The Last Blues We're Ever Gonna Have

Chapter 6

    Luxe shakily trudged up the grated staircase to the roof. Exhaustion clawed at her, begging her to go back to her dressing room and try to snag some kind of nap. 15 minutes of sleep in the cab ride to the studio lot hadn't been nearly enough. When she reached the top of the stairs she pushed against the door carefully, cracking it open and peeking through.
    The roof was empty. She heaved a sigh of relief and swung the door open, walking out into the glaring sun. Fuuuuuck, she groaned, wishing she had thought to grab her sunglasses. The door swung closed behind her as she moved to the railing, using it to steady herself as she plopped onto her ass. Another sigh left her as she opened the pack of cigarettes, pulling one out and slipping it between her lips. She fished a lighter from her pocket, bringing it up and flicking it to life at the end of the cigarette. When the cherry glowed to life, she drew in a deep breath, savoring the burn in her throat and the blessed rush of nicotine in her blood.
    This had been the shittiest 48 hours of her life. She exhaled, blowing the smoke out, as she let her mind filter through her ordeal. Her landlord had met her just inside the entrance of the building, explaining that he'd heard strange noises coming from her apartment. When he'd gone to check on her, he'd seen that her door had been kicked in. He had immediately retreated to call the police. Her entire apartment had been ransacked, everything knocked over and strewn about. Her drawers had all been pulled out and upended onto the floor. Luxe remembered feeling sick at the thought that everything she owned had been touched by some unknown person.
    The police officer had been sympathetic but relatively unhelpful. None of her neighbors had seen anything and there were no security cameras in her tiny apartment building. He'd asked her to look around and see what was taken.
    Luxe took another long drag from her cigarette. Her electronics had been thrown around, her silverware was dumped onto the floor of her living room, plates smashed into jagged pieces on the floor of her kitchen, clothing thrown literally every where. Luxe had combed through the wreckage for more than three hours, but nothing had been taken, with the exception of everything inside of her underwear drawer. She swallowed hard at the sudden metallic taste in her mouth at what someone could want with her underwear. She shut that line of thinking down immediately.
    Mrs. Peña, her landlord's wife had insisted that she stay with them in their apartment. She had fussed over Luxe, giving her tea and asking if there was anyone she could call for her, anything she could do for her.
    After laying on the couch, desperately waiting for sleep all night, Luxe had gone back up to her apartment early the next morning to try and start cleaning. Gigi had come around ten, with coffee and trash bags, and they had worked together mostly in silence. Luxe had never been one to talk through her feelings. So, shoving rioting emotions aside, she and Gigi had spent the rest of the day trying to put her apartment back to quasi normalcy in silence. Gigi had even held her tongue when Luxe had snuck to the corner store and come back with two boxes of cigarettes, though Luxe had prepared an entire diatribe about why she needed them and, yes, she would quit but right now she deserved something to take the edge off. 
    She'd spent that night back on her landlord's couch, wishing for sleep. Gigi had offered her apartment, but Luxe had declined, knowing that Gigi would want her to talk about how she was feeling.
    Luxe lifted her cigarette back to her lips, switching her thoughts to the table read she'd just finished with. The script for the next few episodes...She sighed. There was no more wondering about it, the writers had obviously made the call to turn her role into a romantic subplot. Which was just...so in line with how her life had been going since Saturday evening.
    The door behind her banged open, startling her enough to make her yelp. She turned to look behind her and watched as Jem and Beck strode our onto the roof. They froze when they saw her. She stared at them for a moment, before turning back around to stare out across the studio lot below. Fuck, she swore to herself. Of course they would come up here.
    "Didn't know you were a smoker," Jem muttered as he approached the railing, raising an eyebrow as he watched Luxe take a deep pull from the cigarette.
    "I quit a few years ago," she deadpanned, staring off into space while she exhaled.
    "And, what?" He prodded. "Your daily struggle as a basic white girl too much to handle now?"
    "Needed something to take the edge off." She inhaled again. Could he not take a hint that she didn't want to talk? More likely he was trying to annoy her into leaving. Not fucking happening, she growled to herself. Not until she was done smoking, at least. Jem snorted.
    "Take the edge off of what? Your favorite show get canceled?"
    "Someone broke into my apartment last night." She paused, her words not sitting right. "I mean, the night before last. I haven't really slept since Saturday night..." Jem flicked his eyes over to her in surprise before looking over at Beck. Beck met his gaze for a moment before they both turned their attention back to Luxe.
    "Someone broke into your apartment?" Beck repeated. Luxe nodded distractedly.
    "S'why I left the bar early," she murmured. "My landlord saw my door open and went inside. Place was torn up. So he called the cops and then called me."
    "Why the fuck are you here?" Jem asked. She shrugged.
    "Where else would I be? I don't wanna hang out in my Landlord's apartment all day. Don't really have anywhere else to go and take my mind off it. Besides, if I don't work, I don't get paid. And I kinda need money to get a new apartment and to replace....stuff."
    "Don't you have any family you could stay with? Friends?" Beck asked. Luxe swung her bloodshot eyes slowly to him.
    "No."
    "No?" At Beck repeating her response, she finally turned her body to face him.
    "No. I don't have any family," she said sharply, voice loud. "My mom's been dead since I was 13, and my dad is-," Luxe cut herself off. "Sorry...I..." She drew in a shaky breath. Calm down, she told herself. None of this was their fault. There was no reason for her to lash out. "I'm sorry," she began again. "I...haven't really slept yet and...I didn't mean to say any of that...so...if you could just forget about all of that..." she exhaled heavily before bringing the cigarette back up to her lips. Her hands were noticeably shaking. She couldn't even bring herself to look up at them. God, get it together! she chided herself.
    "Forgotten," Jem said quietly, bringing his own cigarette to his mouth.
    "Question," Beck interjected, grunting when Jem's elbow slammed into his gut. Luxe finally brought her gaze back up to them. "Fuck off, Jem," he growled. "I just wanted to know what was stolen." Luxe blinked in surprise.
    "You're suck a prick, Beck," Jem muttered, rolling his eyes.
    "The stole everything out of my underwear drawer," Luxe replied numbly.
    "They stole...your underwear?" Jem asked, frowning. Luxe nodded.
    "Hope you didn't keep your sex toys in your underwear drawer," Beck said jokingly. Luxe could feel her face blushing. It did not go unnoticed. "Oh shit, they stole your sex toys?"
    "Fuck off, Beck, there is no way she uses sex toys," Jem argued. He swung his gaze to Luxe's face, noticing her furiously blushing cheeks. "No," he insisted. "There's no way!"
    "It's...I...it's perfectly normal for women my age," Luxe floundered, wanting so badly to sound confident, horrified in the realization that she was failing. Miserably. Beck howled with laughter. She glared at him, feeling the last tendrils of her patience snap. Jem could only stare, open mouthed.
    "So, what kind of toys did you have?"
    "Beck-"
    "Jesus fucking Christ, you are the biggest BITCH!" Luxe finally exploded, interrupting Jem. "I swear to god, do you even think about all the ridiculous shit that flies out of your mouth, or does that require a higher plane of thinking than you're fucking capable of? Like, I seriously can't decide if you're an asshole, an idiot, or just on your fucking period all the fucking time!" She punctuated the end of her tirade by flicking her still lit cigarette at Beck, who was too shocked to even dodge. He hissed when it bounced off his arm, the glowing cherry singeing his flesh. But still, he stood staring at Luxe.
    "That...," Jem whispered slowly. "That was the most beautiful thing I think I've ever witnessed." He threw his head back, laughing loudly, breaking the stare down between Beck and Luxe. "Oh my god, I think you are the first woman to ever say that shit to him. Dude, she just fucking ripped you a brand new asshole! That was amazing! Seriously, thank you so much. This is the best day ever!"
    "Dude!" Beck muttered, insulted. Jem only laughed harder, grabbing his middle. Beck rounded on Luxe. "What about him!"
    "Besides having zero fucking personality? I got nothin'," Luxe growled, another cigarette already pressed between her lips and she flicked her lighter at the end of it. Her hands were trembling even harder, making it hard to keep the flame lit. "The fucker barely says shit to me unless it's scripted."
    Suddenly another lighter appeared before her, moving hers out of the way, flame steadily licking at the end of her cigarette. Luxe pulled  a small breath, just enough to tease the flame to dance at the end of her cigarette, cherry glowing to life. She glanced up to see Beck squatting next to her, lighter in hand.
    "He kinda grows on you, after a while," he chuckled. "Like a wart-hnng!" Beck grunted at Jem's kick to his thigh. Luxe was too shocked to do anything besides stare and take another pull from her cigarette. Beck flopped onto his ass, bending his knees and propping his arms on them, smirking at her. "So," he said matter-of-factly. "Was it a dildo or a vibrator?"
    "Jesus, Beck, there is seriously something wrong with you," Jem muttered, scrubbing a hand over his face and leaning his hip against the railing.
    Luxe should have been mortified. Well, she was...sort of. But the absurdity of Beck's delighted humor, and his ridiculous questions, and Jem's obvious shock....Maybe it was the lack of sleep, or the stress finally breaking her control over her emotions, whatever it was, Luxe was unable to contain the hysterical giggle from coming out of her mouth. And once she started, she found she couldn't stop. She laughed until she was gasping, tears streaming down her face-definitely ruining her makeup. Gigi was going to lecture her about it. She laughed until she had a stitch in her side, making her curl into herself.
     It wasn't until she felt hands hooking under her arms, hauling her to her feet and pulling her hands and placing them over her head that she realized that she wasn't laughing hysterically any more, but sobbing.
    Two strong hands held hers on top of her head and she heard a soft tenor telling her to take deep breaths. Luxe wanted to fold into herself and disappear. It had been years since her last panic attack, and here she was falling apart in front of two people that she really didn't want to see her like this. Her body trembled and she struggled to pull enough air into her lungs.
    "Luxe, you need to take a deep breath," the voice told her and she opened her eyes. Through her watery gaze she found herself staring at Jem's face. "Take one deep breath, Luxe," he told her again. She swallowed hard, fighting to take a breath into her shuddering body.
    "Make her count, Jem," she heard Beck suggest.
    "You wanna count to ten with me?" Jem asked her, his hands squeezing hers. Luxe nodded, feeling light headed. " 'kay, you and I are gonna count breaths, alright?" She nodded again, her limbs beginning to feel tingly. I must be hyperventilating, she realized distantly. "Okay, deep breath. One." Luxe forced herself to breath in. "Say it."
    "One," she whispered, air whooshing back out of her, leaving her lungs feeling unsatisfied.  She closed her eyes, feeling more tears fall to her cheeks.
    "Deep breath." Luxe pulled another breath in, lungs protesting. "Two."
    "Two," she echoed, exhaling.
    "Deep breath." Luxe closed her mouth, breathing in through her nose. "Three."
    "Th-three," She hiccuped. She let her breath go.
    "Deep breath." She breathed in, the tingling faded a bit. "Four."
    "Four."
    "Breathe." Luxe inhaled. "Five."
    "Five." Exhale.
    "Breathe." Inhale. "Six."
    "Six." Exhale.
    "Breathe." Luxe opened her eyes, finding Jem's even gaze again and holding it. She inhaled. "Seven." Exhale.
    "Seven." She should feel embarrassed.
    "Breathe." Inhale. She should be absolutely mortified that Jem was staring at her, face a mess and body trembling, while she tried to come down from her panic attack. "Eight."
    "Eight." But she found that his heavy gaze was actually helping her to ground herself. She stared into his grey eyes, finding a dark blue ring around the irises that pictures in magazines had done zero justice in capturing.
    "Breathe." There were four freckles under his left eye she'd never seen before and she pulled another breath in. "Nine."
    "Nine." The tingling was gone now and the shudders in her body was finally coming under control. She exhaled.
    "Breathe," he told her and she pulled in another breath. "Ten."
    "Ten." She exhaled, still staring into his eyes.
    "Better?" She nodded. He took his hand from hers and she allowed her arms to fall down to her sides, feeling the blood rush back into them. She drew in another breath.
    "Where'd you learn that?" She asked before she could stop herself.
    "You're not the only person in this business who gets panic attacks," Jem replied, sliding a cigarette between his lips and lighting it. He took it from his mouth, blowing the smoke over his shoulder, and held it out to her. She stared at it for a moment, glancing up at his face, before taking it and pulling a long drag from it. Her hands still shook slightly.
    "Thank you," She murmured.
    "Still okay?" He asked her. She looked back into his eyes.
    "Yeah." A hand clapped her shoulder and Luxe yelped. She looked behind her to see Beck. He smirked at her.
    "Never seen someone laugh themselves into a panic attack before," he told her. "Next time someone steals your vibrator, take a goddamn sick day."
    "Jesus Christ, Beck," Jem sighed. "You're a moron."  Luxe looked out over the edge of the railing, staring at the other rooftops. She brought the cigarette back to her mouth and took another long pull. She exhaled.
    "I feel better," she sighed. And she did. She was still exhausted, but she no longer felt like she was walking on live wires, about to jump out of her skin.
    "Well, you look like shit," Beck snickered.
    "Still prettier than you," she shot back, watching him from the corner of eye. Beside her, Jem snorted. Luxe exhaled, feeling looser than she had in a long time.