9. "Help""Bobby?" Amir asked, his voice in its constant monotone. I wasn't surprised that he was still up and all the lights were on and the world was spinning and it seemed like it would never stop and... "Bobby!" Hands on my shoulders, pushing me back up. "What's wrong?"
"Paige..have to talk to him." I whispered, trying to break free of Amir's grasp and stumbling desperately in the hallway. Ryan caught me as I started to fall to the floor.
"What the hell's wrong with him?" he asked Amir, who merely shrugged. Ryan helped me in to the living room and sat me down on the couch. I was gibbering and could barely sit up. "Shit, look at his arm." I could barely feel my arm, but he was jiggling it around for all it was worth.
Amir leaned in closer. "Fuck, that sucker's torn up." he whispered, poking at it. I cringed and tried to pull away, but it seemed like everything was swirling into nothing.
"Just let me...talk to Paige." I snarled, trying to pull my arm away from him. My arm flopped away limply. I didn't know what they were making such a fuss about, it was just five more cuts, five more out of fifty. Most of them were scarred over anyway, and these last few had scabbed over already. It was more the bar I had visited before I came over here that had done me in. Suddenly it hit me. They were actually worried...or they at least noticed that I had cut myself! Torn apart inside, I just wanted to cover it up and pretend that I hadn't done it, but it was so hard...
They were acting like I wasn't conscious. And I couldn't say that I was. Was that the only time they felt that they could express concern about me? Everything spun into a blur of itself, Ryan looked like a monkey with yellow spots on his head, Amir somehow blended into the wall, the furniture started to grow. I bit my lip and closed my eyes. I had just wanted to escape Jay for a minute. I thought I had only taken one drink.
Everything spun away.
"Bobby?" Cold hand or cloth or washcloth or something against my forehead. Teeth chattered desperately. "You wanted to talk to me about something?" Paige...oh gods it was Paige."Ryan and Amir..?"
"They're gone. What did you do to yourself?" he asked. He was sitting far enough away that I couldn't see his face very well. Everything was hazy.
"Just got a drink." I sobbed. "Jay..."
Instantly his face was closer and his eyes were concerned. "What about Jay?"
"He...he..."
"He didn't rape you, did he?" Paige asked, eyes instantly full of concern. Then I remembered that I had thrown my clothes on quickly and why everyone had been looking at me strangely at the bar. Looked down. Fuck...I was wearing Jay's clothes.
"No." Desperately looked at the ceiling, why wasn't there water damage, why wasn't everything ripped and torn? I wasn't at home, had to remember that. What the fuck had I had to drink? "No...he...I ...we... fucked..."
"Really?" A small smile crossed his lips. "Did Jay tie you down then?"
"I..fucked Jay." I whispered to myself. Paige's eyes lit up, as if he'd been given a present.
"You were on top?"
"Yeah... He insisted on it."
He chuckled to himself. "Well, then why are you here? You two should be cuddling or something."
Couldn't he see why? "I cheated on Shane!" I said, struggling to sit up. He shook his head.
"Like that matters now that you're divorced? Just go with it, I think it'll be good for you. Why don't I drive you back right now?!" he said, smiling again, glad that his friends were all pushed into their little slots and he wouldn't have to feel guilty about anyone feeling left out.
Paige drove me back and helped me up to my apartment, practically unlocking the door and then slamming it behind me. I fell to the floor and laid there for a moment, crying to myself. Why had I thought that Paige would care any more than Ryan or Amir? Maybe because he looked like the kind of person who would.When I opened my eyes I heard some noises in the living room. I turned to face in that direction and saw Jay sitting on the couch swigging from a bottle of vodka. A few empty bottles lay shattered around him, and he was wearing my shirt and his boxers. Something seemed wrong with his face, but I couldn't tell what from this distance.
"Bobby!" he giggled, stumbling over towards me. "You're got really nice neighbors!" He fell down and laughed harder. Somehow he managed to drink more of the vodka while he was lying down. Stared harder at his face. Deep blue glitter was smeared all over his eyelids, and a deep crimson lipstick with red glitter graced his lips. It was somewhat tarnished from its contact with the bottle, but it was still evident. And some pink streaks of blush or something emphasized his cheekbones. The whole effect was very reminiscent of a whore, and, knowing Jay, it wasn't really that far off the mark.
"What did you do to your face?" I asked after a long pause. He grabbed my cheeks in between his hand and giggled again. Noticed that his nails had not escaped whatever cruel attention they deserved. Gold nailpolish with sparkles.
"Your neighbor said that if I helped her study for her cosmetology exam she'd give me some vodka." He grinned, then pointed to the vodka. "Free booze!" Then his mood changed. "Paige kissed me once for some beer. Do you remember that?"
"I don't think I was with you guys then." But he wasn't listening. Instead he was staring up at the ceiling and sighing to himself. "Jay..." I began, intending to ask him if he had taken his pain killers...but I stopped. He was lost in his own little drunken world. How I wanted to join him. So I looked up at the ceiling too.
Cracks cascaded over lumpy paint. Why was nothing ever smooth? Even when things were supposed to be flat they were ruined by imperfections. Ran my hand over my arm, feeling the little lumps. It had once been smooth.
"Bobby?" he asked after a long silence.
"Yeah?"
"We're alone, aren't we?"
"What do you mean?"
"They don't like us anymore. Paige doesn't even like us anymore."
"That's not true."
"Yes it is! Why else would they go off and do something by themselves! We're a group damn it!" he sobbed, chugging some vodka. I sighed and picked at one of the cuts.
"They're doing that because they're in love. Not because they don't like us. We just don't fit in." I said softly. He rolled over and looked at me.
"Fuck them. I want my friends back!" he whined, tears rolling down his cheeks.
"I do too, there are a lot of things I want back. But you can't always have everything you want. And we'll still see them, when we start the third album, right?" He nodded and laid down next to me, laying his head on my chest. I gently pried the vodka out of his hands. "How about you give up drinking?" I suggested.
He thought about that for a long time, closing his eyes and shaking. His hand went over my arm. "Only if you give up cutting."