Ghost Of You // A.I

City Lights Like The Night We Met / Part 2-25th August 2018

THIS IS SHIT OKAY

Los Angeles spreads out under me like a blanket of light and sound.

Management was furious when I announced I'd bought a ticket back to LA. I felt a bit insane, calculating how fast I would have to run through the airport to meet the guys in Toronto. All for 24 hours here, and now my time was running out.

As my time ticked down and I realised coming here had been pointless, I went to the hill. I wasted my precious hours dragging burning limbs, just to see the sun rise and pretend she's next to me.

I feel like I'm dreaming when she comes over the rise of the hill. After ten minutes of imagine her form sitting on the grass besides me, I think I must be imagining this too.

But there she is, her dark hair pasted to her forehead, pale hands gripping a bottle of whiskey. She's breathing heavily, her chest heaving. She's wearing my shirt, and she's stumbling.

I leap from my spot on the grass, instinctively running to her and catching her as she trips. I think she's going to tense up, and pull away from me, but instead she slumps against my chest.

"You're not real"

Her words are slurred and muffled against my shirt.

"You're far away now, and I'm very very drunk"

She giggles, and raises her hand to grip my face.

"In about ten seconds...you'll go away"

I feel a simple, pure sadness as I lead her over to our spot and sit her on the ground. Her head rests on my shoulder and her fist ball up the fabric of my shirt. Tentatively, I lace my arms around her shaking shoulders. I wait for her to flinch away,

Instead, she breaths out shakily and whispers "God, you're real"

"Maya, lets go home"

It took a while for us to make it down the hill, and even longer for me to get her to tell me how she got here.

After I while I resigned myself to piling her into the back of my car, and taking her home.

Now she's splayed across the couch, pillows piled around her and a peaceful expression on her face. I want nothing more than to let her sleep, but the time on the wall tells me I've got an hour till I need to be sprinting through the airport, and if I leave before talking to her, coming here will have been for nothing.

"Maya"

She stirs, and pulls the soft grey blanket up around her face.

"Emmie"

A soft groan escapes her lips and her eyes begin to flutter open, flinching shut as morning light hits her.

"Wha-what are you doing here? Am I...shit"

I'm on my knees in front of the couch, and I put my hands out to help her up as she struggles to force herself upright. Her bloodshot eyes scan her surroundings and her face falls as she realises where she is.

"Shit. Ashton..."

"It's okay, Maya, just-"

I'm cut of as she lunges forwards, a hand flying to her mouth. I follow her as she stumbles to the bathroom and collapses in front of the toilet, emptying the contents of her stomach. Her hair has slipped loose of its ponytail, and I pull it away from her face, and she coughs, then gags violently.

This feels familiar. I can't count the amount of times one of us (or both of us) have spent the first few hours of the day in front of the toilet, teasing each other as we swore we'd never drink again. Those days would consist of pancakes, movies and lazy sex on the couch, before going out again or curling up in bed and talking for hours into the night. I feel pang of longing for this day to end like that. I want to be able to lean forwards and wrap my arm around her, press kisses to her neck and massage her back until the retching stops.

It takes all my willpower to sit back after I pull her hair into a bun, to just watch as her body is racked with nausea and her knuckles whiten as she grips the toilet seat.

She doesn't want me to touch her. I'm sure doesn't want me to touch her. Which is why I'm completely speechless when she stops choking, flushes the toilet and crawls over to me, laying her head down in my lap.

"I think I messed up pretty bad"

"Yeah, you did, love"

"I love you, Ashton. And you make me happy. And I don't know why throwing up made me realise that...well I do, actually. I've been throwing up a lot lately, because I've been hungover a lot lately. And..."

"And me being here made you realise you didn't want to do it anymore?"

Maya rolled onto her back , staring up at me, curls stuck to her forehead.

"You came here, you came back...for me. And you make me happy, and I'm ranting because I'm still kind of drunk but I love you and I shouldn't have broken up with you because it was dumb, and I'm sick of punishing myself because I feel guilty, and I love you and I'm not really sure what I'm saying at this point"

I can feel a stupid, cheesy grin growing on my face as she sits up and looks me dead in the eye.

"Can we try to make this right?"

"Why on earth do you think I came here? I want to make it right, Emmie."