My Fucking Nightmare

I never slept a wink. I sat watching her softly breathing throughout the night, wondering just what the fuck I was going to do now. The deed had been done and I corrupted her with the same darkness, the same evil I’d been corrupted with. The vanity and shame would soon consume what little composure I still had. And how the fuck would this be kept under wraps from Brian? Would he even suspect it? How the fuck would Melissa and I manage to have a platonic relationship in his company?
Christ, the pain from my headache was almost too much to bear. I just needed sleep and it wasn’t going to happen, because I was in love with this girl and it was four in the morning and all I could see was the fading condensation drip down the windows. The shadow of the affair faded away with it like some unholy ghost and I needed the evidence to be cleansed or the guilt would take its toll before the cumulative hangover did. We were in over our heads. And if she got pregnant, there’d be no way of knowing…
No. it wasn’t going to consume my life. I wasn’t going to let it. Guilt was guilt, a burden. We all carried it, some more than others. Just another skeleton to hang up in my closet full. I wasn’t a bad person, I reassured myself over and over. The words stuck like mud for the most part. Drowning everything else away. I didn’t force myself on her. I didn’t pressure her. I was far drunker than she was to begin with.
Fucking hell, I could take my eyes off her. A silent guardian in the night, I kept one arm tucked under her head for reassurance I’d be there ‘til morning. There was no way I’d treat her like a one night stand. Too many emotions in the mix for that.
For a while I sat pondering the time I became such a sappy little bitch. I say that as bluntly as I mean it, too. Girls used to come and go. A night of strange loving was nothing. Throw some booze in there, a party to return to when the deed was done…that’s how we did things back in the day. I guess Brian never did. Modesty was something he held close, and I guess that rubbed off on me. I met Raine and it all changed. Became a monogamous lover, broken-hearted and sensitive to the fallout of it all. Truth is, I was just so sick of the hook-up life. Fame does that. Fans get old, groupies get older. There’s so little room for real love. As time passed I realized how ready I was for settling down. Making something when I already had it all, when it was time to slow down and take a break from the band.
And now I may have forced my own hand at taking a break. May just as well have broken up my best friend’s soon-to-be marriage. All based on this nagging fucking pain. Jealousy. I was drowning. And no amount of liquor I’d ever drink could drown it out now.
I waited. I waited hours before she woke, flicking through channels, finding something interesting to watch that didn’t revolve around sex or relationships. Hard when the majority of Vegas circled the idea of sex and promiscuity. Hell, I’d watch fucking Ghost Adventures if it meant anger towards Aaron rather than the gentle but annoying reminder of last night’s events.
Hell, what would Harriet say if she found out? She’d go straight to fucking Brian and blurt it all out. She’d be happy enough to ruin that too. Fucking woman.
Melissa stirred a couple times, rolling over to face me, opening her eyes for a split second. Probably not conscious enough to realize what situation she was in, only enough to seek comfort of the partner beside her in bed. She still had that bright glow in her complexion, probably an after-sex glow that hadn’t yet worn off. She truly was beautiful. Long, wavy, reddish-brown hair. The odd freckle across her cheeks and nose. Hazel eyes to capture anyone’s gaze across the room. My kind of girl. Just, not my girl.
Shut the fuck up, Matt, I whispered to myself. You’re not making this any easier.
So, I watched her, brushed the hair away from her face. Wiped slight drool from the corner of her mouth. Massaged the dip in her spine up to the protrusions of her shoulder blades. All the skin I’d never again touch. I planted hundreds of kisses upon her. Subtle markings of triumph and disappointment combined into passionate tenderness. God, this poetic shit was driving me insane. Yet it was all I knew at this point as all the evil, hellish blackness I knew before had vanished. This girl had that much power within her.
Part of me wanted to fight for her. The rest of me knew it was too good to be true. Abandon ship, I told myself. Any partner who’ll cheat with you will sure as hell cheat on you. But again, I knew that I had the power and strength to move mountains with the energy in my soul. A connection so deep the stars would tremble and fall from the sky leaving nothing but the light of the moon to shine down and bless what it touched. I’d love her as much in the night as I would in the light of day.
I’d love her from afar. That was all I could give.
There was no being a bad sport about it. No moping. Move along and let time play its course. For now I’d stick to myself. Focus on fixing the worst of my qualities before getting wrapped up in this misery business again. Focus on the band, on the career I damn near ended in desperation and selfishness. Focus on what is, rather than what could be. Focus on me.
When Melissa finally did wake I made sure I was dressed and cleaned up. If by some chance she didn’t remember the night before, I wouldn’t want to spring it on her. Just let one of us suffer in silence, since ignorance is bliss. I wouldn’t even bring it up unless she did. And I tried my best to hide the bags under my eyes, since lack of sleep beckoned my worse for wear. “Good morning,” I crooned, allowing her time to rouse from unconsciousness. She acknowledged my presence with a toothy smile and yawned.
“How’d you sleep?” she asked, scuffing up several locks of flattened hair.
“Okay, I guess.” I yawned. “Breakfast?”
Nodding, she pointed out for her robe lying in a heap on the floor beside the bed. I passed it to her and turned away while she wrapped herself up and climbed from the sheets to make for the bathroom. Several moments passed, the only noises in the room besides the television being the flush of the toilet and running tap water. She emerged again, hair up in a messy bun. “Let’s order breakfast. I don’t want to get dressed right now.”
“Well, tell me what you want and I’ll run down and grab it for you.”
“Bacon. Lots of bacon. And eggs this time.”
I launched towards the door, swiping the card on the countertop in the bathroom’s foyer. “Matt?” she called out, just as I shut the door behind me. “Are we okay?”
I paused, poking my head back through the doorway. “Well yeah, why wouldn’t we be?”
“We just fought a lot this weekend. Wanted to know if you were okay.” Nodding affirmatively I smiled and shut the door, leaning up against the back of it to take a breath. She doesn’t remember. Okay. I can work with that. Maybe it was a dream after all. Maybe my drunken imagination became too much and I completely made the whole thing up. Sighing, I stumbled down the hall and made my way down the six flights of stairs. Hotel elevators creeped me out.
I returned with our plates almost twenty minutes later, finding her in the shower. Door left ajar, I closed it, thinking that maybe she left it open unintentionally. I waited for her to get out so she wouldn’t have to eat alone, not caring how cold my plate got in the length of time it took for her to finish.
She came out in a towel, damp hair hanging from her shoulders. Water dripped all over the floor. She thanked me for the plate and sat cross legged on the end of the bed, munching down on as much as she could in like, a five minute span. Something wasn’t right with her. “Liss, you okay?” I probed, hoping she wouldn’t burst into fucking flames or something.
“Did we…did we mess around?”
“Why, do you think we did? I don’t remember.”
She sighed, setting her plate down on the bed. “I remember you coming back to the room, and we had another argument, but I don’t remember anything else until this morning. I’m pretty sore. And pardon the insensitivity but I was a little…soggy…”
Soggy? Nice. I tried not to gag. “Uh, like I said. I was fucked on Jack last night so I don’t remember much. You’re probably sore from all that walking yesterday. I woke up dressed if it makes you feel better.” Mm. Didn’t think it would sting as much as it did.
“Okay. Sorry, I get a little paranoid. I know there’s been lots of tension and lots of confusing things have been said lately…I’d like to just leave things here, if that’s alright with you.”
“Yeah, sure.” I finished the rest of my plate, trying to occupy the angry thoughts that flooded my vision. Rose turned to red. “When’s Brian gonna be back?” I asked, trying to not sound vehemently pissed.
She flipped open her phone and scanned all the messages between them. “He says he’s leaving around noon, so he’ll be home by two at the latest. Why, you heading out soon?”
“Probably will, yeah. Didn’t expect to stay another day.” And I didn’t need to risk running into anyone at the airport who might recognize me. Immediately I started gathering up some personal effects. The chains on the night stand, the clothes on the floor. Oh hell. I realized I made a crucial mistake that I hoped and prayed she wouldn’t catch onto: I put the wrong fucking shirt on. Shit fuck.
Within a half hour I was ready to leave. I didn’t spend much time with adieus and all that other goodbye bullshit. Didn’t need to. She sent me off, offering to wait in the lobby for a cab to show up but I waved her off. Told her to chill in the room, maybe go down by the pool for a couple hours, or call Harriet up and go shopping. Her return ticket wasn’t booked ‘til four, so she had some time to fuck around.
As my cab rolled away, I watched from the rear view mirror as her facial expression sank. Maybe she did know. Maybe she knew and wanted to play dumb like I did to not arouse suspicion. Smart girl. I hoped for the latter. Regrettably I didn’t take a last kiss. Probably smart, since temptation was a royal fucking bitch for me lately.
After I bought my ticket, I plugged in my headphones and waited. There’d be a lot of waiting. A lot of time to myself to think and stew and wonder what was going on. Truthfully I missed having that weird connection. Hearing her thinking about all the same mixed feelings was pretty reaffirming and did wonders for my confidence. I just needed something to take my mind off the whole thing, and the music was my only way out. A Band Aid on a gaping bullet hole. But peace, nonetheless.
Time to let fate play her magic tricks. Maybe all this soulmates bullshit isn’t bullshit after all.

Notes

For the confusion in the title reference and description, of those who aren't into FPS video games and the like, I'm alluding to the level of Zombies in Call of Duty: Black Ops where the first level requires the use of a time machine, developed by the infamous Dr. Richtofan. The doctor in the audio of the loading scene comments on his time machine's quirks and hypotheses where he mentions that "only time will tell what new questions await us..." blah blah, refer to title for full quote. Anyway, I want to take a moment and considerthis quote for a few minutes, as this whole story for me is just a classic theatre drama which seems to create more questions than it answers. Like that freaking frustrating level of Zombies. Seriously, screw those annoying undead bastards.

And all you CoD fans out there, rock on.

Don't worry, it'll all come together with closure in the end, dear readers. I appreciate you all sticking with me through the story's horrible twists and plots. As always, comments, questions, and concerns are welcomed and praised. Your support does not go unnoticed!