The Stranger Next to Me
Nine
When I had told Max about my life, I put it into very general terms. I had told him that I got into some pretty bad things that almost broke up the band and that was all that was said. Random days my body has these urges, these cravings, for things that it shouldn’t. I should explain more in depth.
After we got signed, we were each given a big chunk of money in advance…I happened to be one of those teenagers who indulged and when I say indulged, I didn’t mean on lavish things. By the age of eighteen, I was a junkie. I was a cocaine addict and I was falling off of the deep end. When my mom died, everything just hit me like a giant freight train and it all became too much. I got into partying and everything flew downhill from there. I flew down that magical road for a good two years, which just so happened to be during our first world-wide tour, until the ultimate thing happened.
My best friend, my only friend outside of the band, had died right before my eyes. She got into the party scene with me and we were having a ridiculously good night. She decided to be a daredevil and started snorting line after line after line. I lost count with how many she did, but when she was done, she sat back and gave a big laugh. I remember everything like it happened yesterday.
She got up to go get something to drink. I noticed that she was pretty fucked up as she wobbled left and right. She disappeared through the sea of people in some random guy’s house and moments later, I heard a scream coming from the direction she went in. I got up on shaky legs and ran in her direction. People were crowded around something, all speaking nervously, not knowing what to do. I pushed through the people and finally got to the center, where my best friend was convulsing on the ground, foam coming out of her mouth. I remember screaming for someone to call an ambulance, I remember the flashing lights and the police. I remember being handcuffed and put in the back of the police car while my best friend was wheeled away to the back of an ambulance.
My best friend had died of an overdose that night and I was stuck in a jail cell. I felt nothing but guilt. If it hadn’t been for me, she wouldn’t have even thought about going into that scene. It was all my fault that she was dead. My brother had bailed me out of jail the next morning. He paid $4,500 to get me out. I obviously paid him back, but the fact that he had to do it because no one else would was upsetting. A week after her funeral, he threw me into rehab, where I cut the coke cold turkey. Her death was a wakeup call and I stayed there for a good three months, until the facility deemed it safe for me to go home. After four months of being clean, I gave into temptation and relapsed. The look on my brother’s face when he found out has left a permanent scar in my mind. I’ll never forget it.
“Do you understand what you’re doing to yourself?! Was Emily’s death not enough to open your eyes?! You need to grow up! This shit needs to stop, otherwise you’re going to end up just like her! I’ve already lost mom, I’m not going to lose you too!”
He took matters into his own hands, monitoring me 24/7. I stayed locked up in my room during my detox. It was the worst thing I had ever experienced in my life. It was at least ten times worse than my detox at the rehabilitation facility. My emotions were all over the place, but they mostly consisted of rage. I had gotten so mad at one point that I actually punched a hole through my wall. I broke three fingers, but I could’ve cared less. I wasn’t mad at anyone in particular, I was just angry. Better the wall than someone’s face, am I right? My weight was at an all time low, a measly 85 pounds for my 5’3” frame, and it only got worse. I didn’t have an eating disorder, but I just didn’t eat. I didn’t have time to eat when there were lines to be done and songs to be sung. I’m embarrassed to mention that part of my life to anyone. I’m surprised that I let Max know as much as I did.
This all brings me to now. Those cravings were sneaking up on me. This was an occurrence that happened once in a great while. After being clean for almost three years, it kind of gets to me, but then I realize that I’ve made it this long without the drugs. I don’t need to turn to them now.
It’s times like these that I just lock myself in my room until the cravings subside. It was almost unbearable. My stomach would twist into knots, I would overheat, my muscles would spasm, and my mind would just spin out of control. These outbursts took a lot out of me and usually when they were finished, I’d look like the walking dead.
Tears sprang to my eyes as my body started shaking. I did this to myself. I caused this. All because I was dumb and reckless. Nobody knew about that part of my past but Chris, his wife Andrea, Marc-Andre, my band mates and my dad, who I rarely speak to these days because of it. My life would probably never be normal because of this.
This is killing me.
+
The urges stopped about an hour ago. My stomach felt like I had done a thousand sit-ups as I walked to the bathroom. I looked into the mirror at my disheveled appearance. Dark, grey circles ran around my eyes, my hair was up in a messy bun, my skin was a sickly white and my face looked like it aged a good ten years. Maybe that was just the way I saw myself? More pounding at my door snapped me out of my staring competition with myself. I contemplated not answering it. I didn’t want anyone to see me like this, especially if it was Kris on the other side. The knocks resounded in threes, then they would stop for a few seconds, then start again. It was getting on my nerves.
I yanked the door open to reveal Marc-Andre. He was looking down the hallway and his hand was still knocking on the door as I pulled it open.
“Hello?” He looked down at me.
“You look like shit,” He chuckled and walked in.
“It‘s one of those days,” He gave a noticeable wince.
“If it makes you feel any better, Kris wouldn’t shut up about you when ‘e came over last night. I think ‘e really likes you.” He turned on my TV and started flipping through the channels. That reminded me, I still had to deal with Max. I went to the fridge to grab a bottle of water
“Fuck,” I said before taking a sip.
“What?”
“Max. I still need to figure this out,” I slumped next to him on the plush, red sofa. “I’m thinking of staying clear of both of them for a while.”
“Why?” He looked over to me.
“I just have too much baggage to drop on either one of them. It wouldn’t be fair for me to just drop it on them and expect them to be okay with it. It’s just too much. I don’t think I’ll ever be ready for any type of relationship, I’m too messed up.”
“I think you should think about it before you do something drastic. Max and Kris are coming over tonight, so if you want to talk to them, they’ll be ‘ere.”
“They’re both going over?”
“Yeah. They made up after that little fight they ‘ad.” Something was going down tonight, I could just feel it.
+
“You'd better flush out your head, new guy. This isn't about freedom; this is a slaughter. If I'm gonna get my balls blown off for a word, my word is "poontang".” Animal Mother was definitely my favorite character in Full Metal Jacket. Adam Baldwin wasn’t too hard on the eyes, if you know what I mean.
Three quiet knocks sounded. I almost didn’t hear them over the loud gunshots coming from my television. I got up and opened the door. I saw Kris’ face, then out of nowhere, he pulled me into him. His large hands cupped my face as his soft lips connected to mine. There wasn’t any tongue involved, which made it that much more innocent. I felt the huge butterflies in my stomach, flapping their wings relentlessly as our lips moved together.
He pulled away from me, leaving me breathless. I opened my eyes and looked into his dark eyes as he rested his forehead on mine.
“That was…unexpected,” I whispered. He blinked a few times and looked back at me. He hadn’t been this forward with me for the short amount of time that I knew him. He barely talked, much less just grabbed a person and kissed them. I was shocked to say the least.
“I-I ‘ave to go,” He said quickly in a panic before letting me go and turning swiftly around. His legs moved at an impeccable speed down the hallway.
“Kris! Kris, wait! Come back!” He was already going into the stairwell by the time I opened my mouth, causing me to sigh. I hit my forehead on the doorframe a few times before groaning out in frustration.
“Trouble in paradise, cherie?” I stopped assaulting myself and looked across the hall. Marc-Andre stood in his doorway, sipping at a bottle of water.
“Oh. My. God!” I shouted and went back into my loft, slamming my door as I made it inside, completely ignoring Marc.
"Merde." I heard just before the door slammed.
After we got signed, we were each given a big chunk of money in advance…I happened to be one of those teenagers who indulged and when I say indulged, I didn’t mean on lavish things. By the age of eighteen, I was a junkie. I was a cocaine addict and I was falling off of the deep end. When my mom died, everything just hit me like a giant freight train and it all became too much. I got into partying and everything flew downhill from there. I flew down that magical road for a good two years, which just so happened to be during our first world-wide tour, until the ultimate thing happened.
My best friend, my only friend outside of the band, had died right before my eyes. She got into the party scene with me and we were having a ridiculously good night. She decided to be a daredevil and started snorting line after line after line. I lost count with how many she did, but when she was done, she sat back and gave a big laugh. I remember everything like it happened yesterday.
She got up to go get something to drink. I noticed that she was pretty fucked up as she wobbled left and right. She disappeared through the sea of people in some random guy’s house and moments later, I heard a scream coming from the direction she went in. I got up on shaky legs and ran in her direction. People were crowded around something, all speaking nervously, not knowing what to do. I pushed through the people and finally got to the center, where my best friend was convulsing on the ground, foam coming out of her mouth. I remember screaming for someone to call an ambulance, I remember the flashing lights and the police. I remember being handcuffed and put in the back of the police car while my best friend was wheeled away to the back of an ambulance.
My best friend had died of an overdose that night and I was stuck in a jail cell. I felt nothing but guilt. If it hadn’t been for me, she wouldn’t have even thought about going into that scene. It was all my fault that she was dead. My brother had bailed me out of jail the next morning. He paid $4,500 to get me out. I obviously paid him back, but the fact that he had to do it because no one else would was upsetting. A week after her funeral, he threw me into rehab, where I cut the coke cold turkey. Her death was a wakeup call and I stayed there for a good three months, until the facility deemed it safe for me to go home. After four months of being clean, I gave into temptation and relapsed. The look on my brother’s face when he found out has left a permanent scar in my mind. I’ll never forget it.
“Do you understand what you’re doing to yourself?! Was Emily’s death not enough to open your eyes?! You need to grow up! This shit needs to stop, otherwise you’re going to end up just like her! I’ve already lost mom, I’m not going to lose you too!”
He took matters into his own hands, monitoring me 24/7. I stayed locked up in my room during my detox. It was the worst thing I had ever experienced in my life. It was at least ten times worse than my detox at the rehabilitation facility. My emotions were all over the place, but they mostly consisted of rage. I had gotten so mad at one point that I actually punched a hole through my wall. I broke three fingers, but I could’ve cared less. I wasn’t mad at anyone in particular, I was just angry. Better the wall than someone’s face, am I right? My weight was at an all time low, a measly 85 pounds for my 5’3” frame, and it only got worse. I didn’t have an eating disorder, but I just didn’t eat. I didn’t have time to eat when there were lines to be done and songs to be sung. I’m embarrassed to mention that part of my life to anyone. I’m surprised that I let Max know as much as I did.
This all brings me to now. Those cravings were sneaking up on me. This was an occurrence that happened once in a great while. After being clean for almost three years, it kind of gets to me, but then I realize that I’ve made it this long without the drugs. I don’t need to turn to them now.
It’s times like these that I just lock myself in my room until the cravings subside. It was almost unbearable. My stomach would twist into knots, I would overheat, my muscles would spasm, and my mind would just spin out of control. These outbursts took a lot out of me and usually when they were finished, I’d look like the walking dead.
Tears sprang to my eyes as my body started shaking. I did this to myself. I caused this. All because I was dumb and reckless. Nobody knew about that part of my past but Chris, his wife Andrea, Marc-Andre, my band mates and my dad, who I rarely speak to these days because of it. My life would probably never be normal because of this.
This is killing me.
+
The urges stopped about an hour ago. My stomach felt like I had done a thousand sit-ups as I walked to the bathroom. I looked into the mirror at my disheveled appearance. Dark, grey circles ran around my eyes, my hair was up in a messy bun, my skin was a sickly white and my face looked like it aged a good ten years. Maybe that was just the way I saw myself? More pounding at my door snapped me out of my staring competition with myself. I contemplated not answering it. I didn’t want anyone to see me like this, especially if it was Kris on the other side. The knocks resounded in threes, then they would stop for a few seconds, then start again. It was getting on my nerves.
I yanked the door open to reveal Marc-Andre. He was looking down the hallway and his hand was still knocking on the door as I pulled it open.
“Hello?” He looked down at me.
“You look like shit,” He chuckled and walked in.
“It‘s one of those days,” He gave a noticeable wince.
“If it makes you feel any better, Kris wouldn’t shut up about you when ‘e came over last night. I think ‘e really likes you.” He turned on my TV and started flipping through the channels. That reminded me, I still had to deal with Max. I went to the fridge to grab a bottle of water
“Fuck,” I said before taking a sip.
“What?”
“Max. I still need to figure this out,” I slumped next to him on the plush, red sofa. “I’m thinking of staying clear of both of them for a while.”
“Why?” He looked over to me.
“I just have too much baggage to drop on either one of them. It wouldn’t be fair for me to just drop it on them and expect them to be okay with it. It’s just too much. I don’t think I’ll ever be ready for any type of relationship, I’m too messed up.”
“I think you should think about it before you do something drastic. Max and Kris are coming over tonight, so if you want to talk to them, they’ll be ‘ere.”
“They’re both going over?”
“Yeah. They made up after that little fight they ‘ad.” Something was going down tonight, I could just feel it.
+
“You'd better flush out your head, new guy. This isn't about freedom; this is a slaughter. If I'm gonna get my balls blown off for a word, my word is "poontang".” Animal Mother was definitely my favorite character in Full Metal Jacket. Adam Baldwin wasn’t too hard on the eyes, if you know what I mean.
Three quiet knocks sounded. I almost didn’t hear them over the loud gunshots coming from my television. I got up and opened the door. I saw Kris’ face, then out of nowhere, he pulled me into him. His large hands cupped my face as his soft lips connected to mine. There wasn’t any tongue involved, which made it that much more innocent. I felt the huge butterflies in my stomach, flapping their wings relentlessly as our lips moved together.
He pulled away from me, leaving me breathless. I opened my eyes and looked into his dark eyes as he rested his forehead on mine.
“That was…unexpected,” I whispered. He blinked a few times and looked back at me. He hadn’t been this forward with me for the short amount of time that I knew him. He barely talked, much less just grabbed a person and kissed them. I was shocked to say the least.
“I-I ‘ave to go,” He said quickly in a panic before letting me go and turning swiftly around. His legs moved at an impeccable speed down the hallway.
“Kris! Kris, wait! Come back!” He was already going into the stairwell by the time I opened my mouth, causing me to sigh. I hit my forehead on the doorframe a few times before groaning out in frustration.
“Trouble in paradise, cherie?” I stopped assaulting myself and looked across the hall. Marc-Andre stood in his doorway, sipping at a bottle of water.
“Oh. My. God!” I shouted and went back into my loft, slamming my door as I made it inside, completely ignoring Marc.
"Merde." I heard just before the door slammed.
♠ ♠ ♠
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