To the Beat of My Heart

Lean On Us

I haven't actually, ya know, stared at this thing. Like for more than a sec. I feel like Clay will burst in at any moment and catch me in the act. Game over. I have to satisfy myself with pressing my hand against my pocket, feeling it like it's some kind of lucky charm.

It's the size of a rubber and comes with rolling paper. It's drugs 101. I'd just... I'd take this. Just the once. Know how it feels. I wouldn't get addicted. This isn't the serious stuff that... broke Clay.

I double-check the bathroom door is locked and take it out, dropping it on the benchtop, my heart beating way too fast. When would I even...?

My phone hums in my pocket and I start. It's Leo. They've touched down in Bologna. Right, that's where we are. I sometimes forget. It all blurs and blends. All the hotels look basically the same.

I text back a simple 'sweet, see you soon' and then pocket my phone, pressing my palms into my eyes. Shit. I'm actually thinking about...

Man the eff up, Fletch. Literally everyone else on this tour has smoked weed. I don't need to play high and mighty about it like they'd think any less of me otherwise. It's just—

The bathroom door handle rattles and I jump again.

"Hey," comes Clay's muffled voice. "grub's up, mate."

Right. We're eating in Kai and Ansel's room. Kai went down and secured us a big buffet. I can smell the pastries and bacon cutting through the steam of the shower.

I grab at the weed and slip it back in its constant home, my little guilty secret.

"Uh, yeah. I'll be out in a sec."

Clay hums alright and then I wait for his footsteps to fade away. I hear him telling Kai to go ahead and we'll catch up. Oh shit... so glad I double checked the lock.

What the hell have I become? Hiding things, hiding... drugs from Clay? A bloody hypocrite of the highest order.

But this isn't a solo game. Don't think I've forgotten about your sus call, Clay. If you're using again, I have a right to know. Not Chelsea.

Goddammit. It's not her fault.

Stuff it. I just need to... bring it up in a way that isn't so... in his face.

I open the door and catch Clay sitting on the bed, slipping his socks on.

"Hey, babe?" I say.

He glances up. "Yeah?"

"You... uh... you..."

"Any day," he grunts, wrestling on his left shoe.

"Um..." My neck twitches and I snort. Nervous tics. The best kind. "You feeling alright? Don't... uh, don't have any... urges."

"Urges?" He stares at me.

"Uh, yeah." I shrug, slipping my hands in my pocket. My fingers touch the plastic. I pull them back out. "It's just Kai and... like you don't—need to use again? Or like... the sensation..."

"Fletch," he says, his voice clipped. "that's fucking stupid."

"I just... I'm checking up, ya know. It's been..."

"Years. You know I'm good."

"I get that and—"

"What the hell's up with you?"

I feel this all spiralling into a total clusterfuck. I've felt that a lot lately.

"It's nothing."

"No. It's not nothing."

"Don't overthink—"

"This 'cause Kai gets high basically every night now? Yeah, I know. Weed is the basic shit. I smell it on him, ya know. I don't feel threatened."