Page 34 of The Comedown

The same one I do, where everything that comes free isn’t actually free.

“I’m gonna get cleaned up,” he says before I hear footsteps shuffling toward the bathroom.

“Okay,” I repeat, then thinking better of it, I add, “Don’t smoke in there.”

Julian’s laugh is husky and full of sleep. Is he still high?

Julian

Mother of cunt.

I don’t know how I made my way over here, or why the fuck I was sleeping on Collette’s floor, or why she was letting me…

She was letting me, right? She wouldn’t have given me a pillow and blanket otherwise. She would’ve given my ass the boot. She didn’t though, and now I don’t know what my next move is because I…

I offered her…

Fuck. Why did I do that?

Because as fucking humiliating as it was to ask Collette if she wanted payment for letting me sleep on her floor, it would’ve been a thousand times worse if she asked me first. I’d rather lose my hearing than listen to her ask me for something like that. Not because I wouldn’t give her anything she asked me for, but because then she’d be just like everybody else in my life.

I’m splashing water on my face, contemplating sticking my entire head under the faucet, when I hear a man’s voice.

When I come out of the bathroom, Collette’s building a third sandwich with four other slices of bread out on plates, and a teen boy—not a man—is standing next to her, snagging one of the finished sandwiches before she can stop him.

“Hey, that was Julian’s,” Collette scolds, and I bring my hand up, already sliding my thumb ring over so I can chew on the skin underneath.

“Ooh, Julian, huh? Is that why you never came back to the hotel?”

“I did go back to the hotel actually, but you took so long in the shower, I got bored and left again.”

“You did?” the boy asks around a mouthful, his eyebrows almost touching.

Collette laughs. “No, I’ve been here the whole time. But your showers do last forever.”

The kid’s face turns red, and I bite the cracked, sore skin that never gets a chance to heal even harder to keep from laughing. I don’t want to interrupt this moment. I never had this. I never had a mom.

I did, just not for long. And she wasn’t like this. She wasn’t even coherent enough to be like this.

An older woman, followed by Irelynn, boards the bus, and I slink further back into the shadows, still not ready to interrupt because as soon as they’re all together, I get that same feeling, the one I got when I spent Thanksgiving at Antonio’s, like I’m around an actual family. It doesn’t matter that they’re not my family, I just want to watch how one operates, what they sound like, what they feel like.

The three women chat about the day ahead, finishing each other’s sentences, and stopping every once in a while to smile genuinely at one another. There’s plenty of banter, too, but in an entertaining way that has me wishing I could be a part of it. I’d happily take some licks, if only just to be included.

Sometimes, during press, I get asked about the people I keep around me, and I usually give some cheesy answer about them being like family, but I never mean it. I thought it was because I just didn’t know what family was supposed to be like, but now that I’ve finally seen two for myself, to try and use that word to describe my entourage would be like putting a finger condom over my cock—it doesn’t fucking fit.

Collette’s eyes seek mine out and it’s like our first night on her bus all over again, her sunshine breaking through my forever darkness. She gives me a secretive grin that pulls me from out of the shadows.

I should leave. I’m not part of any family, not even my own.

“Oh, man, sorry,” Collette’s kid says as soon as he spots me, motioning to the sandwich that was meant for me. “I didn’t know you were still here.”

“Don’t worry about it,” I tell him. “I was just taking off anyway.”

Sticking his free hand out, he asks, “Julez, right?” and I shake it, telling him, “Call me Julian. You’re Holter?”

He nods, stuffing another bite in his mouth.

“Holter, manners,” Collette warns as the older woman behind him flicks one of his ears.