Learn to Fly

Come As You Are

A knock sounded on my door the next morning, waking me up. I was curled up in an awkward position on an armchair by the wall, my hand still clutching the neck of my guitar, two empty bottles standing on the floor, along with many cigarettes.

The person knocked again, louder, and I pushed the guitar aside, getting up from the armchair. My shoulders and neck were stiff from my awkward sleeping position, and I rubbed my legs, trying to get the feeling back into them.

This time the door was literally banged.

"Coming, coming," I muttered, going over to the door.

It was Jose, one hand raised to knock again. I winced inwardly at seeing him. He was probably here to grill me out about last night.

"Hi?" I said uncertainly.

"Hey. I just came to see how you were doing," he replied easily, as I pulled the door wider.

"I didn't kill myself last night, if that's what you're wondering," I said wearily, walking back into the room as he followed me.

He didn't reply, frowning as he looked at the empty beer bottles.

"So you're probably dying to know that how the cool and collected actress, Jasmine Kingston, is the mother of this trainwreck," I started coldly, wanting to just get it over with so he could just go back to not talking to me. He started to say something, but I cut him off. "That Jasmine was stupid enough to fall for my father, stupid enough to marry him, and then stupid enough to have me. And then she fixed all her mistakes by abandoning me and showing just how many fucks she gave about her stupid daughter. And now that stupid daughter is a fucking mess about to kill herself any day soon. Happily ever after."

Tears were running down my face by the time I finished, and I turned away from Jose, furious and disgusted with myself. I was supposed to be over this, I was supposed to not care anymore, like she so obviously didn't.

I felt Jose's hands on my shoulders as he turned me around to face him. He pulled me into a hug, and, after a moment of hesitation, I melted into his embrace, breathing in his musky scent. My tears continued to flow, soaking Jose's shirt as he gently stroked my hair.

"It'll be okay."

"Thanks," I said, pulling away and wiping my face. "And I'm sorry."

He gave a dry laugh and ran a hand through his shaggy hair. "I should be the one who should be apologizing for being an asshole."

"I don't even remember what it was about."

"Neither do I," he replied, grinning down at me. "As mum would say, we're obstinate mules."

"Quite a remarkable pair," I murmured, pushing back my hair.

"So what d'you say to a road trip?" he asked.

"To where?"

"That's classified information."

"The whole Bond thing doesn't work on me, Josie."

"God knows what does," he muttered, and my gaze snapped up, locking with his, and his eyes burned into mine.

"Let me change," I said, breaking away and pointing to the dress I was still wearing from last night.

Jose left my room and I pulled off my dress and headed into the bathroom. I brushed my teeth, wondering why Jose hadn't screamed and ran at the sight of me. I honestly looked like a zombie, hair messed up, dark circles under my eyes and pale and translucent skin. The eyeliner I'd so expertly applied last night had smudged and run down my cheeks with my tears, leaving long black trails across my face. Ever since the tour had started I hadn't been eating properly, and now it was starting to show with my bones sticking out more than usual.