Page 65 of Doesn't Count

Ash stirs next to me and groans, her hand palming her face. The afternoon sun is too bright, despite the curtains that are doing their best to shut it out.

Her hair is splayed out all over her pillow, frizzy and tangled in knots, so blonde that it nearly matches the white sheets. Even hungover, she’s elegant in all her movements. Flawless in every sense of the word. I just wish she didn’t rile up my emotions, pitting them against one another, warring between hating her and needing her like the air I fucking breathe.

“Why did you make me drink so much?” She whines, rubbing her eyes.

When she opens them, make up is smeared underneath, black smudges down to her cheeks. Even now, when one might see a mess, I see an angel.

“How are you fine?” She wonders, peaking over at me.

“I didn’t drink any more than I usually do.” I answer.

“I think I might die.” Her wrist flaps over her foreheaddramatically, pretending she’s dying. “What would you do without me?”

Ash seemed to have cracked my hardened soul yesterday, enough to worm her way inside and plant roots. We talked until the sky bled with pink, purples, and blues, passing out just before the sun made an appearance. She talked the festering ball of hate right out of me, leaving me with all these other confusing feelings. Feelings I can’t bring myself to confront right now.

“The same thing I’ve always done.” I lie.

She pops an eye open to glare at me, “Rude.”

“Truth hurts.” I quip.

“You sound like Lizzo.” She snorts.

I pop a brow, “Who?”

She sits up next to me, eyes wide, which look even bigger with the dark circles around them. “Are you serious? She’s got like ten hits. Her songs are always on the radio.”

“Never heard of her. Don’t listen to the radio.” I shrug.

“Come on! I just took a D-N-A test, turns out I’m 100% that bitch?” She starts singing.

“Oh God, no! Please stop!” I cover my ears, groaning.

Ash laughs, shaking her head like she’s disappointed that I don’t listen to the garbage that these pop stars put out.

“Look, those that hit the top ten on the ‘Greatest Hits,’” I say in air quotes, “They're the exact opposite of everything I stand for. They crave the attention, they want to be the best in the world, they want recognition for the shit that others have given them.”

“And what do you want out of all this?” She counters.

“Nothing. I didn’t even want to do this in the first place. I started because it was all I had; it tamed the demons inside of me. Kept them from reaping chaos at every turn. It just so happens that others really enjoy it. There are people out therethat feel the same way as me and my music has helped them like it’s helped me. I do it because I have to.”

“Well, that’s kind of sad.” She frowns.

“It is what it is. Somehow, my music has become bigger than me and I’ve let it, but you won’t ever see me changing who I am just to win an award or get recognition.” I tell her.

“Whatever you’re doing, it’s working. Even if you’re not trying.” She smiles.

“You have makeup all over your face.” I change the subject, swiping my thumb under her eye to show her.

“Thanks for that.” She grumbles, getting out of bed to shower.

I feel lighter after our talk last night, even if I hardly revealed anything substantial. The look in Ash’s eyes when I talked about the violence in my life, it wasn’t pity. She looked at me like there was a strength in befriending death, but still choosing to live. And after everything we’ve done together, I can’t seem to forget the way her hand embraced mine, fitting perfectly together.

When Ash comes out of the bathroom, I have to do a double take.

“What? Run out of sundresses?” I joke.

“You don’t like it?” She smirks, tugging on her black crop top T-shirt with our band logo on it.

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