Dancing In The Stars

- 23 -

- Scorpio -

I stare at the wall ahead of me, the sound of blaring music echoing in my ears. I was here two days ago. I was here two years ago, and both times, I never expected to come back. Yet here I am again, alone.

"Sir, excuse me. Sir!" the bartender yells.

"What?" I snap at her.

"Buy something or get out,"

"Give me a shot of vodka,"

She nods and pours it in a second. She walks over to somebody else and continues pouring.

I stare at the pool of liquid. It's so clear I could see my reflection. You could think it was water, I mean, if you didn't have a sense of smell. It doesn't seem like something poisonous. It definitely doesn't seem like something that could ruin your life, and the scent isn't appetizing enough to make you want it over and over again. Yet it is. It is, it is, and it is all three of those things.

"Vodka, huh?" a voice perks up beside me. I look over to see a blonde, her green eyes shining at me.

I nod.

"Can I buy you something stronger?" She leans forward, revealing more cleavage.

"No," I turn away.

"Oh, okay," she stands up and turns to the counter, leaning onto the counter. As her back arches, her booty shorts go even further up her ass. I roll my eyes.

"Sure you don't want anything?" She turns her head to me.

"Actually, I'd appreciate it if you left,"

She raises her eyebrows and stares at me for a minute before shaking her head as if I was supposed to ask her to sleep with me, then she walks away. Finally.

I drink the shot. It comes as a shock, like the feeling you get when you're falling asleep and you feel like you're physically falling.

The taste of the drink is so familiar, but also so strange. It's cooling, but it leaves a chalky aftertaste.

The feeling I get afterwards is unexplainable, a mix of guilt, fear, shame, and strangely enough, I feel refreshed. I feel normal.

Is that what it is? Is it normal for me to be an alcoholic?

"More," I say to the bartender. She fills another shot.

I down this one too, and I definitely feel more like myself than I've felt in a long time.

- Leo -

I just spent the last half hour making a perfect tray of breakfast for Libra, because it seems like all she does everyday is eat and sleep, and there's nothing I can say to stop her because she'd just respond saying she's tired and she's sick.

I don't blame her, except that I do. I understand that she's going through a lot but that doesn't give her the right to sit down and complain about it, especially when she isn't doing shit to fix it.

I miss her. I mean, I miss her. She isn't herself anymore. She doesn't make jokes, or laugh. She doesn't tease me with little kisses, she doesn't ask to have movie nights as an excuse to cuddle because she's too prideful to admit that she wants to be held. She doesn't do anything, and I miss her.

I open the door. She spots the tray in my hand and she sits up so that she can eat. Today, she doesn't even mumble a thank you.

I give her the food and she takes a little bite of the sandwich, but it's like she's moving in slow motion. She tells me everyday that she feels too weak to hold her hands up.

"Get the treatment,"

She doesn't answer.

"I'm not asking anymore, Li. I'm telling you that you're getting the treatment,"

"You can't-"

"Get the treatment, or I'm leaving you!"

She puts the sandwich down. I exhale slowly and swallow the lump in my throat, hardly believing the words that just came out of my mouth.

"I need you alive," I say, quietly this time. She doesn't answer, so I repeat it louder, "I need you alive!"

"Fine, you selfish bastard! I'll get the treatment!"

She throws the tray towards me, but I duck and it goes over me. It slams into the wall, and glass shatters. I stare at the white wall, now with dripping orange juice on it and a dent from the metal tray. She looks away, her face red with anger and shame. She isn't herself anymore.