I Dont Do Too Well On My Own

The Fourth Chapter

"'scuse me." I mumble, pushing past him.

I turn around to look at him staring at me from the door way as I walk down the path. He looks sceptical. I scoff, holding my pile of clothes and starting to jog down the street.

"Patrick, what have you been up to?" He asks.

I run down the road, quickly leaving them behind. My work is a few blocks from here, it should be easy.

I burst into work and get some looks from people. I quietly shuffle to the back room where I keep a spare set of clothing. As I said, Im strategic. This happens on most days. I work around it.

As I pass a mirror I gasp in horror, I look horrible. But then again, the majority of people I have met have seen me naked, and im sure thats worse.

My green hair is in knots, the T-shirt askew. My whole self is wonky. Patrick Stump saw me like this. Patrick from Fall Out Boy saw me looking like a bum. Oh man.

I turn away from the mirror and get dressed. On my side there is a purple bruise forming, probably from when I fell off of my chair earlier.

Jasmine bursts in just as I pull my top down, fully dressed.

"Where were you?" She leans on the wall and I brush down my clothes.

"Went home with someone again. My bad?" I shrug it off.

"I think I smell bullshit!" She grins wide. Sometimes, Im sick of her terminal optimism.

I turn to look at her and she raises an eyebrow. "Nah... He was gone in the morning and I had to clean myself up and go."

"You didnt exactly clean yourself up though." She rolls her eyes.

"Hey!" I throw a hand towards her, swatting her away.

She leaves out the front again and I follow.

I serve customers throughout the day. Nothing any better than usual. Bitch face comes and goes. Its all normal again.

When it becomes the evening again it becomes the time to party again. I go out most nights. Its all just on/off partying. My life is one big circle, but not in a comforting or an adventurous way.

I leave with Jasmine at 8, we dont have much time to change before going to party so I drop by my house and slip on a dress.

We walk towards the sound of the same club as last night. Its dark and the lights illuminate the whole street.

"Hey, did I see you at Patricks house this morning?" Someone grabs my arm.

I flinch, brushing them off. I turn to see who stopped me. Pete. Pete stopped me.

Jasmine looks like Pete just walked out of a giant TV and started spitting fire. Her face is warped and ugly like that. I want to take my hand and close her gaping mouth.

"Maybe, whats it to you?" I reply, crossing my arms.

He gives me a look like he is sorry for me, like suddenly he is in control of this conversation. "Well, Ill see you later."

He leaves. I watch him walk ahead of us and around the corner.

"What the fuck was that." Jasmine breathes.

"Im not sure." I just want to forget about this. "Lets go get a drink. Tonight we drink to forget!"

I smile at her and walk ahead but she is still wary.

"Sorry but-" She starts.

"Ask me tomorrow, when I care." I reply before she can ask.

We use our passes to get in and, yet again, I make a bee-line for the bar. I manage to get through 8 shots before I stop functioning like myself.

Skip ahead half an hour. Skip to where Im sitting on top of a stranger, making out with them. Feel their hand dance an inch from my back, sending shivers down my spine. Feel their breath on my face as they take a moment to inhale. They probably cant breathe too well as they smoke. Feel the taste of cigarettes in your mouth because of... Whatever his name is...

You get to know someone much better from doing this than having a real conversation.

I wrap my legs tighter around them and push myself up against them, pushing my lips on theirs. The gasps and moans are blocked out by the club music playing.

We arent in a five-star hotel, movie style, we are in the club, the way its meant to be for people like me.

His hands slithers up my top and I lean back. I point to the door, suggesting to go to his house and he smirks, his dark brown eyebrows cocking. He lifts me to my feet like I mean something to him and makes his way across the dance floor.

Im not quite sure what happens after that. I didnt make it to his house because in the morning I wake up in a familiar bed, and the bed isnt my own.

For the first time in a long time my head throbs and my hangover is bad.

"Holy shit." I groan, propping myself up on my elbow.

The light streaming through the blind is too bright and happy, like a continuous stream of party poppers. Id rather die than feel like this for another moment. I want to die. I dangle my feet over the edge of the bed, trying to work out where I am.

I have a moment of deja vu. Im in the same place as yesterday, wearing the same thing.

I place my toes onto the wooden floor and lower myself onto my feet. I must be hungover because I didnt screw that guy...

I take my time to wind around and through the house. This is Patricks house. How did I get here?

Patrick is sitting with his back facing me. He seems to be looking into his bowl of cereal.

For once Im almost embarrassed to be in this situation.

"Hey, Patrick? Hows it... Hows it going?" I ask, gently lowering myself onto the chair opposite him.

He continues to eat his cereal. I think he is angry. Why would he be angry?

He suddenly looks up, he looks upset. He also looks angry and hopeless and caring and many other things. His emotions are too loud. Im too hungover for this.

"Why would you do that?" He says almost too loudly, making my hungover self flinch. "Why would you just let yourself go around like that, to be played like one of someones many pawns? Do you have no dignity or respect for yourself?"

I laugh one laugh, a sharp yet sour one. "Patty, I lost all dignity and respect for myself months ago. I drink to forget and end up making someone else happy along the way. Its what I do, Im not a main part of this show, I bring out others."

Patrick purses his lips and shakes his head. "Why do you think like that?"

"I lost my dignity and respect for myself ages ago. Each time I strip for a stranger I lose a bit more. I dont know how they can bare to look at me, but I guess people do anything for sex. I cant help myself, its too late now. I may as well dig myself further down and enjoy it as I go."

"So youre enjoying it."

"I wouldnt say enjoying it. Id say... Dealing with it numbly." I conclude, leaning back in my chair.

Patrick leans back in his chair and looks me down. After a few moments I wipe my hands over my face and through my hair, giving me something to do. My whole body throbs.

"Look, Im not sure why Im even telling you. I met you yesterday." I throw my hand up before crossing my arms.

"Do you want to know how you got here?"