Battling the Loss You Live For.

Frank’s Point of View
I awoke the next morning, Sazzy wrapped up in my arms on top of me, the blankets trapping us tightly together comfortably. The curtains were drawn, the day behind them bright and sunny. I could feel the breeze from the open window, blowing though the room. I checked the clock on the nightstand, showing it was 10:03am.
Sazzy’s arms were coiled around my neck, her head resting on my bare shoulder, every warm breath she released making me feel warm and content. I could feel the steady rhythm of her breathing, my arms wrapped around her waist as her body rose up and down with every single breath she took in.
I was lying there when the words came to me, lyrics I thought I could never finish.

We live on a thumbnail
With no better charm
Smiles echo in my memory,
Picture perfect anniversary

Sixteen years
Full of regrets
Your excuses bore me
It's not my fault I have my fathers eyes.

The cradle rocks
The ground breaks beneath me as I fall…

I went over the two verses in my head, the ones I wrote back in Jersey after Sazzy left. It was funny in a way that Sazzy thought I had Mom’s eyes, when I had my Dad’s. My mother had hazel eyes, but they were more like gold. Mine were hazel, too, but were leaning on the green side, just like my fathers’. I and my father were literally identical, but obviously, I was a lot younger.
Anyways, the following lyrics to the beginning of my song echoed in my head, and I was amazed and what I came up with so fast.

You're looking thin
Cause you stopped giving
Look what I've done,
I've done
I've done
What I've done,
I've done
What I've done
What I've done
What I've done
What I've done
What I've done
What I've done
I've done
I've done without you

I thought that’d sound good with what I already had down, and what music me and the band came up with. It always felt like it was missing something. I thought of the next part that I’d written in Jersey, piecing everything together.

Things will never be the same
I can't walk away
From who I am
I won’t denounce my name
I've done all I can, all I can

No way home, no way home.

I hummed everything together, linking it all together.
“That sounds good,” I heard Sazzy whisper. I didn’t notice her wake. I looked down at her, smiling.
“You like it?”
“Well, I haven’t really heard it,” she said, looking up at me with tired eyes, a hint of amusement in them.
“True,” I replied, nodding my head, “you will soon, hopefully… on a CD.”
“You never told me about your bands before,” she mumbled, almost incoherently.
“It didn’t matter… they weren’t anything major,” I explained, my eyebrows knitted together in wonder. How did she know?
“My friend Josh told me about it. The guy I told you about… from the plane,” she claimed, trying to make it clear.
“Oh… the guy from Hoboken?”
“Yeah. He said that you were really into the music scene and stuff. And that you were quite big,”
“I suppose I was… I never really thought about it.”
She twisted her mouth to the side, in a mock annoyance expression. I chuckled, pulling her closer towards me.
“Oh, amazing Sazzy, would you ever forgive me for not telling you about my musically related past?” I cried dramatically, pressing a hand to my chest. She chuckled, starting to play along.
“Well, I suppose,” she answered, rolling her eyes, her lips pulled into a smile. I leant down, pecking her lips. She lifted herself up, gluing her lips to mine and letting my tongue enter her mouth. I rolled onto my side, bringing her with me, our lips attached all the while. She pulled away, our breathing ragged and uneven.
“What time is it?” she asked, her forehead creased.
“Around ten… why?”
“Fuck! I got to go to work,” she cried, scrambling out of bed and grabbing a towel, along with some underwear.
“I’ll be back in about twenty,” she said in a rushed tone, running out the door to shower. I smiled, lying back down, my head hitting the pillow. I was still quite tired and feeling shitty, so I grabbed my cigarette carton from the nightstand, flicking it open. There was a rolled up spliff and 14 cigarettes, my red lighter jammed in there too. I pulled out a cigarette, knowing that if Sazzy smelled the pot, I’d get a broken nose or something. When I’d smoked my third cigarette, she walked in the door, her towel-dried hair pulled into a messy bun and her underwear on underneath her towel.
“What time do you start?” I asked, lighting up my fourth.
“Twelve. How many of them have you smoked? It fucking stinks of it,” she grumbled, pulling on a pair of white socks and slipping on a pair of skin tights and black shorts.
“This is my fourth… want one?” I could tell she’s going to kill me or something.
“Your fourth?! Frank, what the hell?!” she yelled, abandoning her search for a t-shirt and turning her head to face me.
“Do you want to get lung cancer?”
“Do you want a cigarette?” she rolled her eyes, turning away and pulling out a white ripped up Black Flag shirt, unwrapping her towel quickly and pulling it on. It looked good on her – it settled around her shoulders, showing off her neck and shoulders, revealing the black straps of her bra.
“You look so fucking good right now,” I claimed, sitting up cross-legged.
“…It’s just some shorts and a top, Frankie,” she replied, raising an eyebrow.
“I know. But you look good.”
“Thanks… I think,” she started on her make-up, a light smile on her face. I watched her, taking my time on the cigarette. Whilst she was applying the final layer of mascara to her lashes, I lit up another one for her. I could tell she wanted one. I passed it to her silently, and she smiled thankfully as she inhaled.
“I’m still pissed at you,” she clarified.
“I know. But I’ll make it up to you.”
“Oh, yeah? How?”
“I’ll let you make-out with me,” I said, as cockily as I could, wiggling my eyebrows. She laughed at my stupidity, pulling out her hairdryer.
“You’re so ridiculous,” she stated, still grinning.
“Yeah but you love me,” I called over the hairdryers’ noise.
“Idiot,” she chuckled, the cigarette nestled between her lips. “What’s the time?”
“10:46,” I read off the clock, getting up off the bed.

After I washed up and changed into some black baggy-style skinnies, along with white vans and a plain white polo shirt and a black cardigan, I walked back into the bedroom, to see Sazzy slip on some white Converse. She sat up, her naturally dead-straight hair falling around her shoulders. She looked really good, but really skinny. It was a freaky skinny. Her hair looked nice straight; I don’t see why she doesn’t like it. It looked longer, falling in between her shoulder-blades, the blue streaks complimenting her layers nicely.
“You look pretty much like sex on legs today, Frankie,” she said, quite impressed, looking me up and down. I grinned.
“Likewise. I like your hair straight,” I admitted, walking over to her and twisting an arm around her. She rolled her eyes.
“I get so bored of it. And it’s so hard to curl,” she added, leading me out of the room, giving me my wallet, keys, cigarettes and phone. She had on a faux black leather bomber jacket on, her cigarettes hidden in the inside pocket, her keys in her front pocket of her jacket, her phone placed in her back pants pocket.
We carried on talking about mindless stuff, until I noticed we’d left the house, and were waiting at the bus stop.
“Hey, what about breakfast?” I said, noticing my surroundings as I sat down on the bench. She raised an eyebrow, a smirk on her face.
“We’ll catch some at Star Bucks. Charley works there, didn’t he tell you?” she explained, sitting next to me. I shook my head a no. The bus pulled up in front of us, and Sazzy tugged me next to her, flashing a bus card at the driver, and then placing three pound coins on the small silver tray for me. She passed me my saver, pulling me along the stairs. I shoved the thin receipt-like paper into my wallet, taking hold of Sazzy’s hand and letting her lead me to the back of the bus.
“That song you were humming-”
“It’s a song I’ve been working on for ages. I’d never thought I’d finish it,” I cut her off, knowing what she was getting at. She nodded, smiling.
“What’s it about?”
“Home…” I answered in a whisper. I didn’t really know what home was anymore… but I had a vague idea.
“But I don’t know anymore… I kinda… I dunno,” I mumbled, not making sense of my thoughts. I saw her smile slightly from the corner of my eye, and felt her place a hand on my arm.