was so perfect it looked real. I was blown away by this, the beauty of this man, all the way down to his waist that was accompanied by black jeans and a belt. His emotions were apparent and easily readable; he was caught in thought, maybe even indecision. I loved this, all of it.
This black and grey drawing of this man however, wasn't just of anyone. It wasn't just pristine craftsmanship. No.
It was me.
I looked over at the sleeping bionic girl by me. She was far more dynamic than I thought. I was struggling to find enough words to describe her when I looked past her to a poster on her wall.
"A Picture Says A Thousand Words, But People Are Indescribable." Under it was her signature and a copyright 'C'.
This girl...... I thought to myself. She was so young, so young, but so intellegent. Nineteen and with the mind of someone who is more the wiser. While most people her age are concerned with parties, sex, drugs... she's in her room drawing, conjuring up completely gettable sayings, and dealing with the tragedies of what her peice-of-shit ex-boyfriend did to her. I admired her.
I stared at her for a little while longer, taking in the way her hair fell over her arms, the way her earrings laid in her ear, the shape of her body under the covers. I let a smile come to my lips, a gentle one, then was interrupted in my train of thought by my vibrating phone.
I pulled it out and saw the picture of my girlfriend as she called. I let it go to voicemail-sticking it back in my pocket- and just stood there a little while longer. I didn't want to answer it because I would wake Koda and plus..... something inside me flickered. Like a lamp that had always been there but had just now been found. Been discovered and was in the process of being repaired enough to turn on and use. I couldn't tell you exactly at the moment what it was inside me that shifted, but as I looked at the thick black charcoal letters that spelled my name under the drawing in the black sketchpad, and looked back at its artist, I knew.
I knew what it was.
I smiled one last time before leaning over and planting a whisper of a kiss on her forehead. I turned and left, leaving the sketchpad in it's original place by her bed.
