DISTORTED FACES

6. It's too late.

At this point, I have no choice. The rest of my group stands around Darren and I's apartment, talking and laughing about inquiries that do not involve me. It is not isolating since I put myself here. I rest my head against the back of our plush leather couch. It extends horizontally off center and at a diagonal. A black circular coffee table supports my feet. The guys placed themselves amongst the rest of the furniture. Two leather seats face me, but the two men sitting upon them do not. As their conversation continues I decide to call attention to myself, reinstating my existence in the room. I open up about what has been going on. Of course, I avoid getting into the details, but I tell them enough. Enough for them to understand how serious it is and how desperate I am for help. At first a couple of them have their doubts, but Darren proclaims he has seen me struggling in my sleep. He backs me up and convinces the others how hard this is for me, putting myself in a vulnerable situation.

Despite the fact that Darren has been nothing but supportive of me, his presence gives me an eerie feeling in my stomach. It is nauseating. After the incident last night, my perspective seems to be changing. I do not trust him anymore. "Why did you not tell us this sooner?" The drummer, Tobi had made his way across the living room. He sits beside me on the couch and throws an arm around me, "We should contact our manager, I know the park has a decent medical-" Tobi is an affectionate guy: his worst quality. "No." I reply before scooting away. "I can not have the park finding out about this."

Johnny says, "Stop being so dramatic, Jay. They will just prescribe you something and force you to take a week off from work." He leans on one of the leather seats like a headmaster in a renaissance oil painting. "They would remove us from the entire setlist, are you kidding? We would be out for the season and our side gigs are not enough to keep us going." Johnny threw his hands up in defeat. "Well, we have to do something." He adds. "I know," I sigh. "Charlie said she could get me a private professional to talk to- Everything would be under the table. The park will never know, and we can avoid any media reports." the idea came to my mind in the spur of the moment. I have not thought about it before. "A professional? Like a therapist." Darren asks. His voice making me feel uneasy. "Y-Yes. Well I do not know actually, Her and I have not talked about it since she brought it up." I say. "Well contact her about it. That could be helpful for you. And your secret will be safe with us." Tobi squeezes my shoulder before letting go and pats my thigh. It is the overbearing physical affection that makes me nauseous. "Speaking of Charlie, When are we going to meet her?" Johnny smiles, lightening the mood. I look around at each one of them. They are all so comfortable. "You guys want to meet Charlie?" I question. "Of course we do. We meet all of Johnny's weekly girlfriends." Darren says at an attempt at making a joke. I watch the three of them laugh together. I wonder why I do not find a single thing they joke about to be funny? I guess my exhaustion and desolation has devoured my sense of humor. Realizing this only feeds the void growing inside me. They tease Johnny before circulating the conversation back to me. "Bring her to the gig Tuesday night!" Tobi announces. "I am pretty sure Ariel is bringing his new girlfriend, right?" He mentions our bassiest. "Mika? Yeah, she is coming." Johnny replies. "Wait, How long have they been talking?" Darren asks, intrigued. "Well she started writing for his podcast I think three months ago- so a little over two months."

"So they are actually official now?"

"No- they think it would be unprofessional."

Their conversation goes on without me.

Charlie's pov

My favorite black shirt falls over my head, the cotton fabric fitting loosely over my frame. The collar stretches wide enough to reveal my collarbones but not enough to fall down my shoulder. I tuck in my top to a pair of ripped faded jeans. Strings keep the wide tears stretching over my thighs. The holes are big enough to expose large portions of my legs. I roll up the bottom of each ankle to show off an inch of my rainbow socks. The all black leather boots elevate me another three inches. My head is no longer visible in the full length mirror in front of me. Clothes still liter my room. It is a maze to leave. I just need to do some quick touch ups and I will officially be ready to go. Hopefully my attire is acceptable. Jay told me to dress mildly casual considering we will be there for a long time. I am not typically one to be doing things like this; going out with a group of people my age. But I enjoy supporting Jay and I need to keep an eye on him. I am obliged to make sure he does okay since he has not been doing too well these days. In fact, I have grown more concerned and decided to act discreetly. I have been searching for doctors who can treat Jay's condition, or should I say, keep a record of it. The stories he has been telling me are becoming more...disturbing.