Forever & Always.

I had to get away from the table before they returned. Frank's new friend,  May , reminded me far too much of  her . The way she smiled awkwardly at us all, and those stormy grey eyes that attempted to bury away all her emotions but seemed to fail and displayed clearly her shock at our appearance. 

The bar was busy but I pushed my way to the front, ordering myself two Jägerbombs and downing them quickly, feeling the alcohol burn down the back of my throat. I needed to forget  her .  Everything about her. I handed the barman enough money to cover another two shots, knowing they'd help blur my mind for the rest of the night. 

I stumbled my way to the dance floor. My body pressing tightly up against others. Male or female, it didn't matter to me, they all resembled  her . It was just one of those nights where everyone reminded me of her in some way - regardless of their sex. There was the handsome guy whose eyes made me think of her, though his were more a light shade of blue than grey. I leaned down and kissed him, only to  be let down when his lips felt nothing like what I'd hoped for. They were chapped and rough - nothing like Ciara's. The guy stared after me, two of his fingers on his bottom lip and eyes wide, as I pushed away from him and into the crowd. 
Something was pressed into my hand. I smiled when I looked down and saw a small white pill resting in the centre of my pale palm. I swallowed it, wincing at that horrible lump I get at the back if my throat when I dry-swallow tablets. Just one pill and I knew I could fly high all night, numb to the ache in my heart. It was hypocritical, I'd always told people that drugs weren't the answer, yet here I was, doing the exact opposite of what I'd always said. I needed them to escape. Just for a little while. Tomorrow morning I'd suffer for my stupidity, but in that moment, I just didn't care. 

A shock of purple hair caught my attention and I ran after it, only to be filled with disappointment when I saw it belonged to a girl of only about eighteen - too young to be Ciara. The girl smiled seductively at me and I let myself be draw in close by her hands. She wasn't Ciara. But, with my eyes shut and a body full of alcohol and drugs, I could pretend she was. Just for the night. Just to have some happiness, if only for a couple of hours. Even if it wasn't real. 



My head rested on something cold and hard - definitely not a pillow. I forced my body to sit up, my back screaming in protest at being made stay in such an uncomfortable slumped position for so long. 
I blinked my eyes a few times, a white light blinding me and making my head begin to throb. Soon, I could open my eyes without wanting to gouge them out with my hands. After a quick look around I could tell I was in the white bathroom that belonged to my hotel room. My head had been resting against the pale blue porcelain toilet seat, obviously having passed out after emptying my stomach of its contents. 
The acidic smell of vomit and urine hung in the air and I knew it was due to me. My hair hung in greasy curtains on either side of my face and I could instantly tell that I'd been too drunk to pull it back as I puked, the hardened clumps making me feel nauseous all over again. 
I coughed and tasted stale alcohol mixed with bile in my mouth. The sink was close by so I got up and turned on the faucet, cupping water in my hand and slurping it up rather noisily. Afterwards, I still felt disgusting so I brushed my teeth before turning on the shower and stepping in under the piping hot spray, eager to try and scrub away my shame and self-loathing. I hated myself and everything I was doing. My self-destructive ways were just a slow form of suicide, but i couldn't find the willpower to stop myself from continuing down this road. Not without  her by my side. When she was with me I felt strong enough to take on the world. But she'd never be by my side again. She was gone.  Forever . 

The shower did nothing to soothe my aching head so as soon as I got out I went in search of painkillers. There, on the little desk in the corner of the room, was the familiar little white bottle. Painkillers had become as necessary as coffee in my morning routine. 
I shook the bottle until two of the little white pills fell into my palm. The sight caused a hazy memory from last night to come to me and I tried to shrug off the fact that I had taken ecstasy off a stranger - it's not like it was an irregular occurrence. I dry-swallowed the pills - too lazy to get myself a glass of water - and they grated against my dry throat making me cough. 
Knowing the little tablets would take a little while to get to work, I decided to sit down and relax for a bit. I pulled out the padded wooden chair and plopped myself down, sighing tiredly. The table before me was covered in candy wrappers and empty Starbucks coffee cups. I had refused housekeeping the last few mornings and it was starting to become evident. I made to sweep the trash off the desk and into the bin that lay next to me, but a white piece of notebook paper caught my eye. It had words scrawled upon it in my handwriting but I didn't recognise it. I grabbed it and tried to understand the messier than usual writing. The paper smelled of Jack Daniels and I guessed that I must have written it whenever I had gotten in the night before/this morning. 

Can't find my way home,
But it's through you and I know, 
What I'd do just to get back in her arms. 
Can't find my way home,
But it's trough you and I know, 
What I'd do just to get back in her arms. 
I can't find the way! 
I can't find the way! 
I can't find the way! 
I can't find the way! 
I can't find the way! 
I can't find the way!
Come on Angel, don't you cry!
Come on Angel, don't you cry!
Come on Angel, don't you cry!
Come on Angel, don't you cry!

Instantly I knew who I had written that about. Even in my drunken state I had missed Ciara. 
My heart began to ache and tears pricked at the back of my eyes, making them burn. I missed her. I had missed her ever since I'd left her back in New Jersey when the guys and I left to go on our first tour. I'd been young and stupid, believing it was better to not contact her at all rather than to make her feel left out. I had been so stupid! And now, I was paying the price. 

"I miss you Ciara," I mumbled, tracing my fingers over the words I had written during my drunken despair. "I still love you Angel."

Closing my eyes an pinching the bridge of my nose, I exhaled loudly, wishing the pain in my heart would go away. I couldn't continue living like this for much longer.