Don't Fall to Far From Where You Are
You Were Gone...What Was I To Do?
August 6th 2011:
I spun around a pole, losing my grip; I fell hard on the stage. I groaned; pushing myself I tried to regain myself. Dazed and confused, but before I could compose myself I felt a coat wrap around my bare chest and someone lift me up. I looked at the face of the person carrying me. I started to fight, “put me down, Brian!!!!”
Security followed and Brian set me down on a bench in the dressing room, “how fucked up are you?”
I cringed, “I’m fine!”
“How fucked up are you?” he screamed at me.
“Sir, I think you should leave,” one of the bouncers said softly to Brian.
I looked at the bouncer, “he’s fine; he’s my boyfriend.”
“Answer me Jessica!” he snapped at me, causing me to cringe internally.
“I don’t know!” I snapped back. I really couldn't remember how much I took and I knew that was completely wrong, but my mind was so fucked up. “I don’t remember how much I took this time!”
“That’s it,” he yelled at me. I wasn't surprised he was fed up with my antics. “You said you came here to make better money. I should have known you’d find more drugs here in Vegas.”
“You were gone!” I yelled at him. “You left me.”
“I went on fucking tour!” he yelled at me, yeah he went on tour, but what was I suppose to do when he wasn't around. I needed something to do.
“Yeah, leaving a recovering drug addict alone!” I yelled at him. “You were gone! I couldn’t sit at home anymore! I needed to work! I needed to be wanted!”
“I want you!” he yelled at me, sincerity etched in his eyes, with confusion and hurt. “You can work without stripping!”
“I can’t make the kind of money I make any other way!” I snapped at him.
He shook his head, “you were so fucked up out there that you couldn’t perform. You can’t do this fucked up! I will support the dancing, I will, because I love you and know you enjoy it. I just- I will not support the drug habit.”
I blinked at him, “I’m fine. I lost my grip.” I truly had just lost my grip, but there was more to it. I was indeed drug out.
He shook his head, “I can’t believe this.”
I looked at him, “I’m sorry.” I truly was, he was my rock, my everything, my best friend, my love. I hated hurting him, I truly did.
“Are you?” he asked looking at me. “I lost fucking my best friend to an overdose within the last year. I don’t want to lose the love of my life to drugs now.”
I looked down, feeling my stomach turn from the drugs, the emotion and alcohol I had, “I need to use the bathroom.”
He shook his head, “no, we aren’t done here.”
I stood up in a hurry and hurried into the bathroom connected to the dressing room. I began throwing up in one of the stalls. I heard sighs, and then felt my hair get pulled away. I sighed and wiped my mouth.
“Let it out sweetie,” I heard one of the other dancers say.
“Yeah, there’s my answer,” Brian said from the door. “Call me when you’re clean, until then…”
I watched him leave and I fell to the floor as tears started to fall, sober. He left me. I had really fucked up this time. The next morning I sat in my hotel room, staring out the window. I had to get clean. For myself; for Brian; for Jimmy.
It took me six months, but I was clean. Eventually, I was able to go back to work and stay sober. I called Brian telling him I was clean. He said he’d come visit me. I was excited; he said he’d be up in a few days.
I spun around a pole, losing my grip; I fell hard on the stage. I groaned; pushing myself I tried to regain myself. Dazed and confused, but before I could compose myself I felt a coat wrap around my bare chest and someone lift me up. I looked at the face of the person carrying me. I started to fight, “put me down, Brian!!!!”
Security followed and Brian set me down on a bench in the dressing room, “how fucked up are you?”
I cringed, “I’m fine!”
“How fucked up are you?” he screamed at me.
“Sir, I think you should leave,” one of the bouncers said softly to Brian.
I looked at the bouncer, “he’s fine; he’s my boyfriend.”
“Answer me Jessica!” he snapped at me, causing me to cringe internally.
“I don’t know!” I snapped back. I really couldn't remember how much I took and I knew that was completely wrong, but my mind was so fucked up. “I don’t remember how much I took this time!”
“That’s it,” he yelled at me. I wasn't surprised he was fed up with my antics. “You said you came here to make better money. I should have known you’d find more drugs here in Vegas.”
“You were gone!” I yelled at him. “You left me.”
“I went on fucking tour!” he yelled at me, yeah he went on tour, but what was I suppose to do when he wasn't around. I needed something to do.
“Yeah, leaving a recovering drug addict alone!” I yelled at him. “You were gone! I couldn’t sit at home anymore! I needed to work! I needed to be wanted!”
“I want you!” he yelled at me, sincerity etched in his eyes, with confusion and hurt. “You can work without stripping!”
“I can’t make the kind of money I make any other way!” I snapped at him.
He shook his head, “you were so fucked up out there that you couldn’t perform. You can’t do this fucked up! I will support the dancing, I will, because I love you and know you enjoy it. I just- I will not support the drug habit.”
I blinked at him, “I’m fine. I lost my grip.” I truly had just lost my grip, but there was more to it. I was indeed drug out.
He shook his head, “I can’t believe this.”
I looked at him, “I’m sorry.” I truly was, he was my rock, my everything, my best friend, my love. I hated hurting him, I truly did.
“Are you?” he asked looking at me. “I lost fucking my best friend to an overdose within the last year. I don’t want to lose the love of my life to drugs now.”
I looked down, feeling my stomach turn from the drugs, the emotion and alcohol I had, “I need to use the bathroom.”
He shook his head, “no, we aren’t done here.”
I stood up in a hurry and hurried into the bathroom connected to the dressing room. I began throwing up in one of the stalls. I heard sighs, and then felt my hair get pulled away. I sighed and wiped my mouth.
“Let it out sweetie,” I heard one of the other dancers say.
“Yeah, there’s my answer,” Brian said from the door. “Call me when you’re clean, until then…”
I watched him leave and I fell to the floor as tears started to fall, sober. He left me. I had really fucked up this time. The next morning I sat in my hotel room, staring out the window. I had to get clean. For myself; for Brian; for Jimmy.
It took me six months, but I was clean. Eventually, I was able to go back to work and stay sober. I called Brian telling him I was clean. He said he’d come visit me. I was excited; he said he’d be up in a few days.
Notes
Thanks for the comments so far! :)
Next chapter is another flashback!
<3
@SkylarJames
AH gotcha! I knew it sounded familiar.
3/28/18