Love&Drugs

3 MONTHS LATER:

Life in Arizona could be compared to that of bleeding out slowly. Torturous. Just like the current conversation.

I watch my father's lips move, no longer bother to pay attention to what he has to say. As I watch the clock on the wall tick away another minute, I decide I've had enough. Abruptly shoving my chair backwards, making a loud screech on the wooden floor, I stnd up, glaring down at my two parents.

"I am done here."

Before either of my them have time to say anything, or so much as blink, I'm up and walking away from the table. My outburst attracts attention from the rest of the people in the restaurant, servers and customers alike, but I don't give a shit. Especially since my parents do.

I fling the door open so hard it could have flung off the hinges, it doesn't, but I guarantee it was close. The Arizona heat hits me like a brick wall but I barely notice. Every part of my brain is screaming, dying for me to hit something or throw something. I manage to control the urge, however, refusing to allow my time spent in Philadelphia to take credit for that accomplishment. I crouch in the alley for a moment, resting my head on my fingers before standing up again.

Finally willing to tell myself to calm down, now that I'm away from the two people I despise the most in my life, I lean against the side of the building and fumble clumsily in my purse until I manage to find both a cigarette and my lighter. With a sigh of relief, I light up.

The first drag of nicotine is euphoric and I close my eyes as I press my head back against the wall. I stay like that for a long time, just focusing on breathing.

It's really amazing to me how two people, the very two people who created me especially, can manage to be so competely ignorant, arrogant, and absurd all at once. They are impossible, even more than they think I am. In fact, the day that I finally have what it takes to get out of Arizona once and for all will probably be the greatest day of my life. My mental "condition" isn't holding me back from anything, it's my parents and my inability to amount to anything at all.

I pace a little while longer before putting out my dying cigarette and flicking it into the gravel. Without looking back, I begin making my way down the sweltering Arizona street. I push my circle sunglasses over my eyes and then pull off my flannel shirt and tied it around my waist. My black bustier and high waisted jean shorts allow the sun to pound into my skin, but I enjoy it.

I'm not really sure where I'm walking to, but I don't really care. I just keep going, sweating more than I'd like to admit. Eventually, I approach the Crescent Ballroom, my personal favorite venue in Phoenix, and I notice the long line of teenage girls outside.

They seem to range from 13 to early 20's and I roll my eyes reflexively. I keep walking and am about to cross the street to the next block when I remember Derek, who used to work at the venue. I haven't seen him in over a year and a half, since before I left for Philadelphia and I'm not sure how he'd react to seeing me, but considering I have nothing else to do all day, it seems entertaining enough to find out.

I double back and pass all of the girls again, all of them examining me from head to toe as I pass by. I hold my head up and avoided eye contact, not willling to let any of them believe they can intimidate me. When I pass the front of the line and begin towards the doors, the girls start calling me out.

"Hey, we've been here for three hours, you can't just get in front like that."

"Yeah, I don't know who you are but-"

I ignore all of the obnoxious whines and approach the security gaurd, who looks at me with an expression like he's already set on not letting me in. I stop just in front of him, hoping that Derek still even has a job here. I clear my throat and he raises his eyebrows.

"Is Derek working today?"

Just like that, his whole attitude changes and his face noticeably relaxes.

"Yeah, he is."

I nod and rock on my heels, not sure what to say next. The security guy looks at me through narrowed eyes, waiting for me to continue.

"I'm an old... friend. Can you get him for me or let me in?"

The security gaurd looks at me for a moment, seemingly trying to judge what I'm up to, but after a moment he nods.

"What's your name?"

"Alice Bennet." I tell him, watching as he raises a walkie talkie to his lips.

"Yo, Derek, you know someone named Alice Bennet?" I hold my breath as there's a long pause. If there was anyway I'd been hoping to surprise my old (and hopefully still) best friend, this wasn't it. I hold my breath until his voice comes back through the static.

"Yeah." His voice seems hesitant, almost as a question, but the security guard doesn't care. He nods to me and steps aside, letting me into the building. I can't resist glancing back as I step inside, taking in all the girls who are now buzzing, trying to figure out who I am and if I'm with the band. I smirk to myself.

I walk slowly through the front of the venue, pushing my sunglasses on top of my head to take in the familiar decor. I hadn't been here in a long time and now the nostalgia is nearly overwhelming. I'm looking at a signed Brand New poster when I hear a familiar voice.

"Alice?"

I spin around, finding Derek walking towards me with wonder written all over his face. Through highschool, he was the kid that was always by my side. Through it all, we had each other's backs. Now, it's weird to think of how much time has passed since I last saw him. Especially since my last visit ended in a fight.

My lips pull into a sheepish, crooked smile and Derek, to my surprise, grins like the Cheshire cat, letting out a loud hoot.

"Dude!" He laughs, jogging the last few steps before pulling me into a big hug. I squeeze him back and chuckle under my breath when he picks me up so that my feet leave the ground. I can barely breathe through his tight grip but I don't care, this is Derek. My Derek.

"Ah, Kid, I haven't seen you in forever! I kept waiting for you to come around but you didn't so I wasn't sure if you were even back yet. But damn, I should have just stormed up to that mansion of yours and forced your parents to tell me. When did you get back?"

He was talking really fast, like he always did when he's excited and I laugh, the first real laugh I've had in a while, shaking my head. Derek sets me down and holds me at arms length, taking in my appearance earnestly.

"They released me a little over two months ago," I tell him, looking over his appearance as well. His hair is shorter and he has more muscles, the kind that make his shoulders and biceps bulge through his t-shirt, but he's still the guy I know.

"And it took you this long to come see me?" he asks, stopping mid examination to pretend to be hurt. I roll my eyes. Derek smiles at that and pulls me into his side, walking further into the venue in the process.

"You look great, Al." He says, squeezing my side.

I mutter a thanks and he laughs.

By this point we'd made it onto the floor just in front of the stage and as I look around, I notice some guys setting up equipment. I watch them curiously, taking in their tattoos and lack of flashy clothing before looking over at Derek in curiousity.

"Who's playing tonight?"

"Some locals. They call themselves 'The Maine'," he explains, now looking up at the stage with me.

"Never heard of them," I say. Derek nods in agreement.

"Are they any good?" I ask after a pause. Someone calls Derek's name and he glances behind us, waving at whoever it was before turning back to me.

"Haven't heard 'em play yet. But, hey, I gotta get back to work. You can hangout here if you want, I should be able to sneak away soon. Don't go anywhere. We have lots of catching up to do." He winks at me suggestively and I laugh, shoving his shoulder as he backs away. I forgot what it felt like to actually hang out with someone. I have missed it.

Once he's gone, I turn back to the band on stage. It appears as though they're about to soundcheck so I take a seat at the bar out of curiousity. The bartender gives me a water and I nod in thanks, quickly looking back at the stage when a guitar riff sings through the speakers.

"Dude, Garrett, you look like someone pooped you out of their ass," says a short, thin guy with large biceps as he sits down at the drums, laughing when a guy with long, unkept brown hair flicks him off.

"Fuck you, man. I just took a nap," the other shoots back. I watch as the fifth member joins the rest on stage, this one presumably the singer. His movements seem vaguely familiar to me but I don't know where from. Since the crew is adjusting the lighting I know the band won't see me sitting and watching them, and that makes me feel more comfortable.

After a few more moments of screwing around, they finally begin to play and I'm more than surprised by what I hear. They're good.

I don't know any of their songs but I enjoy listening to them and when they start playing a Nirvana cover just for fun I like them even more. They seem like really cool guys and in my highschool years, I probably would have been in that long line of girls outside too. Time passed quickly from the bar stool and before I knew it, Derek was back and tugging on my arm. He led me up to the roof and we both leaned against the side, staring down at the line below.

"So, how are you, really?" Derek asks seriously, looking at me with concern but not sympathy. I always appreciated that; Derek has never pittied me.

I shrug in response but I do it knowing he won't just let it go. Derek scoffs and nudges me with his shoulder, shaking his head.

"You know that shit isn't gonna work with me. What's going on, Alice?"

I take a deep breath and look out across Phoenix, all of the lights beginning to be turned on as darkness settles over the city.

"Life feels like a Lifetime movie... and somehow that's a lot less fun than it sounds," I tell him, smiling gently to lighten the mood. Derek, however, doesn't respond, just waits for me to explain. I shrug again, this time in defeat.

"Ever since I got back from Philly, I've been searching for some way to get back on my feet and it just doesn't work. It's funny, too, because everybody seems to be more bothered that I'm Bipolar than I am and I'm the one who has to live with it," I say, bitterness riddling my words.

Derek stares at me a moment before wrapping an arm around my shoulders.

"This isn't the end, Alice. You have your whole life ahead of you. Don't fool yourself into thinking that this is how things will always be, because that's not life," he tells me.

I don't reply but as simple as they are, his words manage to make me feel better. Just the logical reminder is all I ever needed.

"Oh and speaking of my problems, I had lunch with my parents today," I say, looking at Derek in amusement.

"Oh? and how was that?" he asks, a mischeivious smile already sliding across his face.

"I'd say it was about the usual. I did storm out though, that was kind of fun."

Derek laughs and rubs my arm.

"So what about you? What have I missed around here?" I ask, looking up at him. Derek thinks for a moment.

"Not as much as you'd think. I've been promoted to head of security here but that's about it. Oh, and I bought an apartment." He shrugs and I nod.

I'm about to apologize, for that night so many months ago when I'd fought with him then got shipped off to the east coast, but just as I'm about to bring it up, his walkie talkie begins to beep and he groans. He pulls it off of his belt and presses in the button, holding the speaker to his lips.

"What?"

"We have a situation." The voice comes back a little out of breath and Derek shoots me an apologetic look before pressing his hand to his forehead and heading for the stairs.

"Fine, I'm coming."

He disappears in the blink of an eye, leaving me on the roof of the Crescent Ballroom alone. I stand, just breathing in the darkness, for a little while longer before I hear the music below me.

I get to the bottom of the stairs leading from the roof before I realize I have no idea how to get to the stage of the venue. I begin to wander down the dimly lit hallway, just strolling along, until I finally run into a guy. He's well built with dark hair and V-neck on. I grab his arm as he is about to walk by and he stops in surprise.

"Where's the stage?" My voice is back to it's usual curt, cold tone now that Derek is gone and the guy seems a little shocked.

"Uh, it's straight ahead to the right. If you don't mind me asking, why are you back here?"

I look at him with crossed arms for a moment.

"My friend works here and I was hanging out with him but now he's busy so I want to watch the show," I say as a-matter-of-factly before turning to walk down the hallway like he'd said. I think I must have really stunned him because it takes him a minute before he moves to follow me.

"I'm Tim, The Maine's manager," he says, following me. I slow my walking slightly but don't respond.

"Do you like their music?" he asks, his voice loud yet simultaneously friendly.

"I've never heard it," I respond after a minute, deciding to leave out that I'd spied in on their soundcheck.

He seems to think for a moment before speaking up again.

"Would you like to watch from side stage? It'd be a lot less cramped than the main floor."

At that, I pause. I turned back and looked at him for a moment before slowly nodding, figuring he was right and it would be a lot less uncomfortable and sweaty. He flashes me a smile that I don't return before leading me into a different hallway.

After a couple turns, we enter the backstage area. Tim offers me a place just where the curtains on the side end and I take it without a word, now enthralled in the band that's playing. They sound even better than their soundcheck and I examine each of the members as they play. When I finally come to the singer, I am struck with that reoccurring sense of deja vu again and I stare at him in confusement. How do I know him?

I stand there for another five songs until the band finally says goodnight and exit the stage towards where I'm standing. I feel a moment of panic, unsure of how to present myself, but Tim is immediately at my side. The guys all pause when they notice me, taking me in with curious expressions.

"Guys, this is..." Tim looks at me, suddenly realizing he hadn't caught my name. Just as I open my mouth to reply, someone else shocks the hell out of me by saying,

"Alice".

I snap my head up, my eyes meeting green ones that burn with an overwhelmingly familiar sense of depth. My eyes run over his face before it finally hits me. Airplane Boy.

"John."