What The Devil Doesn't Know
13
Mickey and I are sitting on my bedroom floor. When did it get so hot in here? I take my shirt off. I'm not exactly modest, and I'm pretty sure Mickey has seen everything by now, after changing me when I pass out. I'm sitting hunched over, across from him, and we're passing a joint back and forth, kind of as a warm up to the coke. He honestly looks like a fucking junkie. I hadn't noticed the dark circles under his eyes before, but now that I was pretty much examining every inch of his face, they were becoming more noticeable. We'd started doing more and more coke, and I hadn't realized it, but I looked pretty bad too. I'd dropped from a healthy 120 pounds to about 98. I had the dark circles under my eyes too.
"We should really stop doing this." says Mickey, as if reading my mind.
"What?" He'd caught me off guard. I was still immersed in my thoughts about how skinny I was becoming.
"We should cut down at least. Getting high everyday is loosing it's appeal. I mean, we can't really do this the rest of our lives can we?" He had a point. Well, he didn't just have a point, he was completely right. But I wasn't ready to quit.
"Well, no. But whats the point of stopping now? What have we got to lose?"
"Listen, I really need to focus on getting a band together. I need something stable. Please, just do this with me? I need you." Those last three words stopped me dead in my tracks. It was like someone had been threatening to handcuff me to him, and they finally did it. But it was OK, because I loved him. I really and truly loved him, with every fiber of my being. How could I say no when someone I loved so much needed me? I'll tell you how. When I loved something more than him. Coke. I couldn't give it up. I didn't know how.
"I can't," I say, pulling away from him a little. "I just can't."
"Please." He grabs my hand. "We need this." I melt. I can't deny him. I hesitate for a second.
"Fine." He smiles the biggest smile the world has ever seen, kisses me, and then, breaks down. I hold him the rest of the night, while he convulses. We never got to the coke that night.
***
The next morning, I'm woken up by Mickey squirming. He rolls over and rests his chin on my stomach. "Are you ready for this?"
"No." I say honestly. "But I'm going to do it anyway. Whats the plan?" I play with Mickey's hair while he describes his great plan to sobriety to me.
"Well, we can probably still catch a flight today actually...but we're going to L.A. I know, great place to sober up right? Well I'm going to hook up with Jakob and we're going to start playing together. Hopefully I'll get a foot in the door and not meet any dealers while we're there."
"Do you know how unlikely it is that you won't meet a fucking drug dealer in L.A.?"
"Well yeah. But thats why I need you. I need you to remind me why I'm there." I can't really argue with him at this point.
"Fine." I sigh. I've lost a lot of strength and I don't want to argue. "When does our plane leave?"
"I think there's one leaving at 3." He says. He's excited. He looks so innocent now. Exhausted, but somehow serene. He really does amaze me sometimes.
"We should really stop doing this." says Mickey, as if reading my mind.
"What?" He'd caught me off guard. I was still immersed in my thoughts about how skinny I was becoming.
"We should cut down at least. Getting high everyday is loosing it's appeal. I mean, we can't really do this the rest of our lives can we?" He had a point. Well, he didn't just have a point, he was completely right. But I wasn't ready to quit.
"Well, no. But whats the point of stopping now? What have we got to lose?"
"Listen, I really need to focus on getting a band together. I need something stable. Please, just do this with me? I need you." Those last three words stopped me dead in my tracks. It was like someone had been threatening to handcuff me to him, and they finally did it. But it was OK, because I loved him. I really and truly loved him, with every fiber of my being. How could I say no when someone I loved so much needed me? I'll tell you how. When I loved something more than him. Coke. I couldn't give it up. I didn't know how.
"I can't," I say, pulling away from him a little. "I just can't."
"Please." He grabs my hand. "We need this." I melt. I can't deny him. I hesitate for a second.
"Fine." He smiles the biggest smile the world has ever seen, kisses me, and then, breaks down. I hold him the rest of the night, while he convulses. We never got to the coke that night.
***
The next morning, I'm woken up by Mickey squirming. He rolls over and rests his chin on my stomach. "Are you ready for this?"
"No." I say honestly. "But I'm going to do it anyway. Whats the plan?" I play with Mickey's hair while he describes his great plan to sobriety to me.
"Well, we can probably still catch a flight today actually...but we're going to L.A. I know, great place to sober up right? Well I'm going to hook up with Jakob and we're going to start playing together. Hopefully I'll get a foot in the door and not meet any dealers while we're there."
"Do you know how unlikely it is that you won't meet a fucking drug dealer in L.A.?"
"Well yeah. But thats why I need you. I need you to remind me why I'm there." I can't really argue with him at this point.
"Fine." I sigh. I've lost a lot of strength and I don't want to argue. "When does our plane leave?"
"I think there's one leaving at 3." He says. He's excited. He looks so innocent now. Exhausted, but somehow serene. He really does amaze me sometimes.