The Stage

I awoke to the sound of coffee brewing, jolting me out of my sleep. My eyes popped open, observing my surroundings. I was in my own bed, in my own room, in my own clothes. My clothes I had worn the night before.

I laid there and tried to gather my thoughts. From what I could remember, I went back to the band’s hotel to party. After that, my memory is spotty, at best.

I rose out of bed and crept towards my bedroom door, expecting to see the guys sitting around the bare living room on the floor when I opened it. I paused and listened, seeing if I could hear any quiet chatter or suppressed giggles. Just the occasional clinking of glass and the coffee maker still brewing.

I opened the door and stepped out, peaking around the corner to get a look at whoever was in my apartment.

There, at the breakfast bar, sat a blonde female I could only describe as a ghost. I wiped my eyes and blinked, making sure I wasn’t dreaming or seeing things. No, it wasn’t a ghost. It was a real, breathing human.

“Sage?”

She looked up from her phone and pulled her mouth into a smile.

“Hey Chels,” she said lightheartedly. Her eyes had dark circles underneath and her hands had cuts and sores on them. I gulped hard, knowing her addiction was most likely at its pinnacle. I leaned on the counter across from her.

“So, you saw all my texts, right?” I inquired.

She nodded. “Yeah, congrats. That’s an awesome gig you got,” she forced a smile. I looked down, knowing that leaving her was going to hurt her more than help her.

“Maybe you could come with? You’d make better money and get you away from those people you hang out with,” I suggested, mindlessly picking at my nails to avoid eye contact. She snickered.

“What do you mean those people? They’re my friends Chels, they help me out all the time. I couldn’t leave them,” she attempted to reassure me. I got the first good look at her teeth, seeing they were yellowing from neglect and who knows what else.

I sighed. This was a pointless battle. She would never leave here; not with her dealers, her drugs being here.

“I wish you would just consider it,” I urged her. I breathed in deeply, looked down at the counter. Sage scoffed.

“Listen Chels, you do what you need to do. I know you’ve always hated it here. Get out of this place. I’ll be okay, don’t worry about me,” she grabbed my hand and reassured me. I looked up at her and knew there was no point in pushing it. “Sit down, come have some coffee and talk. I haven’t seen you in a while,” she patted the stool next to her.

“Yeah, because you’re never here,” I retorted. I walked about the counter into the kitchen. I pulled the remaining two mugs from the cupboard and poured myself and Sage some of the dark, almost black, liquid. I set her cup down in front of her and took my seat.

“I met this guy the other day. Oh Chels, you’d love him. He’s got blonde hair and these gorgeous green eyes,” Sage sighed and smiled sweetly.

“Where’d you meet this great guy?” I fiddled with my cup, knowing the answer was not going to be good.

“Michael’s. They’re best friends,” she hesitantly spoke. I sighed. Michael. Another one of her many dealers. Before I said anything I didn’t mean, I rose from my seat.

“Love you, Sage. I gotta finish packing. I leave tomorrow,” I squeezed her hand and started walking towards my room.

“Love you more!” she called after me. A single tear fell from my cheek.

Notes

Hellllo. Long time no see. Here is a relatively short chapter just because I felt obligated to post something. Enjoy! :)

For those of you who don’t read my other story, I am in the fetal stages of writing a My Chemical Romance story and I’d love to attempt to co-write it with someone. If you’d be interested, shoot me a message! :)

Title credit: "Hurt" Nine Inch Nails