Chapter 37 – How to Lose Your Mind In One Night

It's been a long time coming since I've seen your face

And I've never went back trying to replace everything that I broke till my feet went numb

Praying like a fool that just shot a gun

Heart still beating but it's not working

It's like a hundred thousand voices that just can't sing 

I reach out trying to love but I feel nothing   --OneRepublic

I had no idea why they call it victory party if there wasn’t anything won. I sure didn’t have any. Not even close. After several handshakes and exchange of small talks—the most boring part of being an artist—with people I only met for the first time in my entire life, I found a sweet spot inside the party hall. It was a small table in a hidden little corner just beside the bar tender.

Yeah, I had all intent of getting drunk tonight until I couldn’t tell the difference between a girl and a lamp post anymore. I needed to feel numb. I wanted to black out of this mess. Since I was in a party, I might as well party.

Chuck shouted at me from the dance floor. I couldn’t hear him through blaring B.E.P song. Either that or the alcohol was already kicking in. From what I could make out, he was dancing with this girl from a cookie commercial. The new flavor of the month, I guessed.

I raised my glass to him and nodded. Dancing wasn’t my thing. Plus, I was in no mood to make a fool of myself what with all the press invited in here.

I was on my third round of scotch when someone patted me on the shoulder. It was Dad, giving me that sort of worried look that I really hated with a passion.

Yeah, Dad. I’m a mess. Tell me about it.

Forcefully, I managed to twitch my face into what was supposed to be an ‘I’m okay’ smile. I just hoped it worked.

“Hey,  Dad? Just having a few drinks here. What d’you want?” I said, calling the bar tender’s attention to hide the dismay on my face.

Arthur just shook his blond head. He’d quit drinking ever since he had that heart operation that sounded like lettuce… Or cabbage. I couldn’t really remember. The last few years passed by like a big blur and I wasn’t even on drugs.

“Are you okay, Leon?” he yelled near my ear so I could hear. That didn’t just rhyme, did it?

“Uh… Yeah!” I replied, exerting an effort to make my smile bigger. “Of course, I’m okay. How could I not be Okay? Okay is my middle name.” I sniggered mindlessly as I took a few swigs from my glass, staring at it for while before turning my attention back to Dad.

He shook his head again. I couldn’t fool Arthur Walden. He must be Sherlock Holmes in his past life. Or a bloodhound.  

Before things could go downhill, I looked around and struggled for an alibi. Across the room, I found a familiar face. The middle-aged dark-haired guy talking with some models—who I never remembered inviting—was a photographer. We’d done pictorials with him twice or thrice during our recent stay in NYC. I just couldn’t remember his name. Was it Chris Loveres? Ben Meneses?

“Oh, look,” I told Dad, managing to sound almost excited. “It’s Chris! I’ll just… go meet him.”

As I nudged my way through the crowd, I heard Dad calling me back. I pretended to dance, raising my glass over head so people won’t tip over my scotch. I didn’t get acting awards for nothing.

“Hi,” I greeted the brown-skinned photographer and the girls talking to him. My mouth opened twice but I couldn’t really remember his name so I just grinned and steeled my face.

“Chris,” the guy answered with a smile, offering his hand to me. “Chris Meneses.”

“Yeah, of course,” I answered shaking his hand. “Chris. You did our pictorial for the single. How can I forget you, my man?”

The two blond girls were all smiles at me, whispering to each others’ ears. I wasn’t sure if it was the scotch. But when I blinked, one of the girls suddenly looked a lot like Sarah. Or maybe it was the screws in my head going loose.

Blinking hard twice, I tried to focus on Chris. “I just wanna tell you how awesome the photo’s turned out.” Distractedly, I threw a furtive glance across the room to where Dad stood watching me. “Won’t you introduce me to these lovely ladies?”

Chris must be a very patient man because he was able to tolerate my nonsense blabbing for the last two minutes. Even I was starting to get pissed with myself. Graciously, he told me the girls’ names. I made no effort to remember them or their faces. All I did was smile like I’d just won a Grammy.

I wanted to shake Dad off my tail. For God’s sake, I was twenty-two. Not some toddler who needed parental supervision while watching TV. Unluckily for me, British people tend to stick with their kids. And supposedly, vice versa. Or at least, that was Dad’s alibi.

“So how long are you guys going to stay here?” Chris asked just as I was craning my neck to see if Dad finally left me alone. “Leon?”

“Uh… a few days, maybe a week,” I replied distractedly. I wished the music wasn’t so loud. It gave me a terrible headache. Luckily, Dad was nowhere to be found. “You got a pictorial here?”

“Yeah.” He looked around as if looking for someone. “It’s just a small project but I’m planning to stay in Boston for a few weeks. I’m training someone from around here and she’s got some real talent. Where’s that girl, by the way?”

“She went to get us some drinks,” one of the blonds told me, rolling her eyes as if getting drinks for other people was such an embarrassing job. “What’s taking her so long?”

“Know what?” Chris pulled me to a corner. “I’ll be covering for a bunch of kids in Gloucester tomorrow after lunch. Some preschool pastiche shot for a local mag. It’s supposed to be heart warming and stuff. Why don’t you come check it out? Socialize. Do some autograph. It’ll be good publicity.”

Chris slid out a business card from the inside pocket of his shiny pin striped suit and wrote something at the back. He handed it to me, looking a bit too eager. Honestly, I didn’t think I’d ever be in the mood to go out anytime soon but I nodded. Between the two of us, I wasn’t the one who’d need publicity. I’d had enough of the press sticking their noses into my private life. Not that I had a real ‘life’ to begin with.

“Yeah, sure.” I pocketed the card. “That sounds cool, man. I’ll see if my manager can arrange my schedule.”

I lost track of the time. Lost count how many drinks I had. Chris kept talking about his new trainee and this and that. Couldn’t keep track of the rest. Didn’t pretend to listen either.

It took a while before Chris finally took a hint that I really needed to be somewhere else. He kept repeating that I should come to this photo shoot. Frankly, I’d better things to do. Well, not really, but I was planning to mope all month. Or better yet, jump in front of a subway train. Seen that on YouTube. It wasn’t pretty but it seemed a bit easy.

I took my time as I went back to my spot behind the bar. With a sigh, I slumped on the stool, resting my arms on the counter. A few acquaintances passed by, patting me on the shoulder, saying their congratulations. Some girls tried to chat with me. Most of them held me in ways I should’ve liked. But for the moment, I just wanted to be left alone.

Until now, I still couldn’t believe that Sarah was gone. I just couldn’t make myself face that fact. All those letters made me believe that she was still there in Freddy’s house waiting for me to come home.

Funny thing about friends is you’d think they’d just be there forever. You’d think you’d all grow old together and laugh about the stupid things you’d done as kids. Reality might be a lot harsher than that. Truth is that people die.

I shook the ice cubes in my glass and stared at it. It was like the whole room was in slo-mo and everything was spinning around me. When I looked harder, peoples’ faces began to turn funny. First, I thought I saw a girl with a camera pass by. The weird thing was she looked exactly like Sarah from the face, to the hair, to the figure. Then suddenly, every girl that passed by suddenly had long brown hair and happy blue eyes. And when they spoke, Sarah’s timid but sweet voice seemed to echo inside my skull.

“What’s wrong, Leon?”

“Are you okay, Leon?”

“Don’t be like this, Leon…”

When I ignored the voices and tried to order another drink, even the bar tender seemed to look a lot like Sarah. Maybe, I was really going nuts.

Out of the blue, I started laughing. I laughed so hard I wanted to throw up. I laughed until my throat hurt. I laughed until people were staring at me. I laughed so hard that tears came out of the sides of my eyes. Frankly, I couldn’t care less how I must’ve looked like.

“That’s enough, Leon.”

Only that voice didn’t sound like Sarah’s. But it was familiar. Too familiar, actually, to the point that I wanted to cover my ears.

“I… can tell when I had enough,” I said, smugly turning around, barely able to do so without holding onto the counter. “Nate.”

Nathan crossed his arms in front of him, an annoying bored look on his face like he couldn’t care less if I streaked across the hall butt-naked now but would be secretly amused about it.

Beside him was a dark-haired girl with a steely gaze. I assumed she was Nate’s new leading lady for Cain II. Summer Daye, if I remembered it right. The name itself was a bit too pretentious to ignore. So was she. Couldn’t tell if she was all that pretty as Chuck had been raving about for the past weeks but she was okay looking to me. Although she might be real tough-looking for a softy like my brother.

“It’s alright, Leon,” Nathan said in a hushed tone as he carefully approached me like I was some maniac on the loose. Weird. “We’ll just go home and call it a night.”

Unbelievable.

“Really?” I laughed bitterly, pushing myself from the counter so I could stare back at him. Honestly, I was already seeing two Nathans. Everyone around us was already hazy. “It’s alright? How can anything be alright, Nate? Nothing’s alright! She’s gone… Nate. How can that ever be alright?!” I choked out through my teeth and drew one long deep breath.

Note to self—never get so angry and so drunk at the same time. It’d make you sound like Jim Carrey in a dramatic monologue. Tch.

“C’mon, buddy,” Chuck said, suddenly appearing behind me. He took a hold of me and pulled me back from the crowd. “Let’s get you somewhere quiet.”

Forcefully, I shrugged him away, nearly stumbling on a chair as I did. Luckily, I managed to grab onto a nearby table and stagger my way back to my feet before my face crashed on the floor. People started to gather around us. It was a little too late when I realized that I was making a scene.

I hurriedly made my way to the hall exit, nudging through a number of whispering spectators. There were a few camera flashes before I started running. I lurched from one hallway to another, barely remembering the way to the parking lot.

As I arrived to the hotel lobby, I snatched a passing bell boy by the arm and asked for directions. I must’ve looked like some psycho. The bell boy looked like he’d crap his pants when he stuttered and spazzed to show me the directions.

My cheek felt cold and numb. I opened my eyes when I heard a soft ding and the metal doors sliding. Must’ve dozed off in the elevator. No idea how I brought myself in there. I rubbed my eyes and blinked. It was all gray pillars and yellow stripes where I’d stepped in. I was in the parking lot, a’ right.

I plodded out of the elevator while I looked for the keys in my suit pockets. It took me a while to find them and when I did, I realized I had bigger problems than finding my keys. Like, first, I couldn’t remember where I’d parked my car and second, drunk driving is illegal. But since, I was too drunk to care, I wandered all over the parking lot. Err… more like stumble. A lot.

When I couldn’t handle all the whirring and the tripping, I leaned on a concrete column and tried to catch my breath. I was barely able to take in a couple of lungfuls of air before I felt the bile rising up to my throat. I bent over and heaved. I’d never felt so sick in my entire life. I thought it wasn’t gonna stop.

“Oh, God. Are you alright?”

I froze and wiped my mouth on my sleeves. It was that voice again. Her voice.

“Excuse me? Uhm… Do you maybe need any help?” The voice asked. It sounded so real.

I didn’t move. I didn’t look. I knew my mind was playing tricks on me. I heaved again, coughing as I did, telling myself that it’d soon end. It’d all soon get better.

I felt an awkward hand on my back. It was like the owner was hesitant, almost in panic. Still, I didn’t look up. All I saw was her light blue dress, the gray knitted cardigan and an SLR dangling from her neck.

Press!

The second, I noticed the camera, I squirmed away from her hold. My head bumped on the column as she was forced to let me go. And for a minute or two, all I could see were black and stars. Literally.

The next thing I knew, I was already lying on the ground. The dim light on the parking lot ceiling glared back at me. I blinked many times, letting my eyes adjust first but the fluorescent had already left a half-moon shaped burn in them. It was soft and warm under my head.

“You’re awake?” Again with the voice.

A face covered the light from the ceiling and casted a shadow over me. It was strikingly similar to Sarah’s. If I wasn’t too drunk that I could barely open my eyes, I’d say it was her.

“Where’s your car?” she asked, leaning down over me so that some of her wavy brown locks fell on my face. She faintly smelled like green apples.

With my eyes half-closed, I sniggered at her. “Not sure.”

“Fantastic,” she muttered, almost smiling but not quite. “Let’s just hope it’s blue.”

“How’d you know?” I murmured, still grinning for all the world like Nate would if he were allowed to go to NASA.

“You’re Leon Walden,” she answered matter-of-factly. “You love blue.”

Of course. Anyone would know that. Every Four O’clock Deadline band profile published or in footage said so. All my guitars were specially customized in blue. All my cars too. I liked wearing blue most of the time. And if and when a blue grand piano with blue and blue keys is available, I’d buy it. It was virtually impossible for journalist like herself to not know that.

She began to lift my head off her lap then slung my arm over her petite shoulders. With one throaty huff, she hauled us both off the cement floor, swaying as she did. Steadying her feet, she took one careful step, then another.

I kept staring at her—if watching through half-closed lids could be called staring—noting every detail of her face, the freckles on her cheek and everything… everything was exactly her. Sarah.

Shaking my head, I closed my eyes. My mind was really playing tricks on me.

After several minutes, she miraculously found my car. I sagged down from her hold twice while she was trying to open the door to the shotgun seat. I couldn’t seem to feel my legs much. Now, it’d be nice to just fall in my bed and sleep it all off.

“A little help here,” she muttered as she propped me in between the car and herself. “Leon,” she called, gently tapping my cheek before I could doze off again and slip down.

Once she’d opened the door, she practically pushed me into the cab. As she did, she lost balance and fell on top of me. She was out of breath when she finally lifted her face off my chest. It could just be me but her face seemed really red as she scrambled off me and ran around the hood to get in the driver’s seat.

“Okay,” she paused to take in a deep breath. “Do you want to tell me where you’re staying?”

“Not really,” I mumbled, my head lolling to the side.

“This is going to be a tough night,” she moaned before starting the engines.

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will edit this later :)