For the last few weeks, I wake up to the same man’s face each morning. I learned that his name was Marcus; I spent nights at his place or had him over at mine. We went out together occasionally. Aside from physical attraction, I wasn’t all too invested in him. It was pleasant to have someone around that laughed at my jokes, told me about their day, and held me at night. Though, it didn’t seem very important to me that he was the one to do it. I thought he was charming enough, and he knew how to flatter me or make me laugh, but something wasn’t there. No matter how much I willed it, I couldn’t find even an imitation of the raw emotion I carried for Gael.
I only thought of him as my boyfriend when Absinthe invited him and I on a group date, with Gael and his girlfriend tagging along. We didn’t go anywhere fancy, especially because Absinthe had always hated getting attention. She brought us to a family pizza parlor, bringing along a woman I’d never met. Oddly, I realized I’d never heard of her having a girlfriend. How much had I missed for my addictions that I didn’t even know the woman she seemed to love?
“Asya, isn’t this the first actual boyfriend you’ve had?” Absinthe notes when my date is in the bathroom, taking a delicate bite of her pizza. Her girlfriend eyes me expectantly, leaving me to wonder how much Absinthe told her about me. I turn my eyes down, studying the cheese that oozed out of the stuffed crust I’d forgotten on my plate.
“Yeah. He is. I guess I just got sick of being single all the time.” I couldn’t avoid the sardonic edge that invaded my voice, and Absinthe hadn’t missed it either. Gael laughs, a sound that was more beautiful these past few months than I’d ever heard it sound before. Cynically, I wondered if it’s because of the girl he’s with, or an illusion brought up from my jealousy. I bit the inside of my lip, ashamed of myself for that thought.
I see the way Absinthe’s eyes narrow, and I can sense the worry budding within her. Marcus returned to the table. As Gael’s girlfriend delights us all with a dull tale about her job as a call center employee, I try not to look bitter and annoyed. I nibble at my pizza to keep my hands busy, but my appetite is absent.
I meet Absinthe’s eyes for a moment, but I turn them back down the moment I see the look she’s giving me. Her green eyes were so full of concern, looking between me and my boyfriend the same way she’d look between me and a bottle of whiskey. I turn my gaze back to my plate. I wanted the strength to face Absinthe and those eyes of hers.
I wished that I was strong enough to let Gael enjoy his happiness. It was weak of me to hate every moment as I sat there, an outsider looking into the most beautiful world imaginable. A world that would never be mine. That girl’s laughter cut through my thoughts, followed by the sound of a light kiss. I tried with all of my might not to cringe. It took all of my strength to withstand it. I endure this part of the evening until the pizzas are half eaten, when Gael departs with his lover.
My boyfriend orders a beer, quickly encouraging me to drink from his cup. I accept just a few sips, knowing that I can’t drink enough to wipe away my sour mood as Absinthe remains in the booth, watching me.
“Are you sure you should be drinking?” Absinthe stated, and I set down his cup with a sigh.
“I can drink moderately, like anyone else.” I muttered. Still, my cheeks flushed a bit.
“Yeah. He drinks less than I do.” My boyfriend piped in, though Absinthe didn’t seem to care much about what he added.
“You’re sure you won’t relapse?” Absinthe inquired. Her voice was quiet, her eyes cautious.
“Don’t worry. I’ve got this.” I insisted. Absinthe asked her girlfriend to take her credit card for her to pay the bill. I suggested to my boyfriend that we might want some boxes for the leftover pizza.
“You must trust that girl a lot, giving her your credit card like that,” I noted.
“We’ve been together for two years, now.” Absinthe smiled thinly. “But let’s not avoid the issue. Asya, are you doing okay?”
“How okay can I be? It’s killing me, Absinthe. What does he see in that girl? She’s so… Average.” I put my face in my hands. “I mean, she’s not pretty or smart. She’s not talented in any obvious ways. She’s not interesting. I don’t get it.”
“That’s mean, Asya. He loves her, and we need to accept that.”
“I know. I just… I know he’ll never fall for me, but can’t he at least pick someone better than her? It’s like some kind of cruel trick, seeing someone like that with him. Knowing that I’ll never make the cut hurts. But seeing someone as painfully average as her take the place that I want, the place I can never have... I’d hurt less if I set myself on fire.” I couldn’t start crying. Any minute, one of our dates could come back.
“If you still love Gael, Asya, why are you dating that guy?” Absinthe’s voice was soft, but her words were strategic. I knew she’d ask me that.
“I… I don’t know. I think… I think I just want to love anyone else.” My eyes aim towards the register where he waits in line. When I see him, I’m still numb. “But it’s not working.”
“Are you really in control right now? I’m worried that you’re falling back to where you were, starting with that relationship. He’s obviously a crutch, but he’s also enabling you.” Her hand slid onto my shoulder and I sat up to shrug it off.
“Don’t worry about me, Absinthe. I just… I feel like he’s the only way to stop going on like this. He’s the only chance I have. I can resist the temptation to drink. I know that I can. Just… If I can’t stop loving Gael, I’ll only worsen every day I’m still alive without him. I want to stop feeling like this. I want to be happy, Absinthe. Like I haven’t been for years…” I took a deep breath. Absinthe’s eyes flash towards the counter, and mine follow. My boyfriend is returning with the boxes.
“I want to talk to you later, Asya. Okay?” She whispers just before he reaches the table. I nod in answer before I give him my best false smile and help load the remaining slices of pizza into the boxes. Absinthe rises to meet her girlfriend at the register where she was still paying for the food.
We meet up at the door, exchanging the usual farewells before we split into pairs to drive home. My boyfriend gushes about how cool it was to hang out with my bandmates, and it takes all of my strength to pretend that I share his enthusiasm. When we get to his apartment, I push our leftovers into the fridge and embrace him.
I lead him to the bedroom and let out all of my pent-up frustrations in his bed. When it’s over, his excitement has faded to a quiet satisfaction. I try to appear like I feel the same way. As his breathing evens out with sleep, I stare into the dark, flinching at the visions my mind casts into the empty blackness before my eyes. The sight of Gael and that girl fills the room to haunt me.
***
The vision of Gael’s smile reminds me of a gig we played when we were sixteen. As we left the stage, the thrill from our song still filled me with excitement. My hands quivered. I turned to look back at the cheering people.
Instead, I saw Gael. As he walked offstage behind me, he waved at them. The stoic mask he wore melted into an elated and warm expression. It was the first time I’d seen him so happy. His eyes were soft, his lips curved into a grin that came to life all on its own. The lights of the stage made him glow beyond what was natural. He turned to face me, and I was breathless, as though meeting the gaze of an otherworldly being.
He tapped my shoulder, waking me from my trance. Realizing that I’d stopped halfway down the stairs, I returned to my descent. The image of him, however, remained in my mind. To see him so happy was the greatest bliss I’d ever known, and the warmth of it filled and revived me.
***
I squeezed my eyes shut. I’d seen that same expression on his face today, but this time he’d made it for that girl. It was painful to watch. Back then, he smiled at the progress of his music. I was a part of it. We were realizing his greatest dream. Today, I was an outsider. I shiver, but the blankets don’t offer me any warmth.
Trembling, I slip out of bed and shuffle through the darkness. As I approached the kitchen, the memory of his radiance was becoming distorted and poisoned. I go to the liquor cabinet, grasping the cool glass of a whiskey bottle. A nauseating ball forms in the pit of my stomach. I’m a failure. I’ll never be the one to make Gael glow like that. The bottle opens with a pop, a hitched breath tumbling from my lips. I raise the bottle to my mouth, filling myself with the numbing fire of the alcohol. I’ve known for years that it won’t fill the emptiness. I’ve learned that it won’t erase my pain forever. For now, though, it will make me forget a few hours of my torment. I’d drained half of the bottle before I curled up with it on the tile. For a few miserable hours, I cried and drank with the promise that I wouldn’t remember it all in the morning.
I wished that I could fall in love with Marcus, when in the morning he carried me to bed, half-conscious and tired enough to stay limp. When my body relaxed into the sheets. His hand brushed against my face, soft and caring. With all of my heart, I wished that I could muster up enough emotion to give him the love he has given to me. I slipped back into my dreamless sleep before I woke again to the sound of the TV. A celebrity news show was on and my boyfriend sat up on the bed, watching with excitement. I leaned up from my pillow to see what has piqued his interest, spying photos of Gael and the girl from last night. They were kissing in his car outside of the restaurant and the host of the show gushed about them. The blood in my veins turned to ice, the curiosity I had falling away to become a part of the overwhelming bitterness that filled me. The airheaded show host squealed about how ‘adorable it is that such a famous musical genius fell for one of his own fans.’ I wished that my boyfriend brought my half-finished bottle from last night into the bedroom with me. Before he started babbling about the news, I slid out of bed, grumbling about making breakfast, and slipped away into the kitchen.
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I stayed true to my word, trying to make the world’s laziest omelets for the two of us. As I stared at the sizzling eggs, I felt like I was going to cave in on myself. I found the bottle from last night and took a long sip in between the moments I spent poking and messing with the food. My inattentive and impatient cooking turned my omelets into rubbery scrambled eggs. I choked down as much as I could stomach before I presented the abundant remainder of them to my boyfriend, in the bedroom where I left him. The same story he watched when I left was on the screen, covered by a different channel. Blindly, he ate. I watched him for a moment. The story sucked him in enough that he didn’t seem to notice how terrible the food was. When they showed the kissing photo of Gael and the girl on screen again, I bit my lip. I made my egress to the kitchen again and had the rest of my breakfast from a whiskey bottle.
The morning was a haze, as I sat against the hard counters on the cold floor. I finished the bottle off hours ago, but I found that I felt no better with the liquor in my system. I curled in on myself, my clumsy body slipping a few times on the smooth tile before I hugged my legs successfully. Softly, I wept against my bare legs, squeezing them hard enough that I’d hurt there when I was sober again.
There was a buzzing against my chest. For the briefest of moments, I was confused until I touched the phone tucked into the pocket of my shirt. I pulled up the notification, the heavy emptiness inside of me only going deeper when I saw Digitalis’ name attached to it. I opened her message, remembering the last encounter I had with her. Briefly, I wondered if she wanted to confront me again, and my eyes hesitated to reach the words she sent me.
“I’m sorry.” It read.
I leaned back into the counter, telling myself that I should wait until I was sober to respond. It was too late. My drunken hands replied with little elegance, my fingers repeatedly retyped the misspelled and misplaced words until they were legible enough to convey that I would accept her apology. She read them but didn’t reply.
I lay on the floor for a few more hours, waving to my boyfriend when he gave me a water bottle before he left the house for work. I’d almost forgotten that he was home since I’d been alone in the kitchen all day. The fog in my head was lifting as the hours passed, and I’d started feeling normal again until my phone vibrated against my palm.
“Can I come over?” Digitalis messaged. I wished that I could read the emotions behind her words. I could only guess.
“Sure,” I replied, “It’s been a while.” I struggled to lift myself from the floor, dragging the water bottle and my phone with me. My legs had become weak and heavy, tingling from hours of being asleep. It took an eternity to reach the couch, and I chugged my water when I collapsed into the soft cushions. I was a corpse, enjoying a taste of my eternal rest as I blankly stared off into space and lay there like I was trying not to exist. It’s only when the doorbell chimed that I finally rose from my place. Digitalis was outside, her face cautious until she saw mine. She crashed through the door and hugged me like I’d died and come back to life.
“Asya, I thought I’d never see you again.” She clung to me, and it was hard to get the door shut while she had herself wrapped around my shoulders.
“Me, too.” I leaned awkwardly into her, my arms strangely numb from whatever alcohol still lingered in my veins. I didn’t know what I was doing, inviting her in after what happened in the studio. As she held me, I was so dead and so empty. I don’t think I even cared about the possibilities of what could happen.
It was almost dizzying, how I suddenly ended up on the couch beside her after the embrace ended, almost like I was suddenly just there with nothing between the actions. She was laughing, saying something I wasn’t listening to. It was only when I looked back into her eyes when my attention focused on her. While she finished laughing, I saw the smile drain from her face, her eyes looking lost and full of yearning even before the joy died on her lips. There was a tense moment where we just looked into each other’s eyes, each trying to read the other’s mind.
“Asya…” Her voice cut into the tension, sudden and shocking, like jumping into ice water. “I’m so happy to see you again. No one… No one really likes me. You’re the only friend I’ve ever had.” Her milky eyes searched mine, looking worried and afraid. It was heavy, taking in her words. If I was the only friend she’d ever had, I could only fathom the loneliness she experienced. I didn’t think that I could call myself a friend to anyone, lately. I’ve been failing myself and the people around me for so long, I wondered why I wasn’t completely alone by now.
“I’m sorry.” My voice sounded like someone else’s.
She sighed.
“I wasn’t being a good friend to you,” Digitalis admits. “I should have listened when you told me that you didn’t want me. I just… I’m so empty sometimes. I don’t know how to fill myself. I thought that maybe if we did that, I might have felt better. Even if it only lasted a moment…”
“I understand. I feel that way, too, sometimes.” My body was so hollow that I couldn’t even give my words inflection.
“Are you feeling okay? When I saw the news this morning, I… I thought you might be down.” I could almost hear her toes dancing across the imaginary eggshells between us. She was tense, her eyes cautious, and she put almost a full foot of space between us on the couch. Even asking me how I felt, she seemed to expect rejection.
“I’m not okay, Digitalis.” I close my eyes, only opening them to stare at the table when the darkness behind my eyelids produces the images of that dull woman and Gael together. I felt the light touch of tentative hands on my shoulders, sliding slowly, carefully, to my back in a shy hug.
“I wish I could make him love you.” She whispers.
I’d wished that for so long that it seemed immoral by now.
“No. I knew that he’d never love me. But why must he love a girl like her?” I admit my feelings to her. “If it were a beautiful and talented woman, at least then I could understand why she draws his eye. But that girl… There’s nothing to her at all. I beat her in everything but kindness.” As I say the words, I am the lowest person on earth, saying such blunt and cruel words about a person who never wronged me. Digitalis was the only one who would never hold that against me. She loosened her arms and sat back up, ending the embrace.
“Gael is a genius, but he’s a fool for not seeing your value.”
“No. I’m rich, famous, and good looking. Beyond all of that, there’s nothing left of me. I might be better than her, but I’m still worthless.” My words are whispers, and I’m hearing them on the outside rather than the inside of my head. Tears fill my eyes as I repeat the mantra I’ve told myself from within the deepest layers of my mind for years. I don’t know when my confidence faded into a mere facade to become the ugly self-loathing that I got in the absence of it. Yet, I knew when I said those words it had happened. Inside, I was worthless. Although that girl was a boring nothing of a person, she was still worth more than me. Gael loved her because she wasn’t void of everything like I was. Perhaps I’ve always been this way, and my confidence had always been an illusion.
I was leaning forward, collapsing slowly like a mound of molasses on a plate. Digitalis caught me again in her arms and I cried against her. As empty and as worthless as I was, I still took the comfort she offered me. As her hands grazed my back in circles, I knew that I didn’t deserve the affection, but I took it anyway.
“Do you want to hang out sometimes? Like we used to?” Her voice was shy when she broke the silence with her question. I didn’t speak, but I nodded into her shoulder. Her hands tightened against my back, and I imagined the relief in her eyes.
For a minute, I wasn’t aware that I had gone back to the routines I used to follow. Digitalis and I talked over glasses of wine during the day when we didn’t have to work. At night, my boyfriend would come home and we’d unwind with a case of beer and mindless TV. When they disappeared together into the bathroom to do pills, I’d retrieve whiskey from the cabinet and sink into the couch until my hands couldn’t grip the bottle anymore. Most mornings, I’d wake on the couch with one or both of them filling the room with their gentle, sleeping breaths.
I woke, my eyes glazing over the images on the TV as the plastic newswoman talked about the coming rain. Digitalis groaned when she rose from the carpet, her lipstick smeared across her cheek by the loveseat as she slept on it. My eyes didn’t follow her as she took a seat beside me, the cushions sinking in beneath her in a way that made my body slide sideways. I blinked and tried to regain myself, looking to her face. She was glaring at the TV as she flicked through the channels. She skipped past a soap opera and a couple news channels. The channel lingered only a moment on a talk show, though still long enough to wound me. They were discussing Gael.
Digitalis clicked it off and threw the remote onto the carpet, taking her forehead into her hand before dragging back the hair that hung over her eyes. The sigh she let loose was deep and edged with inner tension.
“Gael…” She muttered. For a moment, she squeezed her eyes shut, her teeth visibly clenched by the tightness of her jaw. “Do you know how hard it is to find work without the band, Asya?” I squeezed my arm with my fingertips, digging my nails a bit, to retrieve even just a scrap of the focus I lost in my sleep. “Even after I left, I found myself lost in his shadow. Will I ever escape, Asya? Am I good enough to be a star without riding his coattails? No label wants me anymore. Few people show up for my solo performances, probably a thousand on good days. I have nothing left.”
“We’d take you back, Digitalis.” I offer feebly. Her frustrated face crumpled into an anger. Her eyes pierced into me.
“I will not admit defeat to that smug fucker!” She shouted before the anger in her eyes drained away into fear. Softly, her voice returned, “I… I can’t go back.”
She got up from the couch, going into the bathroom after scooping up some pills that were scattered across the floor from last night. From the couch, I pulled out the bottle of whiskey that I failed to finish. I felt it scorch my raw throat as it slid down into me, ravaging me where my vomit burned me last night.
I don’t remember when I passed out, but the evening light is painting my living room with gold when I open my eyes again. My boyfriend is home from work, lecturing me for ignoring the mess we made the night before. I don’t hear a word of it. He is plucking pills from the carpet and I rise, still sore all over, to help him clean.
Digitalis entered the room after the cleaning was about done. She looked more awake now. She helped me pull an empty bottle from under the coffee table before she stopped my hands.
“Asya, I… I was wondering.” She looked nervous enough to catch my attention. Her eyes, often bold, were strangely timid. “I can’t join the band again, but… Do you think maybe… If you asked… Would…” She was quiet for a moment, taking a breath. “Would Gael give me an independent contract in his label?” Her eyes met mine, pleading. I looked back at them, empty.
“Tomorrow, when we’re both completely sobered up, I’ll take you to ask him yourself.” I look away from her when I know that she’ll make a face that I won’t like.
“Do you think he’ll let me have one, Asya? I don’t know how to ask... “ Digitalis insisted, and I can imagine that pleading note in her eyes again.
“I haven’t spoken to Gael outside of work for months, now,” I stated. Marcus goes into the bathroom, and the two of us have privacy.
“Because of that girl?” Digitalis’ interest was becoming irritation.
“Mostly.” I managed to say. It was becoming harder to speak over a whisper because of the thoughts that filled my head. Images of that girl haunted me: holding the hand I’ve never held, kissing the lips that never kissed me back. Worst of all, it hurt remembering how she laughed with the man who would never love me.
Digitalis sighed. “You’ll never be over him, will you?” She muttered.
I sensed that she’d been losing interest for a while in my unrequited love for Gael, so I almost expected the comment. It would have stung me months ago, but now it just stuck to me and faded into a numbness that would become pain again later. I didn’t respond to her scornful words, merely walking into the kitchen to scrounge for food. Living on liquor for the last few days was taking its toll. Digitalis pouted in the living room, probably annoyed that I wouldn’t do everything she wanted. I ate a sleeve of saltines and a spoonful of peanut butter, both tasting like ashes in my mouth. I take another bottle to bed with me and end my night in a numb haze.