Mess You Made

Alex—

After dropping Zack off at his hotel, I make a U-turn to go in the direction of my house. My fingers gripped the steering wheel a little harder than I intended as I once again feel the burn of the object stuffed into my right pocket.

How?

That's all I want to know. Well, and just—why? How and why? Where did it come from? How did it get here? Why is it here? I shake my head to clear my vision.

It took me a good twenty minutes to get back home, but when I do, I quickly park my car in my garage before booking it inside my house. I switch the lights on as I make my way to the kitchen, removing my leather jacket along the way and throwing it over the back of one of the dining room chairs. It wasn't until I got to the kitchen that I finally took the ring out of my pocket.

I put it up to the light to look at the engraving.

Naissent libres.

It was Sadie's. It's hers. Her ring that I picked up off the floor in the studio that I am now holding that came from nowhere. Why the hell was it on the studio floor?

I bring the ring back down and roll it between my fingers. I swallow, realizing a large lump had inserted itself in my throat. I pull a hand back through my hair. Wild conclusions ran through my head. Maybe it was in the studio...

Is she back?

No, no that can't be it. If she were back I would know about it. If she came back she would at least have the decency to tell me. Or, I would like to think she would. But...what if she is back but didn't tell me? What if she came back and told...Jack? And she came to see him at the studio and somehow her ring got left behind? Or, or...

I grit my teeth. No, calm down.

Don't get worked up over something you don't know. Maybe this is all just a misunderstanding. Maybe someone else has a ring just like Sadie's and they dropped it or...

I groan. I know that's not the truth. I just don't want it to be true that something is going on. Maybe she gave it back to Jack and he has kept it all this time and accidentally left it behind at the studio today? I nod. That has to be it. And should I give it back to him?

No. No I shouldn't.

I roll my eyes. Now I'm just acting childish. I'll give it back to him the next time I see him.

Okay, let's be honest, Alex. You're not gonna give it back to him. You want to remember her so bad and you finally have something that was hers and you don't want to give it up...

I shake my head for what felt like the hundredth time tonight. I'll do what I feel is right when I get to it. I slip the ring onto my pinkie, since her delicate fingers were much smaller than mine, and immediately feel a thousand miles closer to her. Where ever she is, I suddenly felt like she was next to me, her body inches from mine.

I close my eyes and inhale.

I can almost smell her lotion.

I snap out of it as I hear the phone ring. I walk over and pick it up, seeing it was Mike calling me. "Green," I greet, going over to my fridge. "What's up?"

"Hey, Gas-mask," he says, using the rare nickname I despised. "Did you get your notebook finally? I went in to see if you had gotten but instead—"

"Yeah, I got it," I reply as I grab my carton of milk. "Why?"

"Well, when I went to see if you had gotten it, because you tend to leave it a lot," he snorts, "I saw someone reading it. I assumed they were there to pick it up for you, but they looked a little confused. She was reading your lyrics for the album—"

The carton slips out my hand, hitting the counter as white liquid covers the floor. "Someone was reading it? A she?"

"Yeah," he says, a confused tone to his voice. "I left 'cause I thought she came to get it for you."

"A...a she?" I repeat again, my heart pounding so loud it was deafening.

I hear Mike give out an aggravated sigh. "Yes, a she. She was just reading it, all by herself in the studio. I don't know how she got in, but whatever. Why? Did you not send her to come get it for you? I just thought—"

I don't even let him finish. "What did she look like?"

"I don't know, I—"

"What did she look like?" I know I sounded desperate, but if what I was thinking was true...

I could hear him swallow. "Uh, I, uh...she was kind of auburn-haired with long choppy bangs and looked a little like—" That's all I needed to hear before I was hanging up. I end my call with Mike before I quickly dial Jack, the first time I'd called him purposely in about seven months. He answered at the absolute last minute.

"What do you want?" he asks, sounding angry and groggy at the same time.

"Do you know about this?" I ask, my breathing ragged.

He takes a moment. "Know about what? That's kind of vague, you shit." I ignore his pathetic insult as I grip onto my counter until it cut into my palms.

"Do you know where Sadie is?" I finally ask, looking down at her ring.

"No," he growls. "Why are calling me about her? The last thing I want to talk to you about right now is her, okay? So if you could—"

"Never mind," I mutter. "Bye."

I hang up on him as well. I look over at the mess of milk. Maybe Mike was wrong. Or maybe I was just jumping to conclusions again. Maybe it wasn't Sadie. Maybe it was just some curious studio-worker who happened upon my notebook and wanted to read the lyrics. Maybe it was a random fan. I just want it to be Sadie.

I shake my head. I'm going to clean up the milk, go to bed, and not think about her until tomorrow...

Or maybe I'll just clean up the milk and go to bed.

It only took five minutes to clean up the milk before I was walking upstairs. I don't even bother changing and just fall onto my bed, burying my face in my pillow and closing my eyes.

It took me another five minutes before I realized that I was not going to be getting sleep.

All I could think about was her. What if she was here? What if she had, for some unknown reason, been at the studio? What if she had read my lyrics? What if she had then left but dropped her ring on the way out? What if she is here, in Maryland?

If she is, she obviously doesn't want me to know.

But why? Wouldn't she have returned to see me? Wouldn't have returned to see...someone? If not me then...then Jack? She came back to see Jack?

I sit up on my elbows. I don't know anything. Stop jumping to conclusions, Alex. I shake my head as I sit fully up on the edge of my bed, running my hands down my face. I'm not going to get a wink of sleep tonight.

I get to my feet, suddenly glad I was still in my clothes so I could just leave.

A few minutes later, I was locking my house and getting in my car. I pull out of my driveway and speed off, not knowing where I was going. I passed by the studio, Zack's hotel, Jack's house, and many other places. I pass by Rian's house next, glancing at it just like I did the other places. I debated going in to hang out, much like I did with the other places too (except for Jack's), before deciding against it. I wasn't in the mood to see the happy couple.

I drove and drove and drove before pulling into a Starbucks. I had my notebook, which I knew I would be needing because it seemed like one of those all-nighters for writing. Good thing this Starbucks stays open late.

I park and walk in, tucking my notebook under my arm.

"Alex!" the girl at the counter greets. Her name is Marnie and she seems to be working every time I come in. "How's it going?" I hear the usual scraping of chairs and pouring of coffee.

"Good," I smile blandly. "Can I get my latte?"

She grins. "Yeah! One sec."

I give another grimace before I start looking around the shop. My eyes pass over empty booths, men with laptops, and teenagers before they come upon by the outside patio. Tonight was a nice night to be sitting outside, so I decide I would sit out under the stars darted here and there to write. The air might clear my head a bit too.

I see a few people outside as well, a couple holding hands and sharing a frappuccino, and a lone figure sitting at a table by the fountain. It seemed deserted enough for me to get some peace.

"Thanks," I say after paying, grabbing my coffee. Marnie gives me that smile again before I walk off.

I open the door and breathe in the smell of cigarette smoke mixed with the freshness of outside air. The lone figure was the one smoking, which I hate the scent of, so I find a table as far from them as possible. Their back was to me, their hair tucked up under a beanie. I wrinkle my nose, trying my best to ignore them.

I open my notebook and grab my pen. I take a small sip of my coffee, enjoying the temporary warmth it brought me. I close my eyes and try to clear my brain of all thoughts.

Minutes later I open them, not even noticing that the couple had left and it was just me and the lone stranger.

I don't give it any thought as I look down at the blank sheet of paper open in front of me. I write a few words on the first few lines. A chime goes off in the distance. I write a few more lines. No, that doesn't work. I take another drink of my caffeine. A few more words before I am crossing them out again. The other person outside shifts in their chair. A the here and a that here. I grip the pen a bit too hard. I catch the eye of her ring on my pinkie. It glinted dully under the small light connected to the wall. A moth fluttered around it. The person's phone begins to ring.

I break out of my peaceful reverie at the buzzing, huffing out a sigh. I run a hand through my hair as I look at my newly written lyrics. Some were choppy, but for the most part, it flowed pretty well. I give this work a B-plus.

I hear the person's hushed tones as they talk. I couldn't hear what they said, but I am surprised to realize it's a girl. Oh. I shrug and look back at my work.

"No," she murmurs. I crunch my brows together. "Just wanted some space."

The person on the other side of her line speaks. This girl seemed sad. I shake my head. It's not your problem, Alex. You're sad too. I grasp my pen more firmly.

"No, Ri, I'm fine," she insists more quietly. Another ping of familiarity hits me in the chest. "No, no. I'll come back later. Tell her not to worry...I'm not self-harming!" she hisses this last part. "I did it once and fuck, I'm not gonna do it again." Once again, I felt the need to go over to her. Is she okay? "You can check when I come back, all right?"

The person speaks again. The girl sighs. "Bye."

Then she was hanging up and it was silent again. I clear my throat and she jumps a bit. She brings out a cigarette and lights it but doesn't say anything. I bite my bottom lip and write a few more words, the sound of her lighter and the scratch of my pen being all that is heard.

Finally, I am compelled to speak. "You okay?" I ask quietly, so quiet I didn't even recognize my voice.

It took her a good 30 seconds before she answers, coughing a bit as she blows smoke out. I ignore the disgusting habit. "Yeah," she mumbles. "Just...overwhelmed."

"Tell me about it," I respond, cracking a very tiny smile.

She shakes her head, sucking smoke in again. I wanted her to turn around, but she stays with her back to me. "Too long of a story," she says again. I once again felt like I knew her. Or at least, she reminded me of someone. "The gist? I'm a horrible person."

"Ha," I bark out. "Story of my life."

We fall silent again. She continues with her cigarette while I continue writing out words. I had a sudden boost of inspiration. I was almost done with this song. What? "So...why are you alone at Starbucks at 10 p.m.?"

She sighs, turning her face up at the sky. I get a very small glimpse of a button nose and a pair of pale-pink lips. Familiarity itches at me again. "Once again, long story."

I nod. "I got time."

I could just hear her smirk. "We just met. You'll think pretty lowly of me."

"Hm," I hum, setting my pen down. "Try me. I think pretty lowly of myself these days." I could tell by her posture that she was hesitating, before I see her shoulders tense as she stubs out her cigarette. I cross my arms over my chest to see what she would do.

Finally, she turns a bit. She stops before she can look at me and I can see her fully. "Look, Al—sir, maybe we should call it a night."

"We have awhile before we can," I reply. "Just talk to me. I could use a companion."

Once again, I could just tell she was cracking a sad smile. "I'm the last person you want to talk to."

I felt very small suddenly. I could only see part of her face, the nose and the lips again, but then her voice became louder, loud enough for me to recognize. And then, she was turning, turning so I could see all of her, and that's when my heart dropped. My eyes widen and my stomach flaps about. It was her. It was her. And we were talking. Talking like human beings and she was smiling at me, a sad, very sad smile that hit me straight in the chest.

She had known she was talking to me by the look on her face, the whole time. She recognized my voice. How did I not recognize hers?

"God," I splutter out, my throat going dry. "Sadie."