Somewhere We Went Wrong

I smoked my joint on the roof landing near my room in the chill of morning. It was finally Summer; my favorite time of year. Summer meant smoothies and beaches and bikes and no shoes. And as per my new vice, marijuana. I met a guy in San Diego one day when I was putting vodka in my water bottles so no one would know I was tipsy, and he told me I’d die quicker with liquor but I’d live forever with the ganja plant and it’s holy power. Now who wouldn’t believe something so spiritual? I felt better about my life and I didn’t even have to throw up as punishment after indulging. What a win.
I threw the roach down and sat for a moment, appreciating the silence. The thing about living in Toluca Lake was the tranquillity it held sometimes. I didn’t miss it though. I moved to my own beachfront house, away from my sister and Janet. I loved them, I did but they were too motherly. And I was too much for Renee, too much and she didn’t have enough patience for my problems. She had her own life too, that’s what she told me. I was eighteen, She was younger than me when she had to be a mom. It was time for her to stop taking care of me. I wasn’t angry at her, more like sorry that I took things away from her she couldn’t get back, time she couldn’t rewind. So I left, and I’m happy here.

I climbed back inside my room and went about a lazy routine I would soon miss. I’d taken vacation time, my own choice. After a particular smoke sesh with Miley, I realized my problems were being forced into action by my ladder climbing to fame. All these situations I was thrown into aided me seeing my ex and all these feelings. Too much.

I turned on some music and vibed as I made a breakfast of eggs, bacon, and potatoes. I left my windows and patio door open most of the day, enjoying the smell of ocean and the smooth breeze. It was fucking great to live like this. I smiled and said a quick prayer of appreciation. Just when I finished making the plates, I heard footsteps clamoring down the stairs. A sleepy Will appeared, hair curled around his face and at the nape of his neck. He wore no shirt, just a pair of boxer briefs, like always. I’d actually bought the ones he was wearing.

“What’s buzzin, cousin?” I smiled, handing him a warm plate. He smiled, gratefully. I knew how often he woke up hungry, whining and annoying. He kissed my cheek and I followed him out to the balcony where I’d earlier placed lemonade on the patio table. We sat freely, him in his underwear, me in a sports bra and mesh shorts, barefoot and content. I stopped caring about cameras, there was nothing to hide physically. I didn’t run into Nick anymore, there were no current, relevant secrets I was harboring. I felt free in my carelessness. And for some reason, people were attracted to me. I’d kept getting compared to P!NK, for my not give a fuck attitude. I could accept that, graciously accept. BecaUSE they were right. I didn’t care. I hadn’t cared for at least 8 months. And it was so nice to live for myself rather than a slave for my love of someone so fucked up. I looked to my right.

Will. Will was nice to love. He’d always had the greatest characteristics. I often thought to myself, maybe if I wasn’t so caught up in hurting people back then, we could’ve been something spectacular. The kind of love story where we watch stars at night and kiss by the boardwalk. Easy, innocent, story like. But. you know, life is full of chances and possibilities that could have/should have been. There was no point in keeping up with those kinds of thought. I picked up Will’s hand and kissed it before forking up the rest of my potatoes.
“You excited about getting back to work?” He asked me, belching gallantly.
I rolled my eyes, his sarcasm was unneeded. “Not quite. And after three months, Janet’s literally throwing me back into things.”

“She making you go to the studio tonight?”

“Nah. That’s just me and Miley. We’re meeting up with Neyo. Dope as hell, right? I think it’s perfect, he flies back to Atlanta tomorrow so we’re gonna hit the studio tonight for the song I’ve been working on.”

He nodded, drinking up the last of his lemonade before disappearing into the house to get ready for his classes. I followed suit, yelling up the stairs to him, “Love me while you can, Will Danning, our times have come to an end.”
“You’re being dramatic.”
I wish.

--

I waited for a response, showing him the song I wanted to do. He had his chin sitting in his palm, examining me. I chuckled under the scrutiny.

“I think we can do better.”

“Better?”

“Deeper.”
Just the word made me cringe. Why deep? WHY not bitter? Or Miss Movin’ On? I looked to the side at Miley who sat observing what was about to happen. We were about to edge up on old feelings. We were about to feel some pain. Yeah, vacation was over.