Pandemonium

Despite my self-medicating, sleep didn’t come easy. I ended up tossing and turning for much of the evening and finally gave up after I reached over and saw it was six thirty in the morning.

Jailbait let out an annoyed meow as I threw back the covers, sliding out of bed and disturbing his sleeping spot as I went.

“Sorry buddy,” I whispered, reaching back to run a hand along his spine apologetically.

Shuffling sleepily into the kitchen I flicked on the light, hearing the faintest chirping of birds just outside the glass window above the sink as I took a sloppy drink from the faucet. The summer sun wasn’t rising yet although it would begin its ascent within the hour, filling the small room with beams of orange and pink as it rose slowly and warmed this side of the hemisphere. I peaked into the living room to see Novak hadn’t stuck around, getting into god knows what instead.

I didn’t have to work today and would be picking Bingo up from the airport in a few hours. She was coming home for the summer from school, so I had taken a few days off to spend some much-needed time with her.

Sighing, I stood there in the middle of the room momentarily and contemplated what exactly I was going to do until Bingo’s plane landed. Glancing around I mentally noted the mess Novak and I had made of my apartment the night before. It could use some cleaning up, that would definitely kill some time.

Bait crept up to me, obviously have given up on sleep too and began to wind himself around my legs sweetly. Picking him up and snuggling him to my chest, pondering whether I was hungry enough to make breakfast or not before I started chores. Deciding it sounded like a good idea, I put him down and proceeded to pad over to the fridge, Jailbait in tow. Pulling out a couple eggs I juggled them in one hand and grabbed a skillet, expertly cracking the shells and pouring them into the metal as it heated up slowly with a hiss.

I threw the eggshells away and reached for the small stereo that sat in the corner by the fridge. I flipped to my favorite playlist and set the music player down as ‘Black No. 1’ by Type O Negative started trickling through the speakers. The lead singer’s voice floated through the room hauntingly as the guitar picked up sharply amidst the lyrics.

I swayed my hips to the beat as I cheerfully made my breakfast, the early morning sunrays bathing the white linoleum in shades of coral and cream. Bait strode over to the patch of light filtering in through the window and plopped down unceremoniously, grooming himself with long nonchalant strokes of his pink tongue.

“Awh, are you ready to start the day too?” I inquired in a baby voice, watching him work languidly through the fur on his stomach. The sizzling of my breakfast brought my attention back to the task at hand and I quickly picked up the gelatinous masses and flipped them skillfully, placing the spatula down to grab some bread and popped it in the toaster as the eggs neared their completion. The song in the background faded out slowly only to be replaced with one by the Bloodhound Gang. I smiled to myself, wondering how Jimmy and the boys were doing. They were somewhere balls deep in the Czech Republic last time I’d checked on them.

I assembled my breakfast as I let my thoughts drift lazily. Jimmy and Jared had offered to hold Ville down and cut his and-I-quote “long pretty boy hair off” if it would make me feel better. A sharp twist of my heart followed the memory and I did my best to ignore it. The months proceeding the day we had left Finland had been rough to say the least; at one point, Bam and Missy had to quite literally drag me out of the bed to shower and go to school. She had offered to take me to counseling if I felt I needed it, but I’d refused, unwilling to do anything but wallow in self-pity. It had taken weeks to get out of bed, months to leave the house. I didn’t even go to my own high school graduation. Bingo would visit me, but she never knew what to say to me in my sensitive state.

Finally, one day Bam had said enough and told me if I was going to continue to stay there I needed to pull my head out of my ass and get over what had happened. Missy had been more sympathetic, but she agreed if only for my mental health. I’d decided at that point maybe it was time to leave the castle and that’s when I started looking at college and from there it was history. I got accepted, moved out, got my degree and here I was.

My phone chimed, breaking me of my self-induced trance and I glanced over at it in confusion. Who was up at this hour? I chuckled to myself, making a comment about my own self being awake as I picked it up to read the screen. It was Bingo, confirming her flight would be on time and she was excited to finally be home. I texted her back, relaying my own excitement and sat down at the table to eat. Poking at the hot semi liquid eggs with my fork, I watched as the gooey yellow yolk oozed out. Dipping a piece of toast into it, I quickly brought it to my mouth, savoring the taste.

Quickly scarfing down the rest, I sat back in the chair and relaxed with a small burp. Today was off to a good start, I smiled to myself. Absently running a hand through my messy hair, I decided to get a head start on sprucing up the apartment and stood to begin my chores. Pulling my sleep shorts down and fixing my dark grey cami where it had started riding up, I started piling dishes into the sink, flipping on the faucet and gathering trash and placing it into the receptacle while I waited for the water to rise.

I let my thoughts stray back to yesterday.

Ville had cut his hair. It was still shaggy but only came down just around his ears. I wondered to myself why he’d cut it. I ignored the pang of hurt in my chest. He hadn’t said a single word to me, only staring at me with those poignant green eyes, never leaving me for a moment. It irritated me to think about. He had some nerve to even look in my direction.

And yet I found myself wishing he would’ve said something, anything. There were no tears this time when I thought about our moments we had shared, only a foreign sense of longing I hadn’t felt in years.

I chose to push the feeling aside, focusing on my work. I needed to pick up Bingo soon.

***

“Oh, Bammy boy,” I called in a sing-song voice, calling for him as I strode through the house. We’d gotten back from another day of filming, finally stopping due to sheer exhaustion as the sun began going down. He’d insisted on getting back to work, despite the loss of his cat. I admired his persistence; I had told him so as we raided his fully stocked bar in the basement. I’d been sober for months until now, but I ignored that as I held a half empty bottle of champagne in my right hand, eager to reunite with my old friend alcoholism. Despite my best efforts though, I found myself once again allowing my thoughts to stray to yesterday’s events.

She hadn’t said a word to me, only occasionally allowing a sideways glance in my direction which I met every single time. I would’ve killed to be able to read her thoughts. I was completely lost for words, watching her helplessly as she walked Bam through the situation at hand. I would’ve chuckled to myself if I dared let out more than a breath, feeling like a deer in headlights every time those steely eyes met mine. I was once again stuck dumb in her presence, just like the first time I met her. I tried to distract myself in her words, although it wasn’t hard and honestly interesting to observe; she was knowledgeable and so sure of herself, her melodic voice confident and unwavering. I was trying not to shake like a leaf.

I groaned internally, begging myself to get ahold of my feelings. She’d single handedly unwound my resolve I’d built up in a matter of moments.

She was just as beautiful as the last time I saw her although I noticed on her exposed forearms, she’d begun getting tattoos. She was what now? 21-22? An assortment of sunflowers and roses on her right arm stood out, clearly fresh amidst the ensemble of various figures and designs that painted her skin. Her hair was no longer the deep burgundy I’d known but a smooth silver tone. I had secretly wondered if it still as long and silky as it was before.

I snapped out of the memory as I stepped out onto the deck, Bam and Missy were locked in an intimate embrace, Mige and Dunn playing some sort of drinking game. The rest of my band was nowhere to be seen.

“Ah, there you are,” I managed with a small hiccup, completely immune to their public display of affection. Bam broke away from Missy with a wet noise and looked up at me through half lidded eyes before giving me a slow easy grin.

“Where’d-where’d you go man?” he questioned, pushing himself up slightly to Missy’s annoyance.

“Had to find the Cham-pa-gne,” producing each syllable harshly, I sat beside them and offered the bottle to the pair who declined. I shrugged and took another long swig myself. More for me then.

“I can’t believe you’re drinking again,” Missy commented as I brought the glass bottle away from my mouth with a loud pop.

“I can. He looked like he’d seen a ghost yesterday when he saw Wynter,” Bam laughed at my expense. I gave them both a sorrowful smile.

“I might as well have,” I answered, glancing down at my shoes.

“Of all the places, why would you take him there Bam? That was so uncool. Frankly I can’t believe she didn’t punch you both as soon as she saw you,” Missy gave her husband a stern look as he ducked his head to avoid her stare like a bashful child.

“It was the closest place. I wasn’t thinking about my heart broken little cousin and Ville. I was thinking about getting my cat to the closest vet and she just so happens to work there,” he defended, glancing up at her passively as he did so. He didn’t want the fight, I half expected him to roll on his back and show his stomach in a form of submission.

I tried not to think about how he had described her as heartbroken. She certainly didn’t seem like it. Once they’d gone back to America, she had tried to contact me, but I couldn’t bring myself to answer her. She had begged for closure, but I didn’t know what to say. How was I to explain to this woman I’d fallen so helplessly in love with that just days after I’d told her I’d give her the world, I’d quite literally chickened out and ran off? How could I even begin to make her see that I was trying to protect her from me- a man who didn’t know how to love her the way she needed to be loved. She deserved so much more than that… than me. She would find happiness in another I hoped, forget all about me and what I’d done to her so selfishly. I’d allowed her to get close and pulled the rug out from under her feet. I was the worst kind of man.

“You know Ville, she cried for months after all that shit,” Missy informed. It was like she’d taken a hot knife and shoved it through my chest. I knew how she felt about me. She would probably never let me live it down.

I glanced up at her, unable to form words. ‘No, I didn’t know that’ I wanted to reply but remained silent.

“Miss, come on now leave the guy alone. Shit happens, it was years ago. Everyone has moved on,” Bam interjected, eager to break up the tension and change the subject.

But had everyone? I pondered to myself as I drowned myself in the champagne.