Jack Daniels || Michael Clifford ||

12

“Azlyn!” Michael yells, running towards me.

“Hi!” I say, dragging out the ‘I’ as I laugh.

“What are you doing?” He asks. “It’s three in the morning.”

“I went out and I had a drink.” I slur, holding up the bottle proudly.

“Why are you drunk?”

“You have no idea how much fun I’m having!” I tell him with a hiccup. “I was at the bar and these teenagers were trying to get with me. It was so funny, and then, they like, told me they had drugs. I made so many bad decisions tonight, Michael. You have no idea how much fun I’m having!” I giggle, resting my head on his chest.

“I should take you home.”

“I have to tell you a secret.” I tell him with a lazy smile. “I’m having so much fun right now. I’m like, whoo!” I say, as I lift my leg up and spin around. I topple over and Michael grabs onto my waist.

“Azlyn, what’s going on?”

“I’m a sad person, Michael. This happens all the time.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m so fucking depressed!” I yell, holding up the bottle triumphantly. “I drink because I’m sad and I cry because I’m sad and I fuck because I’m sad. It’s a vicious cycle, Michael. It gets boring.”

“Why are you depressed?” He asks, holding onto my arm gently to keep me from toppling over.

“Why didn’t you call me back after last week?” I ask with a frown.

“I did. You didn’t answer.” He whispers.

“Oh.” I giggle, gripping onto his arm.

“I need to take you home.” He says, looking around.

“I don’t want to go home. I just wanna sit here.” I say, plopping down in the middle of the road.

“Azlyn, that’s not safe.” He says, taking a seat next to me.

“I’m in love, Michael.” I tell him.

“What?” He asks, gulping.

“Not with you, don’t worry. His name is Jake.” I giggle, taking another drink.

“Oh.” He says quietly, realizing he was right the whole time.

“He never sees me anymore. I don’t see him. That’s why I’m sad.” I tell him. “That’s why I’m depressed and I do bad things and I drink a lot.”

“What kinds of bad things do you do?” He asks.

“I already told you.” I tell him, glancing at the bottle in my hands. “This is empty.”

“What kinds of bad things do you do?” He repeats.

“I make myself hurt.” I say with a laugh.

“That’s not funny.”

“Nope, but you are. You make me happy, Michael. As happy as I can get, anyway.” I say, leaning my head on his shoulder with a lazy smile. “I like it when you dye your hair and when you giggle and when you smile and when you laugh and when you kiss me and when you tease me and when you don’t lie to me. You make me happy. Jake never made me happy but I loved him anyway. But I don’t wanna love Jake anymore, I wanna love you.”

 

~~~