Hazed

by Nicole Howard

  “Absolutely!” A one-word answer was all that I needed. “I will let you know when I can get a sitter.”

  “That sounds great. Can I call you sometime?” Luke leaned down to kiss my cheek. I nodded my head and programmed my number into his phone.

  “I had an amazing time Luke. I will see you Monday.” I gave him my biggest smile and batted my lashes, before unlocking my door and leaving him in the hallway.

  Maggie jumped me as I walked through the threshold. I had expected questions, many, many questions, but I had mistakenly thought she would have been patient enough to wait until I made it through the door. I wasn’t that lucky.

  “How did it go?” She was full of anticipation, her hands waving around as started her interrogation. “Are you going out again? Did you have fun? What did you do? Did he kiss you?”

  “Please calm down Mags.” As much as I loved her, I really couldn’t handle her at that moment. I took off my jacket and threw it on the back of the couch, kicking off my shoes while trying to compose myself. “I’m just going to change, and then I will tell you everything.” My tone must have been reassuring as it seemed to pacify her.

  She bowed her head in defeat and made her way over to the couch. Similar to my usual nightly routine, I threw on a pair of cotton shorts and a tank top, this time listening to Maggie’s foot tap against the floor. My shorter hair barely held in the elastic I had used to pull it into a ponytail, strands falling pointlessly around my face. I pushed the pieces back, tucking them unsuccessfully behind my ears as I removed the thick layer of makeup from my face. When I finally felt ready, I walked back into the living room. I sat down on my faded black couch, pulling a throw pillow onto my lap, giving me tassels to busy my fingers with, keeping my anxiety at bay. “It went well.”

  “How well?” she probed, moving closer to me.

  “I think we’re going to go out again if that answers your question.” I looked down at the pillow and separated a tassel into three sections. I started braiding the section, waiting for more questions.

  “That’s awesome.” She beamed, clearly delighted with that news. “Did he kiss you?” We might as well have been teenagers at an all girl slumber party. Maggie was playing the character of a fifteen-year-old virgin, as opposed to her relatively mature age of twenty-five.

  “Sort of.” I continued braiding. “I think he would of if I had of given him the go ahead.” I tightened the braid. “He kissed me on the cheek.” I added, not leaving her empty handed.

  “Awe, that is just too sweet.” She hummed, “So another date. When?”

  “When I am able to find someone to watch Kenzie,” I replied. “I think we are going to go rollerblading, at least he mentioned it.”

  “I can watch her, Ally.” Maggie didn’t hesitate. “I bet he thought you looked really adorable!”

  “Only if you want to watch her. I feel bad asking you to watch her so I can go out. I think the outfit went over well.” She deserved the credit when it came to that.

  “It’s settled then. I will watch Kenzie, and you can get to know Luke on a more personal level. If you know what I mean.” Maggie concluded, with a poorly executed wink.

  Oh, I knew what she meant, and while I wasn’t sure if I was ready for anything, I couldn’t dispute that this was a new beginning.

  Chapter 2

  Residue

  Room 435 was empty and cold. Her clothes were gone; her suitcase was gone, she was gone. All that remained was a note. A single piece of paper. Her handwriting was shaky, barely legible, but the words were clear.

  Tim,

  I love you.

  Ally

  Words she had never uttered before. I didn’t understand. If she loved me, why would she leave? It was surreal, the entire notion of her non-existence, of our non-existence. I sat on the bed and waited, waited for her to walk through the door. She would walk in laughing at her unamusing practical joke. That had to be what this was, a cruel joke. So I waited, but the hours passed, and the door never opened.

  My fumbling hands guided my gold credit card across the wooden surface of the hotel nightstand, lining the white powder with practiced ease. My movements were rehearsed as I rolled a hundred-dollar bill and hovered above the strip, preparing for the painful burn. When had I become such a cliché? I lost my focus, as the bill fell onto the cocaine, breaking the perfect line sending the powder into chaos.

  “How perfect,” I mumbled. Symbolic? Maybe. Coincidence? Probably. For some reason, the imagery settled deep into my core, how quickly one object could fall out of place and destroy everything else. It seemed pointless to realign the residue. Symbolism or not, I wasn’t willing to realign the residue in my life. It wasn’t residue. She would be back. She had to come back.

  “Tim!” My name rang loudly in my ears. “Tim!” The voice was panicked. “I think he overdosed.” Quick, urgent words.

  I didn’t overdose… Did I? I guess that would explain it all. A bad trip would have caused me to envision the deepest, darkest of all hells. She wasn’t really gone; she was still here. It was the drug, my imagination running wild under its influence.

  “Tim!” My body rocked rigidly back and forth. “Wake up now, or we’re calling an ambulance.” This voice was angry, not panicked. I preferred the panic. “Do you want the tabloids to get a hold of this?”

  No. No, I wouldn’t embarrass Ally in that way. I wouldn’t embarrass our band that way. Wake up, damn it. Open your eyes. My body wasn’t responding to my command. Wake up. She’ll be there.

  “What?” My lungs felt heavy, the words groggily making their way past my lips. Ian’s face was blurred, even as my eyelids receded.

  “You need to clean up this mess.” His fingers pointed to the powdered carpet. Ian may only be two years my senior, at twenty-seven, but at that moment his face was drained. Worry lines creased the surface, remnants of the stress I just caused.

  “Ugh, so I didn’t overdose.” That fact served as an overwhelming disappointment. If I hadn’t touched the cocaine, then the truth was evident. Ally was gone; really gone.

  “You say that like it’s a bad thing.” Ian brushed the remaining white dust off the nightstand.

  “It might as well be.” I swung my heavy legs off the bed and dropped to the floor, fighting the urge to snort the coke off the carpet. That could numb the pain, but touching it would mean acknowledging the residue, and that I would never do. Instead, I forced the mess into the carpet, for safe hiding. Ian helped. Despite his hatred for the control the drug had over my life, he loved me too much to let this secret get out.

  “What happened?” His tone remained harsh, but his eyes were full of sincerity. “Ally’s not here.”

  “I don’t know.” My response was muttered. I didn’t know. There was nothing left of her, no actual explanation, just this stupid note. A crumpled piece of paper shoved deep into my pocket. Three little words that were keeping me alive.

  “We have to go.” Ian threw my remaining clothing into a pile on top of my suitcase. “Hurry up. Justin’s waiting outside.”

  Justin had zero patience for my life choices. If Ian’s support didn’t lie with me, Justin would have kicked me out of the band six months ago. Hazed was his life, and the music controlled Justin’s every decision. To him, my drug use and addiction to Ally proved my disloyalty to our career. I was a traitor in his eyes, and honestly, I couldn’t blame him for seeing me this way.

  Justin was young but dedicated. He was twenty-one and wanted everything from life. Nothing was going to stop him from reaching his goals. He updated his hair style every month, added tattoos to his forearms, and remained single all to catch and keep the attention of our female fans. He lived his life in the public eye.

  “Let’s go then.” I sighed heavily, opening the suitcase and stuffing the pile inside. I pushed my weight against the top and forced the zipper around the track. This was a sick joke; it had to be. She was hiding, somewhere.

  Every minute seemed like hours as the days p
assed, each performance became unbearable, dissatisfying. I had never hated music until my life was empty, and yet the music was now all I had. Ian and Justin tried to understand; they tried to help fill the gaping hole in my heart. It didn’t help. Nothing helped.

  I had never fully appreciated the impact Ally had on my life until it was too late. The list of possible reasons for her leaving was endless, and not a day went by that I didn’t think of something else to add to the list. I was too consumed with my career, unable to spend enough time with her. I was a cocaine addict, leading her down the same path of destruction that had been her childhood. I wasn’t successful enough. I wasn’t famous enough. I didn’t love her enough, even though I thought that impossible, I had never said the words. She never knew I loved her.

  I wanted closure, but instead, the hole in my heart only grew. I tried to prevent the thoughts, but it was impossible. I couldn’t ignore the only thing that made me happy, even if the memories caused more pain than pleasure.

  Every hour seemed like days as the weeks passed. My hope drowned as Ally’s presence faded into little more than a distant memory. Writing became my solution to clearing my mind. It allowed some semblance of normality and a way to keep her memory alive without wallowing in self-pity.

  Love to you was a game,

  Guess I have myself to blame,

  I should have clued in,

  You were only in it to win.

  My moods varied drastically when I unleashed my emotions. Some days I was angry with Ally; intolerably angry. She owed me an explanation, and I would be damned if anyone else walked out of my life like that again. Other days I was sad, my heart bleeding over everything I touched. Ally was a Goddess on those days. Everything was my fault, not that I knew why of course, but I must have done something. My worst days were the ones that were indifferent. Maybe I never really loved her, and on those dark days, my mind worked overtime to convince myself of this.

  I will run, I will hide.

  I will seek, I will find.

  What is missing in me?

  The truth, it must be.

  These days will all end.

  These wounds will all mend.

  Cause the light’s still around,

  It just needs to be found.

  My bandmates were ecstatic with my ability to write away the time, as hit after hit rocked the charts, soaring to the top. Hazed was unbeatable, and the money and the fans were rolling in. Our following had increased tenfold over the months following Ally’s departure. My ability to compose past the pain was benefiting our music, and there was no going back. That is what I was meant to do.

  Life was becoming easier for me. She still owned my heart and my soul, but she no longer owned my every breath. I fell in love with my career again. I could be happy again. In most ways, people could assume I couldn’t ask for more, but that wasn’t the case. I wished for the future I thought Ally and me would share, I wished for a partner who made me feel complete, and I wished for the past with all of the hazed, drug filled memories. If Ally had to leave so I could sober up, then I owed it to her to make it worth it.

  It wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be, to quit using. The pain of losing Ally and the helplessness it brought on destroyed the addict in me. I just hoped her leaving had done the same for her. Suddenly the minutes seemed like just that, minutes, and time passed. It passed without lapses of pain, it passed without mood swings, and it passed without her. Finally, I was okay with that.

  Ally had been gone almost nine months when Allison walked into my life. Allison was beautiful, long blonde hair, big blue eyes, and a five-foot nine frame to encompass her bombshell body. Fate smiled on me in some way the day she walked into the recording studio. Her father owned the record label, and conveniently his daughter was learning the ropes of the family business.

  I was clueless in the beginning, completely ignorant of any woman trying to catch my attention, but luckily that didn’t stop Allison. She was persistent, finding any reason to call us, any reason to bring us into the studio, any reason to work with me. Her plan worked. I was interested.

  With a bit of time, I learned to trust her. She was successful on her own and fully supportive of the demands associated with my career. I loved her. My love for her was different from the love I had for Ally. Ally, I had loved with a reckless passion. With Allison, it was more mature and logical. Allison stitched together the hole in my heart. There were still cracks remaining, twinges of pain that would hit every now and again, but overall, I was better.

  The secret search for Ally continued in most aspects of my life, but it was no longer as prominent. I could live without her. She remained my muse for writing, although an added benefit was Allison’s belief that I wrote about her. I would never admit the truth, the real woman that drove the passion behind my words. It didn’t matter anymore.

  “Are you coming, Hun?” Allison’s voice was smooth and sensual. I caught myself gazing out the window, searching the faces on the street below, a habit to which I had become accustomed.

  “Yes.” I shifted my gaze from the window to Allison’s legs as she walked out the door, heading to another one of our recording sessions.

  Her apartment was uncomfortably perfect. It would never feel like home, but it sufficed. Plus, Allison loved it. It had been decorated with valuable paintings, designer furniture, and bold colors. Her appearance was the most important aspect of her life. Some days I was convinced it was more important than me. Truthfully, I was okay with that. I was all in our relationship but was still caught in my past, so I had to be okay with her having something more important than me.

  I was anxious to reveal our latest project during this session. A new song that I held close to my heart; the song that encompassed my last powerful memories of Ally. The guys were aware of the symbolic meaning of these lyrics, the last cries from my heart. They were the only people that would ever know though, except for the one person who would know the words were about them, and I doubted she would ever hear them.

  Who knew if she was even able to hear? While I hoped she was sober and living a healthy life, my fear for her never ceased. I never expected it to stop. Ally had been just as much of an addict as I had been the day she left. Given her rocky past, finding the strength to maintain sobriety would be nearly impossible. Considering her history, it was rational for me to worry about her well-being.

  The studio was dimly lit, how Allison preferred it. I stood in front of the microphone, sheet music set on the stand directly in my eye line, not that I required it. These words were etched in my mind, permanently. They were imprinted on my heart, tattooed to my soul. The music played through my headphones.

  How am I supposed to live through the day?

  Now that you’ve gone away?

  I haven’t slept a night since you left.

  Clinging to your words, wondering what’s next.

  It was true, although life had been moving forward, I had never slept straight through a single night since she left. Ally’s face consumed my thoughts, so much so that I missed the cue for the following verse.

  “Tim?” Ian’s voice pulled me back, pleading for me to snap out of it. He knew where my mind was. He always did.

  “Sorry.” I repented, signaling to start the music again.

  All that remains of us is a note.

  I still don’t know what it’s all about.

  Justin’s soft voice echoed mine.

  Can’t you come back?

  Can’t you tell me why?

  My voice strengthened, keeping up with the music.

  My world is crashing without you.

  There is no meaning without you.

  My words are empty without you.

  And all I have left are the words I love you.

  Allison’s eyes were gleaming when I finally looked up to take in her reaction. It was evident that she was oblivious to the real meaning, a fact that I had anticipated, even worse, I had relied on it. Her genuine naivety was an asset
to our relationship. Most times she was unaware of my absent mind or assumed I had been lost in new lyrics. It was easy for us to be happy together because neither of us pushed for more intensity, and as long as we were committed to planning a future, that was all that mattered.

  The guys enjoyed this. It had become an inside joke for the band. Ally and Allison, and the struggle to be the muse of our music. Allison blended well with Ian and Justin. They got along. Her bond was nowhere near the bond Ally had built, but then again Ally was always with me. Allison enjoyed her own home life and her own travel plans. It was rare we were together on the road, conveniently, another benefit to our relationship. She made this life easy.

  “Tim, that, was, unbelievable!” Allison gushed, essentially speechless, a rarity for her. “Wow. I am so lucky to have a man who feels that strongly about me.” Another misinterpretation on her part. The urge to correct her burned. The consequences of opening my mouth were the only reason I held back. Explaining the actual inspiration for the song would be relationship suicide, it would destroy everything that we had built.

  “There’s a lot about me you don’t know.” A wink followed without effort. The underlying truth was unsettling. She would never know everything about me since all of me was with another woman.

  Chapter 3

  Brighter Sun

  Waking up on Sunday morning was accompanied by a comforting sense of repetition. I was up long before Kenzie, an event that didn’t occur often. I found myself making breakfast, far too much for just one person, but even still I had made something. Sitting down at the table seemed to be the logical approach, turning the radio on so the music would drown out my chewing. Eggs, bacon, and toast had always been my favorite morning meal, and that particular morning the sun was shining brighter, and I was feeling lighter.