I'd Kiss You Goodbye If I Thought It Would Make You Stay

"Lately I don't get enough sleep. The bags by my eyes can carry my groceries. I drink wine just to feel more romantic." - Socratic

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Nine months ago…

“Thank you, New York, you’ve been great!” I yelled into the mic, as Seb struck the last chord of the song. I ran offstage breathlessly with my band mates, hyped up with the energy only a good show could bring.

I ran headfirst into someone, not watching where I was going.

“Hey,” he chuckled, tightening his arms around me.

“How did we do?” I asked him, pulling away just slightly to look at him.

“Amazing. You’re always amazing,” he said, smiling crookedly at me.

I smiled back, standing on my toes and pressing my lips to his. He deepened the kiss, causing me to forget where we were for the next few minutes.

“Wanna go get something to eat?” I asked, once we broke apart. He laughed.

“My set’s in fifteen minutes, remember?” he reminded me.

“I forgot,” I admitted, shrugging indifferently. It wasn’t uncommon for me to forget things when I was around him. He laughed again.

“We’ll go out after, okay?”

“Okay,” I agreed. “I love you.” He smiled before pressing another kiss to my lips.

“I love you, too.”

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

I groan as the sunlight pierces my eyelids and quickly bury my face in the pillows.

The last thing I want to do is get out of bed today.

I roll over, and my arm’s sticking to last month’s issue of AP that I had been re-reading sometime in between drinks last night. The headlines scream a reminder at me:

Paint Me Perfect to Release New Album Next Month!

Paint Me Perfect, fresh out of the recording studio; have been announced on tour with co-headliners The Academy Is… this spring. Having just recorded their sophomore album with the help of Patrick Stump as producer, this L.A.-based quartet says they’re ready to get back on the road with their old friends after a long-anticipated visit to the studio. The newest addition to the Fueled by Ramen/Decaydance family, female-frontedPaint Me Perfect is making a name for themselves in more ways than one. Singer/lyricist Rachel Shaw, despite previous split withThe Academy Is… Aussie guitarist Michael Guy Chis-

My vision blurs over from my failure to remove my contacts last night, not that I would have continued reading anyway; I’m feeling a bit nauseous by now and I can still taste the stale alcohol on my breath.

I rub my eyes tiredly, slightly hung over from drinking late last night with Jude. He’s the only one that will drink with me lately, since Seb is straight-edge, or at least, he might as well be because he never drinks, and Suzie just plain refuses to drink with me until I get over him. So it’s just been me and Jude.

The dreaded knock on my door comes, and I already know who it is, so I don’t get up.

I shove my pillow over my head as I hear the front door open and footsteps approaching my bedroom.

Go away, just go away…

“Rae.”

I ignore her.

“Rachel.” Oh great, both of them are here.

“What?” I groan loudly, shoving my pillow aside as they enter my room.

“You have to get up. It’s past noon already,” Suzie informs me, pulling my closet open and rummaging through it.

“So?” I ask indifferently.

“So we have an interview in an hour and you’re nowhere near fucking ready!” Seb explodes at me impatiently.

“What?!” I demand, as Suzie thrusts some black jeans and a hoodie at me. I jump out of bed, stripping down and then jamming on my clothes quickly.

Seb politely leaves the room while I change, but Suzie stays to give me a piece of her mind.

“How could you forget about the interview? Seriously, Rae?”

“Please stop yelling,” I groan, rubbing the sides of my head while I make my way into the connecting bathroom for some aspirin. I dry-swallow a few pills before splashing cold water on my face. “I’m sorry, okay?” She sighs and looks at me sympathetically as I apply a little make-up to hide the tiredness from my face.

I honestly can’t remember my last good night of sleep.

“Come on, let’s go,” she says ten minutes later, ushering us out of my apartment.

“What are we talking about today?” I ask, lying down in the backseat of Suzie’s car.

“The record and tour. Mostly tour,” she adds hesitantly. “We’re meeting Jude and Wes there.” Just thinking about the upcoming tour makes my stomach turn.

I’m not ready for this.

“You don’t have to say anything,” Seb reassures. “We’ll do all the talking.”

They exchange a glance when I don’t reply.

I close my eyes as they murmur to each other in the front seat.

I don’t care. I already know I haven’t been getting better as tour approaches, and I don’t need to hear them muttering about it to know how pathetic I am.