I need to stop biting my nails. I thought I'd broken the habit years ago, but it must still be a nervous thing since I can't keep them out of my mouth at the moment. There's a certain amount of foot tapping going on too. Why is nobody ever around when I need them?
"Hey, you've reached Justin. I'm busy right now but leave me a message and I'll call you back."
An unnecessarily high pitched beep sounds in my ear, and I take it as my cue to leave the message. "Hey, Memphis, it's English. Umm… I guess you're not around, I was just calling for some sanity. It's just, uhh, Lily's got some friends over and they're kinda loud and stuff. I don't know them too well and… never mind. I'm just being silly. Call me soon and we'll chat, yeah? See ya babe."
Oh that was pathetic. I suppose the desperation of being unable to reach Trace or Rachael and having nobody else to call made me pathetic. That would make sense, since having nobody else to call is equally pitiable. Justin's been working hard on a video shoot all day; he's probably still there and shooting from what he told me about the process, which sounded lengthy. I didn't need to bug him with stupid voice messages about me being a wimp.
I am a wimp, hiding in my bedroom. For the first five minutes I was stupidly happy about the fact that she'd brought people home for once. Firstly because it meant she wasn't dead in a ditch somewhere (if there are any ditches in Los Angeles), and secondly because I hoped that if I could chat to these people she's friends with I would be reassured that she's okay, and who knows, maybe get friendly with them myself. It only took me five minutes to get the impression that I'd been overly optimistic, and ten to decide I did not want to be there.
They're extremely loud, for one thing. Even putting aside the fact that it's my iPod they've cranked up to insane volume without asking, they're now yelling to talk over the music. That makes no sense to me; why would you do that when you're in a private apartment and not a club? Why if you want to talk would you blast music out at so many decibels you have to yell? It's preventing me from burying myself under my duvet and ignoring them, because I can hear every word very clearly through the floor. They're all acting like they're still in a club, too. Drinks are getting spilled and smashed underfoot, they're sloppy drunk (though I suppose they must have been before they even got here to be so far gone) and I think when I went downstairs to grab an apple that I saw something going up someone's nose. Two guesses as to what that could be.
I'm in shock, but I'm also kind of scared. My father always warned me that I'd had a sheltered life on Adora but I never really believed him. Like any son or daughter, I thought he was being a typical parent who didn't know what mischief their kid got into. Now I can see he was right - the worst I've seen is a bit of weed smoking, the idea that they're passing coke around in there shocks me. I mean, I know it's rife in the fashion scene and in big cities, but despite that knowledge that the idea that Lily might be involved with anyone who did it just never entered my brain for so much as a millisecond. What I know and what I considered any kind of possibility never really interacted with each other in my head. Now it makes horrible sense - she's rich, she runs with a rich crowd. They're exactly the kind of people who can afford it in exactly the kind of industry where it's considered socially acceptable. I hope she's not doing it too, but it would explain some things.
The scared part of me - which is also kind of angry, come to think of it - is wondering precisely how badly these people behave when high. There is a bunch of drug taking strangers in my front room and even if they are with Lily, I don't feel safe. There's no lock on my bedroom door, but even if there was they're still in my home with all my stuff and my best friend. Since I've never seen anybody coked up I have no idea what to expect. If they were all stoned or simply drunk without the coke taking I could deal with it; I wouldn't be any happier but at least I'd know what I had to look forward to. Right now I feel a bit helpless and pathetic and afraid to even go downstairs in my own apartment. I'm angry at being put in that position, but more than anything it's the anxiety that's working on my last nerve.
Which is why I was desperately trying to reach Trace or Rachael or Justin - I figure that being around the entertainment industry they'd be able to reassure me, let me know what I'm in for, but none of them are available. Trace and Rachael aren't answering texts or calls, and Justin obviously went to voicemail.
The doorbell ringing is a welcome relief.
Quickly I run downstairs to open it. I'm not surprised that Lily has made no effort to, but then I'm amazed I managed to hear the intercom (we have one in every room, it's the ultimate in laziness) and I'm not the one sitting by the speakers. When I open the door it's Alex, clutching a large presentation binder. It looks like he said 'hi' but I can't lip read very well so I put the door on the latch and step out into the hallway, shutting it behind me. The music is still stupidly loud but at least I'll be able to hear him.
"Man that's loud. Party?"
"No, just some obnoxious friends of Lily's."
"Fun." He rolls his eyes. "Anyway, I'll spare you the preamble. I came over to ask a huge favour."
"Oh?" I ask. I should have known this wasn't a social visit.
"I know I said you could have tomorrow off, but I just had this dumped on me by Frank and he wants it done by close of business tomorrow. I've done as much of it as I can, but I'm in an all day meeting with buyers and it still needs proof reading and shit and everybody's swamped. I can't even try the ol' all nighter on it since I'm already doing that for meeting prep. I'm really sorry, can you help me out?"
Part of me wants to get really pissed off by that rather cheeky request, but two things have stopped me. One is the mention of Frank, who is unofficially referred to in the office as SME whenever Elena's not around. SME may sound like a Peter Pan character but it actually stands for Scariest Motherfucker Ever. The second is that Alex's request was uncharacteristically humble and apologetic. Now, that makes it sound like he's usually a bastard and he's not, but he tends to take it for granted that since he's the boss and you're the underling he asks and you do. He's not an ass about it, but he's never exactly falling over himself to make it sound like you have a choice.
"No that's fine." I shrug. It was more of a mental health day than anything, I had no set plans.
"You're an angel, thank you," he says with a relieved smile. "Just call reception when you're done and we'll send the courier. Thanks gorgeous, you've saved my ass."
"What else is new?"
He manages to chuckle at that. "Yeah. Actually I wanted to talk to you about that fine ability, but maybe now's not the time with the nightclub you're running in there?"
"Ugh." I shake my head and give a little shudder. "I have a bunch of coked up friends of Lily's in my living room and no idea what to do about it."
"Oh." His total lack of surprise fits neatly in with my theory that it's rife in fashion. "Not much you can do about it if Lily's invited them. Won't she kick them out?"
"She's totally ignoring me."
"I had a roommate who used to do shit like that, have a ton of parties and let his friends BYO. I used to do the occasional line myself, no big deal, but they all turned into druggies and then they started calling the dealers over to our place. I drew the line there."
"You mean they don't all turn into druggies?" I let out an unconvinced huff. The look on his face tells me he knows what I'm insinuating and he finds that view naïve. The reply I get is totally candid and very matter of fact. "No, they don't. With some people it's like social smoking, they do it once in a while and then one day they just never do it again and don't notice the difference, I was like that. Some people go through a stage and then get bored… I ain't tellin' you it's smart or it's right, but it's the real world. A lot of people wind up trying it in this industry. The real problem comes if you go overboard and get hooked; that's when you got trouble. You know if Lily's been using?"
"No." I shrug. "This is the first I knew of this; she's been out partying a lot."
"Hmm. Well, I'd keep an eye on her." He shrugs. "This happens a lot in this business and mostly it turns out okay, so long as she's not doing the hard stuff too often."
"It's not her I'm worried about so much as the random strangers in my living room. I have no idea who any of them are or what they might do, they're all shit faced to begin with even without the coke."
I push my hand over my forehead, frowning fiercely. It's a lie that I'm not worried about Lily, I care about her way more than any of those wankers she's hanging with, but at least I have some idea of how to handle her if she goes off on one. What Alex seems to be saying is that it's life and if she's only doing it once in a while nothing terrible is likely to happen; I'm unconvinced, I've read too many tales of people dying on their first try of drugs and them being laced with all sorts of horrible things. Still, I suppose I can see that realistically he's merely giving me his firsthand experience. He and people he knows have done it once in a while and walked away with no ill effects. Problem is that I have no idea how often Lily's been doing it - or if she's even done it at all, it wasn't her I spotted snorting. I've noticed her looking extremely tired and worn down, but is that alcohol and late nights alone or is she overdoing it on coke?
More to the point… where was I when this was all happening? She's fallen in with some total gits, it's obvious, but where was I?
It worries me that I had no idea, and that I was so dismissive. I'm now feeling incredibly guilty for having had this down in my head as her ignoring me or shutting me out. It seems very middle school of me to have treated this like it was some 'but you're MY friend' thing. What if it's me who's been ignoring her and not being there for her when she needs me? I do work some stupid hours, maybe she turned to them because I wasn't here? We've always had fun but she's never been a huge partier, and it's not like we haven't had opportunities to get into the stupid drunk/partying cycle before. She's never succumbed to that temptation before, so why now? I can't shake the feeling there was something I could have done had I realised earlier, and that more pertinently I should have realised earlier.
"Look, don't worry." Alex claps a sympathetic hand on my shoulder. He is being pretty good about this, I have to say. Technically he's Lily's superior too, he could have got really pissy about this. "It's midnight now, hopefully they'll either go home, crash out or decide they want to head to some bar soon. If they're as far gone as you say they are they won't be able to keep this up."
"Ugh, I just… I don't know how to handle this."
His brown eyes smile at me sympathetically, and I'm about to smile a pathetically grateful smile back when I hear the lift doors open.
"Addy!"
Justin rushes over to me and immediately swoops me up in a hug, kissing the top of my head without noticing that he's shoved Alex out of the way. "Are you okay? I got your message and you sounded really nervous, what's going on?"
Looking at him, I'm wondering if he rushed straight over here from his shoot. I think he still has make up on. "It's a long story…"
"I'll leave you to tell it," Alex says as he shifts uncomfortably and then passes me the binder. "Thanks again for the favour, I owe you."
"No, that's okay. Thank you," I tell him, hoping he gets that I'm not thanking him for dumping work on me on my day off; I'm thanking him for being here with the reality check.
"Oh, bye Alex." Justin makes a vague wave in his direction as he walks away but you can tell he doesn't really give a shit. He's still staring at me. "Are you having a party or something?"
"No." I sigh. I don't feel like having this conversation again in the corridor, least of all with a pop star that may attract attention if anyone sees him. "Come on, I'll fill you in."
***
"Much as I hate to say it, Dickwad's right," Justin tells me with a sigh. I stealthily manoeuvred him past the high people and upstairs without being spotted, and I've been telling him the whole sorry tale. It's extremely late and Alex's prediction has yet to come true.
"Neither of you can convince me that it's okay if it's occasional." Call me naïve if you must, but I'm very much an advocate of 'just say no.' My parents indoctrinated me to believe drugs are the devil and it worked, what can I tell you?
"That's not what I mean." He brushes my arm gently with his hand. "I'm not telling you it's okay or right or anything like that, and I'm not telling you there's no risk. I'm just telling you that in the industries we're in, a lot of people occasionally use and even if it's wrong, most of them come out from it unscathed. Fuck, even I tried it once. It's not the actual coke I'd be worried about so much as it sounds like she's partying too hard in general. Even if she's only on alcohol there's only so long you can burn the candle at before ends before you run out of candle, but if she is overdoing the coke that'll happen faster."
"Gah." I flop forward and my head now rests in his lap. Sympathetically he starts stroking my hair. I feel only marginally less pathetic for the fact that I now have company while I'm hiding in my room. He's sitting back against the head board of my bed, legs stretched out ahead of him, and I'm curled up in what's a bit too akin to the foetal position. "I just want them out of here. I hate having all these strangers here when I know they're on something."
His index finger brushes over my ear. "If they haven't bothered you so far they probably won't. I guess you just need to talk to Lily and ask her to keep it out of here."
"Heh. I haven't talked to Lily in weeks," I say miserably. "I'm not sure I could get anywhere near her to even say it, and even if I could I doubt she'll listen to me any more."
"Won't know until you try." He stops stroking and ruffles my hair instead. I could tell him that he should have showered before coming over here, but since I'm insanely grateful to have somebody here to look after me right now I don't care. He doesn't stink that bad, anyway.
"I hate feeling so distant from her." I rub at my nose fretfully. "But knowing there's shit like this going on makes it worse, I feel helpless."
"You are about the furthest thing from helpless I know, Miss Thang. You got your shit together way more than most people I know. How many people could just jump into a whole new career and country at the same time?"
Hmm. A voice in my head says it doesn't share his conviction that I completed said feat successfully, but I won't let it speak out loud to him. "I've been friends with her all my life, why is it all suddenly going to shit like this?" He shrugs. "Sometimes going to a new place fucks people up for a while. LA being Crazy Town don't help it much."
"How do you stand it?" I whine.
"I got paid to simulate sex with a hot woman half of today and dance with her the rest of it. It numbs the pain."
"Yeah, I bet you just hate your job."
"Worst day at work ever."
"Does the video at least look good?" I ask.
"Hopefully, the dailies look good, but the proof's in the edit. If you're around you can come with me when they screen it."
"Cool."
Maybe I should be more freaked by the fact that he's releasing a very dirty song about me, but it's not like it'll be me he's sexing up in the video. And it's not like anybody but him and probably Trace and Rachael knows it's about me. I might have told Lily if she'd ever been present for me to do so. It'd be a lie though if I said I was as fine with the song as I let on. As far as Justin's concerned I'm amused and flattered, but if I'm honest it makes me a little uncomfortable.
Actually, if I'm being honest our whole history makes me a little uncomfortable. That ridiculous lie he told still lingers between us like a bad smell sometimes, but it's more than that. Being friends with Steve comes absolutely naturally to me; we even stopped ourselves from having benefits sex while he was here because we both agreed it was more emotional hassle than a quickie was worth. But Justin… maybe it's because we were in such an unrealistic little bubble for a while there. Maybe it's because thinking we would never see each other again made us drop our inhibitions more than we'd have ever dared if we knew that our paths would cross again. Whatever the reason behind it, there's this weird knot of emotion I feel in regards to him that confuses me sometimes. I know it's not love, but it's not simple friendship either and it's a head fuck right when I don't need another one.
Finally the music is turned off. His hand has stopped playing with my hair and is now running along my arm and shoulder, occasionally stopping to massage it with his thumb.
"At least they finally turned that shit off. It wasn't even good music."
"Well next time I have a bunch of cokeheads over I'll be sure to tell them that you're the DJ."
"Fuck, it's late," he says as he twists his wrist to look at what I imagine is a very expensive watch. It's all bling encrusted and in my opinion, not actually that nice. Diamonds may be pretty but that doesn't necessarily mean they'll look good if you throw them over everything.
I glance at the clock and see he's right. "Good job I don't have to be up early. Day off."
"Me too, since the video's wrapped." He lets out a big yawn, and suddenly I feel awful for letting him sit here and listen to me complain. He's been working really long hours for two days straight; it's unfair of me to keep him awake. Especially when he was so considerate rushing over here to check my wimp of a self was okay.
"It's too late to be driving home babe, you can stay here if you like."
"Normally I'd insist I was fine but I'm too fucked to protest. Where's your bathroom?"
"Next door," I answer through a wide yawn, pointing haphazardly in the right direction. Thankfully, the loud chatter is starting to die down and I hear the front door opening and shutting. At least some of them are leaving.
"Thanks."
"No, thank you babe," I tell him. "This was above and beyond."
"Hey, what are friends for?"
I give him a sleepy smile before wondering whether I can really be bothered to change into my pyjamas or if it's easier and less effort to sleep in my sweats.
