Fashion Statements Are Just Advertised Addictions

I was not allowed inside of Kayden's room. A brunette nurse stood with me in the waiting room, and I could hear his wracking sobs from floors below. Two nurses had went inside with him, one with a needle, which I disapproved of with a passion. However, when I opened my mouth, the nurse glared at me coldly and said, "I wouldn't have to do this if it weren't for you."

I thought about that for a few minutes. She was completely right, and I felt like killing myself for it.

The brunette nurse looked around vacantly as though nothing interesting were happening as I shifted restlessly in my seat, waiting to eavesdrop when the two nurses came down with Kayden's report. It had already been forty-five minutes of nonstop screams and cries. It was almost like something out of a horror movie.

I must have drifted off, because I awoke to a redheaded nurse very close to my face, "Up you little weasel. No sleeping in the waiting room."

I looked around the room, and it was considerably darker outside the plexiglass windows. The screams and cries had seemed to stop and I figured that one of the nurses finally tranquilized him. I felt a pain in my heart. Someone so perfect didn't deserve such torture.

"When can I see him?" I asked, still half asleep, not thinking about what I was saying.

"You are banned from his room until he says otherwise, got it? Even then, all conversations will be monitored," the redheaded nurse spat, "so you might as well get back home."

I inhaled and exhaled deeply, shaking my head.

"That was not a suggestion."

I stood and glared at her, slowly making my way out the door, sliding my cell phone out of my pocket to call Derek.

"They kicked you out?" Derek asked me on the way to his apartment.

"Yeah. I didn't think they could even do that."

"Neither did I," he said, turning the steering wheel so he could get onto the expressway.

I turned up the radio, trying to drown out my sorrows, wishing only to have Kayden safe in my arms, happy and unharmed. I felt tears run down my cheeks, but I stayed silent and looked out the window to make sure Derek couldn't tell I was crying.

The horizon brightened by moonlight. The road with heavy traffic seemed a blur as thoughts rushed through my head. I wished Derek kept syringes in the car, because at this moment either that or Kayden were the only things able to clear my thoughts, and it was obvious I wasn't getting the latter any time soon. I stared out the window as a Suburban pulled up beside us in the right lane, keeping our same speed. A girl in the backseat looked at me, her eyes filled with sadness. I wondered if she was in a similar situation as mine, but my thoughts were overcame by doubtfulness. What were the chances she was a teenage model who met a beautiful, amazing boy in a mental ward, fell in love with them, had to fake her love for her drug-dealing boyfriend, witness a murder, get caught cheating, and then not be allowed to see her love? The odds were slim.

Derek took our exit, the Suburban passing him, a few drivers in the right lane flipping him off for not using his blinker and taking the exit without going into the right lane. He sighed and looked over at me, "You okay, Tre?"

"Fine," I assured him, "Don't worry about me."

He sighed, "It's hard not to, sometimes."

I ignored the comment as he made his way towards our apartment. I followed him to the penthouse, looking around. Luggage and boxes were lying around the living room and it occurred to me those were my things.

"Thanks," I mumbled, "for packing for me."

"Not a problem," he said, though I could hear the hurt in his voice. He went to the kitchen and listened to the answering machine. Two of them wanted his services immediately and the last one was from Brenda, a woman that I did photoshoots with occasionally.

I sighed heavily, forgetting about work almost completely. I could not balance moving out, weaning myself off of heroin, photoshoots, and trying to win Kayden's heart over all at once. I looked at my bleach-blond ex-lover and sighed. Life was so hard.

"I feel you, love."

I ignored the pet name, not wanting to start a fight on top of all of my problems. Derek sighed and walked out of the kitchen. I splashed my face with water, my makeup running down my cheeks.

I walked to the living room, expecting I would be taking the couch, but Derek had already done so.

He looked up and smiled weakly, "I figured you need a good night's rest so I let you have the bed."

I nodded, "Thank you."

I made my way to the bedroom, tempted to walk in the bathroom and shoot a dose of my secondary addiction into my arm, but I held myself back and crawled beneath the covers. Images of Kayden went through my mind. His smiles, his tears. I felt like slapping myself as I realized the images of his tears were my own doing.

I had to fix this.