Cold. I'm so fucking cold.
My eyes snap open, only to be forced back into submission by blinding white light. I'm freezing- shivering, even, and my body's stiff and cramped. I'm vaguely aware of a dull throb in my right hand. Sitting up, I rub my eyes with my fingertips, trying to regain my bearings. It takes me a second to realize that I'm sprawled on the ivory tile of the bathroom floor; I must have fallen asleep in here after my little outburst. Groaning, I heave myself to my feet and head back out into the main room, taking care to ignore the shattered mirror. I know if I even so much as look at it, I'll flip out again, and there's no telling how much damage I'll do.
I go to the dresser and unzip my duffel bag to rifle through its contents, looking for something to wear since I'm still dressed in only the towel I'd put on after my shower. I pick through the clothes until I find a pair of jeans and an old, worn-out t-shirt advertising a band I'd been in briefly after high school. I close my eyes and allow myself a moment to reminisce.
Like so much else in my life, being in that band hadn't amounted to anything, but it was fun. Jade used to come to our shows, if you could even call them that- usually it was just us going to some bar and coaxing the owner or manager or whoever to let us play the drunks out at last call, but Jade was always there, watching, cheering, singing along, as wrapped up in it as if we were rocking out Madison Square Garden. She'd actually been the one who'd had these shirts made for us. She'd given me mine as we were packing up our equipment late one night, excitedly whipping it out of her gigantic bag and handing it to me.
"What's all this?" I'd asked.
"Oh, come on, Beck, every good band has to have merch!" she'd wheedled. "It'll be good advertising. Just think- dive bars today, House of Blues tomorrow."
"You're delusional," I'd teased, slipping off my plaid button down and pulling the new shirt over my head. Damn, it was soft.
"I am not," she'd snarked back, reaching up to tug my washer necklace out from under my collar. "You gotta dream big to be big, babe. If you think sleazy clubs is all this'll ever amount to, then you'll never get anywhere. Man up and get out there. I know you guys can do it. And I really do believe that what you put out will come back to you, but it's all completely pointless if you don't even bother fucking trying." Pausing to take a breath, she'd looked up at me with those incredible eyes of hers and snaked her arms around my waist, and when she spoke again, her tone was considerably softer, which was typical Jade- zero to sixty and back again in a blink. I swear, it could give you whiplash. "For what it's worth," she'd murmured, reaching a hand up and tracing circles on my chest with a fingertip, "I believe in you."
I'd pulled her close, bending down to kiss her on the forehead. "Have I told you lately that I love you?"
Jade had laughed softly, which quickly turned into a yawn, and I couldn't blame her- it was pretty late. She'd leaned forward and snuggled her head against my chest, and was quiet for a moment before finally replying. "Yeah, yeah," she'd muttered, voice dripping with mock irritation. "I love you, too."
I finally break my little daydream, realizing I've just been standing there staring at the shirt, the worn fabric crumpled into a ball in my fist, grinding smithereens of broken glass further underneath my skin. I slowly unclench my fingers from it and pull it over my head, then step into a pair of jeans and tug my boots back on. When I'm done, I look down at my hand. The side of my fist is all cut up, a few pieces of glass sparkling from the wound.
Wincing, I grab a toothpick from the little basket beside the coffee maker and set about the excruciating task of digging it all out. When I finally do finish, I'm bleeding again, hands trembling, pulse throbbing, and breath shaky from the experience- it was much more difficult and unnerving than I'd bargained for.
I step back into the bathroom, making sure to keep my eyes down so I don't have to look at the damage I've done to the mirror. I snatch a washcloth from the chrome rack above the toilet and gingerly wrap it around my injured hand. It instantly spots red. I'll have to get some proper bandages. I think there's a Duane Reade a couple of blocks down. Might as well head there now, I figure, slipping on my jacket before pocketing my room key and wallet. Once I get that all taken care of, I can get down to business.
I had thought I'd gotten up pretty early, but once I get to the lobby, a large digital clock behind the front desk all but announces that it's nearly ten in the morning. I shake my head. Goddammit. Stupid jet lag. I'd forgotten about the three hour time difference between here and California. That's going to be a bitch getting used to.
Another guest walking into the lobby sends in a gust of cold wind and makes me shiver, so I button up my peacoat. Ugh. Even though it's March, it's pretty cold here, especially compared to the mild Hollywood weather that I'm accustomed to. I smile and nod at the girl behind the front desk, a different one from last night, and venture out into the streets of the city.
I've been to New York once before, you know. Senior year, Sikowitz took the advanced theater class here for a long weekend. He does it every year. Sort of a tradition, getting away with the seniors before they all go their separate ways. I remember how excited we all were as we boarded our flight at LAX, nervous energy coursing through us all so much that you could probably hear it buzzing in our veins if you cared to stop and listen hard enough. I remember how it'd been Robbie's first time on an airplane, and he'd clung to Rex with one hand and covered his eyes with the other, muttering nervously in Hebrew as we started down the tarmac to take off. I remember how Cat had been delighted to find bibble on the in-flight menu. I remember Tori getting motion sickness, violently retching into her paper bag. I remember Sinjin intently watching the in-flight movie, even though it was some foreign film called Ick Glockmah that he couldn't possibly have understood. I remember how I'd snickered as Andre'd serenaded the flight attendant, and how we'd all watched uncomfortably as Sikowitz had a minor freakout about the unavailability of coconut milk when they'd served us our drinks and pretzels.
But we'd arrived in one piece, and we'd had an absolute blast, seeing a couple of Broadway shows, taking part in an improvisation workshop, eating Frrrozen Hot Chocolate at Serendipity 3, posing for pictures with the doormen at Tiffany's on 5th Avenue, and all of us making larger than life plans about how we were definitely going to be back for good someday. Our last night here, we'd all gone to the top of the Empire State Building. I remember slipping away with Jade to the other side of the observation deck, and kissing her just like Tom Hanks should have kissed Meg Ryan in Sleepless in Seattle. I'd held her close against the cool night air, and we'd looked down at this unfathomable, beautiful city unfolding beneath us, lights twinkling and the moon a hazy halo against the inky sky, and we might have been miles away from anything celestial, but that sparkling city was just as beautiful as any galaxy, and it felt like it was all there for us, an entire undiscovered solar system revolving not around a sun, but around two teenagers desperately in love with each other, and I remember thinking that must be what infinity felt like.
And now here I am again in this city, but now instead of being like the Milky Way, full of mystery and promise, it feels more like a black hole. It's sucked my sunshine into its swirling abyss, and I'm alone. And it's just occurring to me now that I haven't just lost her. I've lost my friends, my potential, and my sense of self, and those are all things that can take lightyears to be rediscovered.
But as I head into Duane Reade and walk up behind a stockboy to ask him to help me find some bandages for my hand, he turns around, and I'm once again met with a familiar face, and the burnt-out constellation of my life bursts with a new star of hope.
Author's Note
I'm sorry that this chapter took so long! I'm in college and have been busy with schoolwork, plus I had the joy of getting the stomach flu last week and didn't feel up to much of anything, much less updating. But I'm getting back on track now with drafting and such and updates should become pretty regular again. Also, I apologize for the cheesy space metaphors. I've been watching a lot of the SciFi channel lately. You'll have to excuse me.
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