My Empire of Dirt

Tell Me that You're More Than a Sick Fascination

Johnny stepped out of the uber, giving the driver a handsome tip before he grabbed his bags and turned, staring up at his beach house.

It had been a quick flight to the small island off the coast of California, and thankfully he didn't have any jetlag.

He couldn't remember when was the last time he had stayed there. Perhaps after he got cleans for the first time? He was unsure.

Johnny was keenly aware of the supplies he had in his bag, it was almost like it was mocking him. He wanted to get clean, he really did...he just brought enough to wean himself off of it, he learned from the last time he tried to get clean on his own that going cold turkey was a horrible idea. That's the excuse that he told himself anyway.

The singer stepped up to the door and pulled it open, looking around at the fairly large house with a sigh. This would be his home for the next two or so months, he might as well enjoy it.

He pulled out his phone to check the time, the photo of Gretchen and himself hugged up together with his lips pressed to the side of her head that he had set as his lockscreen staring back at him, almost accusingly.

'You could still have this if you weren't such a fuck up!' It practically growled in Johnny's mind.

The singer let out a shaky breath and walked into the main part of the house, sitting his bags down on the floor. He looked around the room, a small smile spreading across his lips as memories of the past times he had stayed there, surrounded by friends, peirs, social climbers and groupies.

He couldn't speak too badly about the past, even with the pain and anguish, there were still good times, great times even.

He glanced at the couch and nearly laughed out loud as he remembered waking up there with Lily after a rager at the beach house. A few unknown girls, and Vic was laying upside down on the furniture, cuddling a bottle of Hennessy to his chest like a teddy bear.

Johnny blinked heavily, groaning at the light in his eyes and the throbbing pain in his head from the severe hangover. He started to sit up, but quickly realized that Lily was laying on top of him, her face pressed into his collarbone and her arms wrapped around his waist.

She was naked, save for a pair of bikini bottoms and so was Johnny, save for a pair of swim shorts. He ran his hands down the smooth skin of her back and lifted his head up to look over her. Two women around their age- one short and curvy with vibrant green hair and covered in tattoos and the other a ta tall and thin with long brown hair and fair skin- were curled up together on the other side of the couch and between them, and himself and Lily, was Vic with his legs up on the back of the couch and his head hanging off the seat, a bottle of liquor hugged tightly between his arms, his hair was tangled up in a pair of panties and he had lipstick smeared across his face.

"Lily." Johnny whispered softly, nudging at her side as he struggled not to laugh.

Lily groaned and pressed her face further into the singer's neck. "Fuck off." She grumbled.

"No, look." He urged quietly, reaching out to the coffee table to get his phone and snap a photo of the guitarist.

Lily finally glanced back and had to bite down on her lip to keep from laughing out loud, and turned back into Johnny's chest, nipping at his collarbone playfully.

"Oh my God, you have to send me that later, we'll use it for blackmail next time he doesn't share his weed." She whispered in Johnny's ear, making him chuckle. He loved how her fucking mind worked.