She's Got a Warped Frame of Mind
Mr. Blue-Eyes
My hands shook as I touched the screen, bringing up Jasper’s name and phone number. My thumb was poised over the “call” option as I breathed in another drag of nicotine with my left free hand. I sighed, my nerves getting the best of me in the current situation- I let my thumb fall to the screen before I knew I would chicken out and avoid calling him even longer. I needed this; needed to get the shit off of my chest…. I needed to feel whole again; needed.
“Yo, this is Jasper- I can’t talk right now; so leave a message and I might get back at you(Insert laughing hysterically here in the background).” I contemplated hanging up but just hearing his voice made me feel guilty. BEEP
“Hey… It’s me.” I sighed “I know I fucked up everything… and I’m sorry. I just- I- I want another chance. I’m, sorry….” I added a really quick “I’ll call you back.” Before I ripped the device away from my ear and ended the call. It was times like this that I needed that fix. My veins itched and begged for that rush; that amber colored liquid they seemed to thrive on months ago. There were no worries when I was numb and flying in the clouds. None at all.
I wiped the tear from my eye as I finished the cigarette up. I smashed it with my shoe and then picked it up, putting it in one of those garbage can lids with the dark sandy ash in it. Head down low, I made my way into the crowded mall. I tried to lay low; that was my plan anyways.
I ended up putting my hair up into a lazy looking mess of a pony-tail as I looked around the guitar center inside. It has been over a month since I picked up my instrument of choice, of trade. My fingers brushed over the bodies of the dozens lined up along the wall that were being showcased. It just made me miss my own babies all the more; it was a bitter sweet moment. I could have the most expensive guitar in the world- but it would never compare to the first one I got from my brother after his second tour right before his death. That, that is what you should consider as something special.
I stopped in front of a Gibson 50th Anniversary 1960 Les Paul. I just stood looking at it
“Awesome, isn’t it?” I flinched and looked over my shoulder to see a red-headed guy standing there with a huge goofy smile on his face.
“Sure” I nodded looking discretely at his appearance. He didn’t seem to notice though because he just walked closer and took the guitar off the wall rack for further inspection. He looked like any other band member- longer shaggy hair; but not any crazy length of hair just about 3 inches long from root to tip. Checkered shirt, form fitting jeans, converse on his feet, not to mention the latch and objects hanging loose off of one of his belt hoops on his hips- he was definitely a band guy and it was the access pass which confirmed that fact.
“I don’t know who they plan on selling it to though” He flipped over the price tag “15 thousan’ dolla’” He finished in a funny forced accented voice. I just looked at him strange before walking down one of the CD aisles, hip-hop to be exact. I was going to just leave but a picture on the front page of a magazine got my attention. Black Rose Dying was on the cover of Kerrang…
‘What. How?’ I grabbed it and flipped through the printed pages to get to the cover story.
“It was for the best” was in bold typographic letters, in quote, layered on top of the picture of the members as well as the recent “temporary” addition once I checked into rehab. Didn’t look too “temporary” in my opinion…
“For the best?” I muttered furiously underneath my breath in pure annoyance. I couldn’t believe that, this was what they truly thought about me. ‘For the fucking best? phft, please.’ I scanned through the 4 page article looking for any signs of my stage known name “Noel” (Which is also my last name mind you) and “drugs” in the same vicinity within the way too many little paragraphs… luckily there weren’t any. Although from what I got out of it, they aren’t too happy with me… they seem pissed off to the extreme. That makes 5 of us then
“Cool band, you like them?” I gave a shrug and “eh” as my reply. “I’m Eric” A hand appeared in my vision; couldn’t this guy just leave me the hell alone?
“Nice to meet you” I smiled and replied nicely. All those years of fan meet and greets with sleazy “I just want to get in your pants” over 21 year old guys had really payed off at this very moment.
“And you are?” He motioned like he was waiting, tapping his imaginary watch around his wrist as he said “tick tock tick tock” underneath his breath. His smile never left his face.
“Hanley. Okay?” I replied sarcastically before a big crash was heard as well as yelling and laughing. Both Eric and I peeked around the corner to see a whole bookcase once willed with CD’s upended on flat on the floor. CD’s pooled around in piles in a wide radius around a kid who was sitting on the floor. This kid had longer hair than Eric’s was; it was also a dirty blond color. He looked a bit like a surfer man would- flip-flop sandals, shorts and a tee; a hemp sort of necklace laying limp around his neck overtop his shirt.
“I’m going to pretend I don’t know him…” The Eric guy whispered into my ear while he stood behind me. All in all he wasn’t too incredibly tall, or much taller than I was shall I say.
“mhmm” But I got lost in the humor filled blue eyes, belonging to the guy standing across from me on the opposite side of the kid on the floor. This guy had chestnut colored hair, cropped short and he was tall, very tall (at least I thought so.) He wore a Hurley brand shirt and black skinny jeans; I tore my eyes away before getting more distracted. Without so much as another word I turned on my heel and walked out of the chaos filled store to find some relative peace and quiet. I settled with JCPenny’s handicapped fitting room. I sunk against the wall to the carpeted floor underneath me and grabbed my phone out of my pocket once more; trying again what I had done less than an hour and a half before.
“Yo, this is Jasper- I” The message cut off suddenly and a real life voice spoke groggily into the speaker. “Hanley, is that you? Hanley-“I couldn’t speak, I froze. Just like the first time I ever went on stage years ago.
“It was for the best… like you said in that interview.” I whispered softly.
“No, no it wasn’t. What you did was just plain disgusting, ignorant and hurtful! You know I had to tell everyone right? I had to tell them ALL that we couldn’t go on this HUGE ass tour because someone, meaning you, has been hooked on fucking drugs to the point where you almost died?! You died 3 fucking times, flat lined, 3 FUCKING TIMES in that hospital!” Jasper definitely seemed wide awake now. “Why wouldn’t you tell us, we could have got you help sooner-“
“It wouldn’t have mattered! Don’t you see, I would have been miserable-
“And look where it go you. You want to come back but it’s not going to fucking happen Hanley.”
“It made me feel numb, the heroine made me forget all my problems! I-It took away the pain-“
“There are more productive ways to get rid of pain, for example… talking to someone, us, therapists-“
“I’m not some mental patient Jasper!….. I’m only human. I made a mistake and I’m paying for it…. What else do I have to do to get you to understand me?” I wailed.
“A lot.” He screamed before there was a long pause from both of us. “Are you clean?”
“Yes, I swear I am! I just want another chance. Please? I’m begging here, Jas.” My mind trailed off at the thought of rejection. After all they were “better off” without me, correct?
“I don’t think so Han… we are doing so well. We can’t afford to mess this up and what would we tell Mark? That we’re letting him go without any notice?! We can’t do that-“I tried my hardest to refrain from breaking down and crying as I slumped there against the wall in the fitting room; I wanted more than ever to go against all I just promised myself and instead, hit up some dealer for something to take away the heartbreak. But I was stronger than that, right? I remained silent waiting for something else to happen, anything really when it came down to it. “Where are you?”
“Arizona.”
“Yo, this is Jasper- I can’t talk right now; so leave a message and I might get back at you(Insert laughing hysterically here in the background).” I contemplated hanging up but just hearing his voice made me feel guilty. BEEP
“Hey… It’s me.” I sighed “I know I fucked up everything… and I’m sorry. I just- I- I want another chance. I’m, sorry….” I added a really quick “I’ll call you back.” Before I ripped the device away from my ear and ended the call. It was times like this that I needed that fix. My veins itched and begged for that rush; that amber colored liquid they seemed to thrive on months ago. There were no worries when I was numb and flying in the clouds. None at all.
I wiped the tear from my eye as I finished the cigarette up. I smashed it with my shoe and then picked it up, putting it in one of those garbage can lids with the dark sandy ash in it. Head down low, I made my way into the crowded mall. I tried to lay low; that was my plan anyways.
I ended up putting my hair up into a lazy looking mess of a pony-tail as I looked around the guitar center inside. It has been over a month since I picked up my instrument of choice, of trade. My fingers brushed over the bodies of the dozens lined up along the wall that were being showcased. It just made me miss my own babies all the more; it was a bitter sweet moment. I could have the most expensive guitar in the world- but it would never compare to the first one I got from my brother after his second tour right before his death. That, that is what you should consider as something special.
I stopped in front of a Gibson 50th Anniversary 1960 Les Paul. I just stood looking at it
“Awesome, isn’t it?” I flinched and looked over my shoulder to see a red-headed guy standing there with a huge goofy smile on his face.
“Sure” I nodded looking discretely at his appearance. He didn’t seem to notice though because he just walked closer and took the guitar off the wall rack for further inspection. He looked like any other band member- longer shaggy hair; but not any crazy length of hair just about 3 inches long from root to tip. Checkered shirt, form fitting jeans, converse on his feet, not to mention the latch and objects hanging loose off of one of his belt hoops on his hips- he was definitely a band guy and it was the access pass which confirmed that fact.
“I don’t know who they plan on selling it to though” He flipped over the price tag “15 thousan’ dolla’” He finished in a funny forced accented voice. I just looked at him strange before walking down one of the CD aisles, hip-hop to be exact. I was going to just leave but a picture on the front page of a magazine got my attention. Black Rose Dying was on the cover of Kerrang…
‘What. How?’ I grabbed it and flipped through the printed pages to get to the cover story.
“It was for the best” was in bold typographic letters, in quote, layered on top of the picture of the members as well as the recent “temporary” addition once I checked into rehab. Didn’t look too “temporary” in my opinion…
“For the best?” I muttered furiously underneath my breath in pure annoyance. I couldn’t believe that, this was what they truly thought about me. ‘For the fucking best? phft, please.’ I scanned through the 4 page article looking for any signs of my stage known name “Noel” (Which is also my last name mind you) and “drugs” in the same vicinity within the way too many little paragraphs… luckily there weren’t any. Although from what I got out of it, they aren’t too happy with me… they seem pissed off to the extreme. That makes 5 of us then
“Cool band, you like them?” I gave a shrug and “eh” as my reply. “I’m Eric” A hand appeared in my vision; couldn’t this guy just leave me the hell alone?
“Nice to meet you” I smiled and replied nicely. All those years of fan meet and greets with sleazy “I just want to get in your pants” over 21 year old guys had really payed off at this very moment.
“And you are?” He motioned like he was waiting, tapping his imaginary watch around his wrist as he said “tick tock tick tock” underneath his breath. His smile never left his face.
“Hanley. Okay?” I replied sarcastically before a big crash was heard as well as yelling and laughing. Both Eric and I peeked around the corner to see a whole bookcase once willed with CD’s upended on flat on the floor. CD’s pooled around in piles in a wide radius around a kid who was sitting on the floor. This kid had longer hair than Eric’s was; it was also a dirty blond color. He looked a bit like a surfer man would- flip-flop sandals, shorts and a tee; a hemp sort of necklace laying limp around his neck overtop his shirt.
“I’m going to pretend I don’t know him…” The Eric guy whispered into my ear while he stood behind me. All in all he wasn’t too incredibly tall, or much taller than I was shall I say.
“mhmm” But I got lost in the humor filled blue eyes, belonging to the guy standing across from me on the opposite side of the kid on the floor. This guy had chestnut colored hair, cropped short and he was tall, very tall (at least I thought so.) He wore a Hurley brand shirt and black skinny jeans; I tore my eyes away before getting more distracted. Without so much as another word I turned on my heel and walked out of the chaos filled store to find some relative peace and quiet. I settled with JCPenny’s handicapped fitting room. I sunk against the wall to the carpeted floor underneath me and grabbed my phone out of my pocket once more; trying again what I had done less than an hour and a half before.
“Yo, this is Jasper- I” The message cut off suddenly and a real life voice spoke groggily into the speaker. “Hanley, is that you? Hanley-“I couldn’t speak, I froze. Just like the first time I ever went on stage years ago.
“It was for the best… like you said in that interview.” I whispered softly.
“No, no it wasn’t. What you did was just plain disgusting, ignorant and hurtful! You know I had to tell everyone right? I had to tell them ALL that we couldn’t go on this HUGE ass tour because someone, meaning you, has been hooked on fucking drugs to the point where you almost died?! You died 3 fucking times, flat lined, 3 FUCKING TIMES in that hospital!” Jasper definitely seemed wide awake now. “Why wouldn’t you tell us, we could have got you help sooner-“
“It wouldn’t have mattered! Don’t you see, I would have been miserable-
“And look where it go you. You want to come back but it’s not going to fucking happen Hanley.”
“It made me feel numb, the heroine made me forget all my problems! I-It took away the pain-“
“There are more productive ways to get rid of pain, for example… talking to someone, us, therapists-“
“I’m not some mental patient Jasper!….. I’m only human. I made a mistake and I’m paying for it…. What else do I have to do to get you to understand me?” I wailed.
“A lot.” He screamed before there was a long pause from both of us. “Are you clean?”
“Yes, I swear I am! I just want another chance. Please? I’m begging here, Jas.” My mind trailed off at the thought of rejection. After all they were “better off” without me, correct?
“I don’t think so Han… we are doing so well. We can’t afford to mess this up and what would we tell Mark? That we’re letting him go without any notice?! We can’t do that-“I tried my hardest to refrain from breaking down and crying as I slumped there against the wall in the fitting room; I wanted more than ever to go against all I just promised myself and instead, hit up some dealer for something to take away the heartbreak. But I was stronger than that, right? I remained silent waiting for something else to happen, anything really when it came down to it. “Where are you?”
“Arizona.”
♠ ♠ ♠
Pt 2