Radiant Eclipse

I was straightening the thinned out long hair of my messy haircut when a knock came on the door of the small bathroom. Finishing up a portion of now-black with red hair, I opened the door and stared at Brad as he jolted backwards. "What? Can't you see I am half naked?" I snapped, standing with my arms as outwards as the cramped tour bus would allow, all while wearing a black lace thong and its matching push-up bra. I really knew I didn't need a push-up, but I liked the way it somehow secretly made me feel, I don't know, nice.

"You dyed your hair," Brad stated with shock as he ran his fingers through the length of hair. "It looks good."

I rolled my eyes and asked, "Did you knock on the door just to tell me that, or do you have something worth wasting my time to say?" I asked, crossing my arms as I exhaled and blew my side bangs over my right, liquid-eye lined eye.

"We're checking into the hotel, now," he informed me as I shrugged and gestured that I really didn't care. "Johnny said for me to relay a message to you. Said to meet him at their room. It's room three-fourteen. It's on the third floor," brad continued as I nodded slowly. He looked at me weird before asking, "What are you two up to anyways? I heard you guys were going out somewhere."

I shrugged and applied foundation to my skin as I replied, "Something like that. He wanted to get away from the mayhem, and so did I. So what? Oh, I need you to take Galoof up with you guys. I already checked with the hotel management. They said dogs are welcome. So don't try to weasel your way out of it."

Brad sighed and whistled for my companion as Galoof gave me a quick kiss on the lowered hand and then followed after my band mate as I turned around and turned off the light. I walked to the back of the bus as I looked through my hot pink and neon green luggage to find clothes to wear. I tugged a black knit sweater over my head that hung just a little bit off of the shoulders and hugged my curves, a hood attached as well.

As i was bent over trying to tug on a pair of super-skinny black denim jeans, I heard someone say, "Shit! I'm sorry! Oh my fucking god, I'm sorry!" With one foot in a pant leg opening, I turned to find Johnny turning around and laughed to myself when he added, "I'm not looking. I won't look."

As I pulled the pants up with a struggle, I buttoned and then zipped them as I faced Johnny and said, "Relax, Charlie Brown. It's not like you really saw anything. I had underwear on at least. The guys in my band have seen worse for Christ's sake." I slipped my feet into a comfortable pair of gray Converse, and headed towards Johnny, who turned reluctantly around as I smiled slyly and assured him, "Stop having a shit fit, Pepto Bismal."

Johnny was blushing as he stood facing me fully, and I admired the cute way his hazel eyes seemed to watch me and my light gray ones with sincere interest. I gave myself a mental head shake, though, and gestured towards the door as I asked, "Shall we leave? I think anymore time you spend in here you're going to have nightmares of what you just saw."

He smiled as he moved to the side to let me lead, and said smoothly, "I never said I didn't like it, ya know."

I paused as I was about to lower the steps of the tour bus, turned my head to look at him, and smiled. He grinned back as I rolled my eyes and then shook my head, heading back down the steps without even a smart comment. What could I have said anyways? He had me in a tight spot with that compliment.

"So..." I looked from my left and then to the right, and furrowed my brow. We were sitting in front of the hotel we were staying at called the Starlux Hotel in Wildwood, New Jersey. It was a really nice hotel, with modern architecture and design, in the middle of the really amazing city-scape of the boardwalk-based city. It had a white sand beach (who'd have thought beaches when New Jersey came up?) and a large complex that was seemingly like Navy Pier in Chicago. I looked back at Johnny and wondered, "Where the hell are we going, anyways?"

Johnny smiled and nodded towards my right, which was leading east (amazingly) and walked closely beside me as I headed int he direction given to me. "The ice cream parlor is on the pier," he said. "I checked it out before I came to get you. Has a nice view of the water and the beach, as well as the Ferris wheel."

"Cool," I said stupidly. I didn't know what you were supposed to talk about on, whatever this was. I didn't consider it a date,. It was not a date. Or if it was, I was going to keep telling myself it wasn't. I don't do dates or boyfriends. I like my alone time too much, thank you.

Silence fell around us as we walked, though Johnny was watching the sights and I was watching the sidewalk beneath me as I counted each step I took. My mind started to wander, however, and I sighed. I thought it was inconspicuous, but Johnny glanced at me and then back towards the approaching pier in the distance. "Something on your mind?" he asked politely, hands in his pockets as I walked my hands clasped together in front of me.

I shook my head and replied, "No."

He grinned and chuckled, "You sure?"

"Positive," I answered, looking around as I inhaled deeply, basking in the scent of the ocean's salty-scented breeze. I was staring off at the Ferris wheel when I realized I could feel two eyes staring intently at the right side of my face. I looked and found him watching, so I paused, Johnny freezing in place as well as a few people headed by us. "Why do you do that?" I questioned.

"Do what?" he responded.

"That," I stated, pointing at his two eyes. "The staring thing. Why do you always have to just watch me? I'm not that fucking interesting or entertaining."

Johnny smiled and laughed as I watched with a serious expression. "If I tell you, can i ask you a question of my own? It's only fair," he said, that silly boyish smile across his handsome face. I forced a dumb girly smile down as I narrowed my eyes at him.

"I stare at you because I am trying to understand you," he answered, walking as I slowly followed him, eventually catching up as he went on. "Most people I just get this vibe, see them, and know what it is they're all about. You're different. I can't seem to read your story at all, Vickie."

My jaw clenched as I tried to snap out of the angry feeling that was developing within me. I didn't want to be a total bitch and ruin the one chance I had to just get away from the stupid tour buses and the obnoxious hotel arrangements from hell. That was what i normally did, and I wanted to try and have one night go differently. "Good," I said kind of coldly as he eyed me. "I don't want my story to be out there for all to see. It's not their right to know."

"Well, can I ask you something?" he wondered.

I glared at him and said, "You'll ask it anyways, so why ask me if you can do it? Seems illogical if you ask me."

He laughed as I felt my anger release and fall away slowly. "Why do you always get angry when I look at you?" he wondered as I gulped and steadied my breathing.

I shrugged and replied pathetically, "I-I don't know."

"That's not an answer," Johnny said.

"Well it's the only answer I got," I said firmly, as I turned to stand directly ahead of him, in the way of the ice cream parlor's door. "Let's get this straight, Johnny. I don't date, like I said before. I don't get involved with people because people suck. I do my thing, which is go on stage, play a few songs and get cheers going, then go to bed. After I sleep all day and maybe read, I do it all over again. There's no room in my messy life for anyone other than myself, and even then I want to kick my ass out of the house a lot."

Johnny looked down and away and shrugged tiredly as he sighed and said, "You know, I don't know why I even try with you, Vickie. I just want to be nice to you. I guess I feel this stupid, fucked up obligation to show you that there's at least one other person out there who's not like everyone else."

He started to turn around, and I suddenly launched myself forward to follow him, which was something I never ever did. Ever. I trailed him as he walked away with his head hung low, and I called out, "Wait, where are you going?"

"The hotel," he replied without looking at me at all. As I approached him, I pressed my hand to his arm gently and he stopped walking long enough to shake his head and keep going.

Once more I grabbed his arm, but I didn't let go of it whatsoever, and I stared at him directly in the eyes as I tried to find my words. He looked like he was holding his breath, because I didn't once see his chest fall to show he was exhaling. Did I make him nervous? Or was I paranoid? Did he make me nervous? Why is he staring at me like I'm an idiot? Oh...right...speak...

"Look," I sighed, still holding onto his arm tightly. "It's nothing wrong with you. That sounds so cliche, but it's true. It everything that's wrong with me that I am trying to help you avoid. You're too nice of a guy for me to want to damage on contact like some kind of poison or venom. And I mean that with whatever part of my heart is left."

I let go of his arm as I added, "So if you still want to keep walking back to the tour bus, just make sure to let Brad know I went down to the beach. He'll understand."

With a flood of tears starting up behind my eyes, I turned around and started off towards the boardwalk, a slight breeze starting as the sun was setting beyond the horizon. I watched the shifting of colors, from the blue sky to purple, to orange and red and so forth, and just thought, I wish I could just change already. The rest of the world is doing so.

I found a smooth rounded rock to sit on, away from the pier and any crowds of people, and crossed my arms as I leaned on my bent knees. I looked out over the ocean, its silky waves glistening in the rays of the large orange sun sinking into its depths. I'd never really looked at the sun set with any love. Sunrise was what I wanted to see, but I feared the commitment to what it symbolizes at the same time.

Alone for awhile, I started to sing to myself. Just songs that I'd made up on the guitar. Nothing like what the band played, but still songs nonetheless. It was when the only portion of the sun showing was the tiniest top part that Johnny suddenly sat down on the rock beside me, causing me to stop in the middle of my humming. He watched the sun for a minute as I watched him, then looked at me with a serious expression.

"When I was brought into the band full time, I felt invincible," he started, watching the grayed-blue sky as the sun was completely faded and gone. "I was new to this whole thing. This rock and roll, drink all day and party all night and get paid to do what most people do as a hobby thing. I never really drank before. I used to have a little here and there while in high school, but it was the harmless dumb teenage kid thing. Never did drugs, too."

Still staring at him, I gazed at his concerned-looking face and took in the way that his eyes seemed to suddenly show a pain that I'd never viewed in him before. For some reason, it made him more trustworthy to me as I turned my eyes out to the soft rolling waves of the ocean once more.

"I drank too much, and too often as soon as the checks and fame started rolling in," he confessed softly, as if he was unsure of whether or not he wanted to admit to his mistakes. "I tried heroin for the first time at nineteen when the guys weren't around."

I snapped my eyes back to him.

"I'm an addict," he said, fear gone from his statement as he looked into my eyes with what looked like hope. "The guys are always watching out for me. They never really let me out of their sight. Just trying to get you ice cream freaked them out a little bit. But I don't blame them. It's all me. My faults. My mistakes. My life."

My throat wanted to close in on itself as I tried to swallow sympathy for Johnny. I may act tough and unbreakable, but honestly, what he just admitted, it scared the hell out of me. It was me in the making, an yet I was unwilling to stop myself. It was like looking into the future whenever I saw complete addicts, and, as Shinedown once wrote, I don't wanna live/to waste another day /underneath the shadows of/mistakes I've made. Plain and simple: I don't wanna live life with the needle in my arm, and my grasp on this life slipping away painfully, knowing I could have done something to prevent it.

"I told you this because I know what it's like to think you're venomous and unhealthy for people to get close to, Vickie," he stated. "I don't know what it is, but I see a darkness in your eyes that is begging to have some light shown on it. I am just hoping I have the right kind of light bulb for that fixture, so to speak."

I smiled weakly and nodded, as I gulped and looked away, my breathing hurried as I knew what I was about to do. "My mother died of an overdose when I was only a toddler," I confessed as Johnny watched me intensely. "She did it on purpose."

"She killed herself?" he asked in shock. "But why?"

I struggled to talk through the feeling that was ripping open my chest and adding salt to the wound. "Sh-she left a note. My dad kept it for some reason, and when I was seventeen, I found it in a shoebox with some of her jewelry in the attic. It read: I know you don't know why I did this to myself, but I felt it was the only way to deal with my agony once and for all. I've been living my life like a play, pretending everything's okay when I know it's not. This wasn't my life to live, Henry. It was always the demons that seemed to taunt me everyday since I was born. My son, and my daughter, they're not mine. They're yours. Why do you think I never looked like either one of them? I love you, Henry, and I love the kids, but I'm not strong enough to survive this prison cell of a life anymore. Love you till the day I die, Leslie."

As I could no longer subdue my tears, I sobbed heavily, shoulders moving as I just let it out.

"You memorized it?" asked Johnny.

I nodded and said through my tears, "I always thought that if I I knew it front to back and top to bottom, somewhere in the words I'd find my mother, and know that she was still alive. But I prayed for her and wished for her everyday of my life and all I got were shattered hopes and dreams. And it scares me, because the one thing I did find in her letter, was me."

"What do you mean?" Johnny wondered, as I wiped my tears on the sleeve of my sweater, the darkness around us forcing me to squint in order to see through the tears that blurred my vision. "How could you find yourself in something as heart breaking as that?"

"All of my life, Johnny, I've felt something was wrong with me," I said more calmly. "I always felt like the child who brought pain to my father. I always seemed to disappoint or sadden or whatever else there is. It was all me. After the billionth time of reading that letter, I found what I was feeling all along: nothing. I was feeling absolutely nothing. And that scares me."

Johnny nodded and asked, "Is that why you're always so cold? Because you think you're alone in the nothingness that sometimes over throws us? Because I can tell you now, I know what happens when you give into that, so please don't-"

"I died, once, Johnny," I interrupted him.

He looked at me with a crazy expression, and questioned, "You died once? What do you mean you died once, Vickie? People don't come back to life out of the blue."

I shook my head and said, "Listen to me. when I was eighteen, I...I hit a rough patch in my life, and I decided I'd had enough of the bull shit that was constantly being thrown at me from all angles. So I grabbed the butcher knife from the kitchen, went to my bathroom, locked the door, and ran the bathtub." I looked away shamefully as I finished it with, "My brother found me minutes from death as blood filled and mixed within the tub. He knew something was up before even busting down the door, so the ambulance was there just in what was the nick of time."

"You killed yourself," he said.

Even though he didn't put it in the form of a question, I nodded and replied, "Yes. I was pronounced DOA, but my father said the doctor had a faint pulse, so they got gallons of my type of blood and started running it through my system as they did arterial surgery on my wrists."

I go to my feet and headed towards th edge of the water as I chewed on my bottom lip. Johnny met me and hesitantly wrapped his arm around my shoulders as I said, "I never saw the light or anything prophetic like that. So I keep thinking there's something wrong with me."

"Maybe you just haven't searched long enough for yourself," he said. "You died once, so maybe this is your second life, and you have to go find yourself once more."

I said nothing, and Johnny and I both shivered at the thought while we stood silently in the dark night.