Chapter Four - The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face

The woman staring back at me from the mirror was a broken, defeated one. Her olive skin discoloured from bruises, her turquoise eyes hollow and lifeless. She reached for her light brown hair, closely cropped in the back and her bangs slightly longer in the front, remembering a time when it was long and beautiful. She missed it but, for her own safety, she had to wear it short. No one could grab her hair and throw her around if it was short.

I saw myself, my real self, in that mirror. The woman who I was and the woman who I now am. Then, I was full of life, full of love and ambition. Now, I fear for my life, have forgotten how to love and be loved, and my ambitions have all run dry. I was in a dark, secluded place but, in the distance was a glimmer of hope. That hope was shining so brightly that I almost believed it would rescue me. I didn't want to be alone anymore. I craved the company of another.

"Everything's all set, Tem." I heard FP call out from the other room. He'd brought my bags in from the car. While he continued to talk, I just stood there staring into the mirror, transfixed by my appearance. It took him coming into the bathroom to break my trance.

"Tem," He said softly and grabbed my chin, turning my face towards his. "Artemis look at me. All of this, it's gonna go away." Gently, he brushed his fingertips over the wound on my temple and the scar above my eye.

I reached up and grabbed his hand. "I know. I just—"

"It's ok. I know. You don't have to tell me again." With my hand in his, he brought me into the bedroom. He had me sit down on the edge of the bed then he went into the sitting room of the hotel suite. When he came back, he had my tweed guitar case in his hand. "I can't believe you still have this. I'd have thought you'd get rid of it after a few years."

"Why would I get rid of it?" I asked softly, my voice not much louder than a whisper. "You worked so hard to get me that. It was the best present anyone had ever given me."

With the guitar case open on the bed, he pulled out a 1985 blackburst D'Angelico semi-hollow body electric guitar made out of fiddleback maple with a single cutaway. It had been well taken care of over the years. The strings were periodically replaced, the body polished, and the fretboard oiled. It looked almost brand new but, in reality, that guitar had seen thousands of hours of practice, hundreds of songs, and many midnight duets by Sweetwater River.

Once tuned, FP strummed a few chords then handed it to me. "That's one thing I missed, hearing you play."

I grabbed the neck of the guitar and set it across my knee. "I…I haven't played in years." I stammered.

Fumbling, I managed to string a few chords together to one of my favourite songs, "The First Time Ever…". Every time I was with him felt like the first time for something but this time, it really was. It was the first time in so long that I'd felt genuine love towards anyone, and I'm glad that it was him that I was truly loving all over again.

I looked over at him and smiled softly moving my hair out of my face. "Ya know, I thought about you a lot over the years. I missed my best friend." My voice was still barely above a whisper.

"I missed you too, Artemis." He said in the same soft tone. "But I'm glad you haven't been here until now. Things around Riverdale have been…messy. There are things that I'm glad you weren't here for."

I set my guitar back in the case and put the rosewood pick in my pocket. "This place is like Hotel California. If you're from here, you never leave here for good. You always come back. I mean, look at us. We both left but life outside of Riverdale, it was too 'normal.' We had nothing out there but here, we have everything. The good, the bad, and everything in between. We face it head on and we face it together."

"How do you do it?" He asked with a smirk. "How do you make everything sound so poetic?"

I just shrugged. "Maybe it's just how you hear it. It's not like I try." The clock on the bedside table changed over to read "Fri 12:00 am" and I realised only then how late it really was. Slowly, I latched my guitar case and set it on the floor at the end of the bed. "You should probably get some sleep. You look like you haven't really slept in a while."

"I haven't. I've been too worried about you."

I just shook my head. We'd been best friends almost our entire lives and I don't think that I can ever remember a time when he wouldn't fret over me. Every single one of my high school hockey games up through my junior year, he was sitting right next to the bench to make sure that I got off the ice in one piece. In turn, I'd do the same at his football games. Whenever I'd ride my dirt bike through Foxwood Forest as a kid, he'd follow me to make sure that I didn't get lost or hurt. He was always a part of my life no matter what was happening. I just wish that he had been there after high school because then maybe, just maybe, our lives wouldn't have fallen apart the way that they did. Maybe they could've fallen apart together.

"Then you really need to sleep. I'll be fine." I gave a soft smile and pulled the covers back on the bed. "I promise. Now, come on. You really do look dead." He didn't argue. He knew that I was right.

We both settled down for the night under the down comforter, his arm around me and my head resting on his heart. The slow, steady rhythm was relaxing as I just laid there letting him sleep.