And it's half full.
I stare at the thing until my eyes are numb.
It was comfortable, easy, like a warm hug. Not like the physical release of sex but like the kind of sex I only see in the movies— the satisfaction of knowing somebody loves you.—
I leave it on the dresser and move into the practice room. It's bare except for a few pieces of equipment and the DIY soundproofing foam glued to the wall.
I press my back into the foam, feeling it mold around me.
If I take those pills, that's it. I'll take the rest tomorrow. I'll find more when I'm out.
There's two weeks before we're back on tour. That's two weeks to feel nothing but that warm, comfortable high...
Things are good now. I can't fuck that up. Even if it means feeling every ugly thing that comes into my brain.
Need to keep my hands busy somehow. I go to the bathroom and get back into my clothes. Now, to play.
I'm back in my practice room when my pants start buzzing. That's my phone.
Piper: I may have sung along with that CD all the way home.
For a second, I feel it, that sense that I belong somewhere. That somebody gives a fuck about me. And it's real. There's always this tinge of hollowness to a high.
But this, this is fucking real.
I need to get rid of these now. I might change my mind when I forget this feeling.
My hands are shaky as I grab the pills off my dresser and walk to the bathroom. I can barely get the cap off. It's so fucking close.
I could wash away everything that hurts...
But that will fucking ruin everything.
I turn the bottle over and watch the pills fall into the toilet. Watch them get sucked down the drain as I flush them.
I toss the bottle in the trash.
I expect to feel remorse, but I don't.
If anything, I'm relieved. The high isn't what I want. It's fake. It's hollow.
This thing with Piper is bad news.
But it's real.
And it's full.
And I'm fucked, because I really fucking like her.
Chapter 8
Piper
Nervous energy fills my stomach the closer I get to the theater. By the time I'm there, I'm shaking. It's just community theater. And I really don't have time for this play.
But I'm a woman of my word. I lost that bet to Kit. I'm auditioning for A Streetcar Named Desire.
The theater is nestled behind a set of bushes. It's in the middle of a small commercial district and its sandwiched by a bar and a restaurant. It looks more like a restaurant, really like a cute Italian restaurant in a fairytale cottage, than anything else.