Hold Me Now - Alive and Kicking

I closed my eyes and lay back. Ok. Sleep now. Just go to sleep. Count sheep. Or continents. Or states in America. Or get up because you have weed. Actually, you have coke. Real coke, not Coke Zero. Nothing zero about this kind of coke.

I groaned and launched myself out of bed and started tidying my room.

Clothes in one pile. That would be a week of laundry. Dishes in another. That would be a week of dishes. Oh crap, mould in my wardrobe. Unsurprising. We can change that. Maybe tomorrow I'll raid our cleaning closet. And there was a pill here, and some random unlabelled powder there, and I was putting it all in a stack to inventory it, so I could ration it out properly. I lit a cigarette. Not allowed. No one smokes indoors, that is utterly disgusting. But it was smoke indoors at 1am or start snorting... I told you. I need to do something with my hands.

And when my room was carefully rearranged into various piles of disgusting I grabbed every single random opiate or bottle I'd found and put it all in a shopping bag. I was out of my mind. I left my room and stumbled down the hallway. I knocked on Skinner's door frantically as I opened it. I was in no state to give a proper warning. He sat bolt upright as I sank onto his bed, holding out the bag.

"Fucking hell!" He launched himself against the bedpost with a screech. His hand slammed on the bedside light "Oh it's you." He sighed. "Jesus fucking Christ, Harrison." He glanced at his phone. "It's 3AM!" He whined. I threw the bag at him. He glanced inside and his eyes widened a fraction.

"Take it." My voice was hoarse. "Take it. Don't flush it, major waste. Just take, smoke it, snort it, hide it. I don't care. It's everything I have and I can't trust myself."

"Oh... dude." Skinner bit his lip and sank down into the bed. "Woah. Big step, bro." He smiled at me. "Man. You're a pretty amazing dude sometimes."

"I am definitely not." I sighed and flopped on his bed. "Ok. Good. That's done." I stood up blearily. "Goodnight."

"Wait." Skinner stopped me. "You wanna... crash here?"

"Sleep with you?" I snorted. "Don't sleep with straight guys."

"I thought it might be easier if you weren't alone." He said quietly. "Just for now. While you're working through it." I started at him. I sat on his bed and closed my eyes.

"Hide it." I said through gritted teeth. "Somewhere I absolutely won't look. Right now."

"Ok." He grabbed the bag and got up. I heard the door close and I blinked my eyes open to an empty room. I let out a breath I didn't know I'd been holding.

----

I woke up to Skinner spooning me, and I leapt up out of his arms. He woke up with a jolt and started laughing.

"Oh. Sorry." He yawned. "Mmm. That was nice though." He laughed. "I haven't slept that well in years."

"Actually me too." I grinned at him. Once I'd managed to actually GET to sleep, with Skinner snoring beside me like a giant bear, I'd fallen into something akin to peace. The first time I'd slept properly without nightmares in ages. I sighed. I guess we all crave human touch. Even people like Skinner who's never really got the whole sex and relationship thing.

"Lucky you're ace." I yawned. "You're comfortable but has anyone ever told you that you snore like a fucking truck?"

"Huh." Skinner shrugged. "Not since I was in the Boy Scouts." I widened my eyes and Skinner hit me with a pillow as I opened my mouth. "NOT what I meant you horny bastard." He grumbled as he started to get up.

"I guess we had different Boy Scout experiences." I giggled. "Oh man, Tony Jackson. My first love. Major, major shame he was born into a conservative family." I sighed.

"Mmm." Skinner started to shoo me off the bed and pull the sheets up. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Hey bud. Just while you're... you know. Swing by anytime. 3am. Whenever. I'd rather you were here."

"Thanks." I rubbed my eyes and ran my fingers through my hair. Oooh. That was better. Silky smooth. "You're ah." I bit my lip. "Um. You're a real one, Skins."

"I know." He smiled at me. "You need breakfast? I'll make you some if we're both getting up."

"Yeah, I'll get up." I shook myself, trying to wake myself up properly. "I was thinking I'd clean my room today."

"Miracles do happen." Skinner beamed at me.

"Hope so." I muttered as we headed to the kitchen.

-----

We were joined by Lando, who was also holding down an office job, and we talked amicably over breakfast about their days, our album, the political climate back home... I felt a sinking in my chest as the two of them started to get ready to shower and prepare properly for the day. It was weird. Not the awful itchiness and sweat I'm used to. Just... a sadness.

I didn't want to put anyone out though, so I put on a smile and tided up again, wishing them a good day and pretending this was normal.

The click as the door closed was deafening. The silence was unbelievable in its intensity. I looked at my phone. 9 am. Ok. Like... if I was sober from... well, maybe like 10pm last night? That's when I fell asleep... I was almost halfway done. Only. For some reason 10pm at night till 10am in the morning felt like way less work than till 10pm rolled around again. I groaned. Dammit. If I'd at least had work to go to I'd be relatively distracted. Well. I said I'd clean my room.

I walked back into it and recoiled a little at the scent of whiskey and sweat and cigarettes. Ew, Harrison. I opened the curtains- to my shame they squeaked. I guess they're so rarely open they were getting rusty. Ew, Harrison. I opened the window to let some air in and twisted my lips as I surveyed my kingdom.

Well. Gotta start somewhere.

My flurry from last night made it easier. I picked up all I could manage from the clothes pile, and tried not to vomit at the smell as I carried it to the washing machine. Oh god DAMMIT. Someone else had their damp laundry sitting in it. I sniffed it. Mmmmm. I think it was ok? I put on some music and hung it out on the wire frame. I should get like, a million points, I thought to myself. Doing the hard part of someone else's laundry is GOD TIER. Eh. I rethought that. I might owe everyone in the flat a few chores. More than a few. I'd been incredibly lovely in the last 12 hours with the dishes but before that when was the last time I....

Ok. Fair play if I was on laundry for the foreseeable. I dumped my stuff in and dowsed it heavily with the laundry liquid, feeling a little twinge of shame. I definitely hadn't contributed to buying that. And I didn't have my own. I sighed and grabbed a piece of paper. I started a list. Shit I need to buy for the flat. Laundry liquid. Well. I had the money for that. I put my clothes on the most intense cycle I could find, hoping maybe, I'd I washed them hard enough, I would wash out the horrible stench of myself.

And then the dishes were next. I filled the dishwasher and decided to do the rest by hand. I added dishwashing liquid, and dishwashing tablets to my list. I filled the sink and sighed as I looked over the kitchen. There was no where to PUT the dishes. I stacked up everything else in the kitchen and put it by the bench. I emptied the dish rack, remembering where everything lives as I put it away slowly. Huh. When was the last time I did this? I felt my cheeks grow hot.

Well. You're doing it now. I told myself. I cleaned the kitchen to within an inch of its life, which took my way past 10am to my delight. I only started the dishes properly once everything was sparkling, and then I washed a load, dried it, put it away, and went to wash more. That took me to the afternoon. I grinned in delight as I stepped back from everything. I did it. And now my washing was done.

Whoever's laundry it was was still damp on the frame inside, but it was sunny, so I loaded up the first bundle and hung it outside. It was sunny and still- just like Melbourne. In Wellington you get the sun when you're lucky, but you have 75km/h winds that kind of negate that as often as not. I let the sun pierce my skin and lingered as I hung my laundry out, enjoying the birds, even the crows, and felt myself feel a little more... whole. Funny. Humans are more like plants than we realise. We need sun and water to function. I guess plants don't know how amazing it can feel to have alcohol though, so they're kind of cheating.

I put on another load.

And then it started.

The twitchy, itchy, oh fuck my skin isn't really part of me, stress and sweat. I ignored it for as long as I could... I cleaned my room, using various products which I glanced at and grumbled and added to the list of shit I needed to buy for the flat. I knocked on Fox's door, then Nat's, hoping someone would be home and could distract me... but Fox was either out last night or gone to work at a weird hour- I mean, he worked security, He could literally be in or out at any time. And Nat, now that I thought about it, would be out to work as well, he was probably up before we were. I felt panic rise up inside me. Are you fucking kidding me? Everyone had ABANDONED ME?! They knew I was in a vulnerable state? They didn't seriously leave me Iike...

Ah. Maybe they didn't know quite how bad it was. I mean. They knew. They probably just didn't realise that if they really wanted me fixed then probably everyone I ever knew needed to pause their lives for a month and literally hold my hands. I took a deep breath. Ok. Laundry needed to finish. So I'd go for a walk. That was part of the plan, right? A walk.

--------------

"Fu-cking hell." I woke up to Skinner's voice. I stretched out on the couch. I smiled at him.

"Turns out I'm like, super productive when I'm bored." I grinned. He looked around the room and shook his head.

"Damn. Get semi fired more often." He laughed and sat beside me. "You alright?" He asked. I stared at him.

"Well, no. But what are you asking?"

"Did you... go ok today?" He asked quietly.

"Yeah I went ok." I stretched out. "Tired though. Cool if I skip dinner and go to bed?"

"Course man." Skinner smiled. "Damn dude. You don't need to play housekeeper. But the house looks great."

"Thanks." I smiled.

Probably because I went to Derek's on my walk, and after giving me shit for showing up at his house he invited me on and we did lines. I was slightly manic when I returned and finished cleaning.

But let's pretend that didn't happen.

---- What you gonna do when the love burns down? ----

I managed a new schedule. One where I spent like, 80% of my day kind of out of it, but I also did chores, and wrote weird rambling songs, and made sure I wasn't OBVIOUS about it when my flatmates were home. I was kind of limited in what I could get my hands on anyway- I mean. I was out of work, so pretty cash poor- and I was already in crazy debt to Derek who was still dealing to me, but on his terms. We met, he gave me less than I wanted, I took it because what choice did I have?

"God, what did I ever do to you?" I whined as we met up and he held out a measly package yet again.

"Chronically or alphabetically?" Derek rolled his his. "Be grateful I'm not cutting you off."

"You're so good to me, baby." I grumbled.

"I am, actually." Derek grinned at me. "Didn't you want to take a break at some point? I'm weaning you off."

"That's my choice to make!" My face grew hot.

"And you were making the wrong choice." Derek waved at me, his feet starting to head away from me.

"Wait a fucking minute, hold up!" I grabbed his arm. "Don't you dare pretend to be noble here! You're a drug dealer! You so do not have the moral high ground."

"Maybe not." He shrugged me off him. "But you need me a hell of a lot more than I need you. I'd take what I get if I were you. Have a good day." He walked away and I grumbled to myself as I headed home.

I made dinner, stir fry, and we all sat around the table drinking Fanta and talking about our days. Conversation swung round to me which always made my heart race a little fast as I lied to their faces about the boring, sober, predictable days I had. I think some wires crossed in my brain though. I think I was too comfortable, enjoying the company too much. I pushed my hair off my face, noting that it was starting to feel limp and stringy again.

"Mmm other than having a massive argument with Derek because he's being a cheap asshole, same old." I said. Then I heard what I said. I stared at my plate and felt my food sit heavily in my mouth.

"Who's Derek?" Lando asked. I coughed.

"Some.... Guy... I've been..." My whole face was red. Lucky I actually would be really fucking awkward about seeing a guy because there was no way to hide my shame at practically outing myself.

"No way." Nat grinned at me.

"We uh... met at.... a meeting..." God, I made myself sick. "NA." I muttered quietly, grossing myself out with my own saccharine lie.

"Aw dude, nice." Lando grinned at me. "You never mentioned anything."

"Early days." I mumbled. Fox and Nat and Lando made some random jokes which I shrugged off. Skinner said nothing. I didn't look at him. He knew me too well.

I ran myself a bath while the others washed up. I sat on the windowsill smoking when the door handle rattled.

"Occupied!" I yelled at whoever it was. Skinner ignored me, stepping into the room and coming to sit next to me.

"We haven't talked properly all week." He took my pack and helped himself to a cigarette. "Guess not." I sighed. "Shoot."

"You seem more alive." Skinner said. "Nice to see you eating."

"Thanks, Mum." I rolled my eyes.

"But I did wonder if there was anything that would make it easier for you that like I, or we, could be doing?" He nudged my knee. "I promise I won't be mad if you fucked up this week. I just want to know what happened, so I can help it not happen again."

"Dickhead." I growled at him. "You're so sure I fucked up."

"Well. No." Skinner sighed. "I thought this Derek guy sounded like a load of bullshit. But then I realised I had no idea if you'd been to a meeting. And I realised that I said I'd be supportive but then I kind of just left you to it, which isn't very supportive at all. I think it's a little unfair for any of us to expect you to have turned your life around without anyone being there for you. We wanted to give you a bit of space, to come to terms with how we were feeling... but giving you nothing but space right off the bat was shitty of us." Skinner took a puff of his cigarette. "So. I am pretty sure you fucked up. But I'm pretty sure I don't blame you." He smiled at me. "How was your week?"

"I..." I felt my eyes close as I tried to come up with a lie. Ugh. What kind of lame lie could I tell though? He obviously already knew. There's a point when denying things is so much more embarrassing than owning up to them. I didn't want to see the 'you're full of shit' look in his eyes. "Well. I haven't been drinking." Which was true. Unlike Derek, liquor stores don't usually give you booze when you bat your eyelashes and say 'I'll get you back next time, promise."

"That's great!" Skinner patted my back. I snorted and caught his eyes.

"Sure." I said.

"No, really, Harrison." Skinner said. "That's huge! I thought we'd actually have to physically drag you away from a vodka bottle and into rehab one day."

"Never say never." I muttered. "Uh. I Uh. Uh." I closed my mouth. Spit it out, you embarrassing little shit. Just tell him. You couldn't do a single day sober. You kept putting it off till tomorrow. Skinner sighed and put his arm over me.

"I'm taking a week off." He put me out of my stammering misery and I glanced up at him. My heart sank. Fuck, if he was babysitting me all week there was no way I could get away. I should have pushed Derek harder to get my stash up to healthy levels again. Hmmm. I know Skinner didn't believe it but... I had said I was kind of dating Derek. Maybe I should keep that in my back pocket.

"Neat." I swallowed. "Like school holidays. I bet you have loads of projects up your sleeve to distract your little drug addict band mate."

"Yep." Skinner grinned. "We're gonna have a great time, sport."

"Can't wait." I mumbled. "Are baths ok unsupervised?" I asked as the water reached the top and I jumped back into the room to turn the taps off.

"If we get to the point of supervising your baths, it really is rehab." Skinner sighed.

"Ugh, none of us can afford rehab." I started to shoo him out the door.

"Maybe you can see if they do an influencer discount." Skinner suggested.

-----

I woke up late, curled into a little cocoon with my hair wrapped around me. Oh man. Why couldn't I stay asleep? I was having the most wonderful dream. About a boy. I smiled. God, I missed having a guy around. The thing is, Skinner's right. I'm not into hookups. I get in my own head about it too much to enjoy anything. I think I only really like... can be intimate with a guy when I know he likes me back. I hadn't really dated properly in a while. There was Tommo, who I saw briefly before he wanted to 'open up the relationship', which was cool for him but an absolute no from me. That was over six months ago, and I hadn't even kissed anyone since. I sighed. Unfortunately I'd been exposed to delight incarnate in the form of Bailey; so other dudes never had much of a chance to measure up.

Anyway. Wonderful dreams aside, it was the weekend. That meant everyone was home. That meant I was under a microscope.

I got up and pursed my lips as I looked in the mirror. Actually. Mildly better than I'd been expecting. My hair looked healthy. My skin didn't look tooooo awful... I mean. It was pretty bad- but I think it was mostly scarring, not anything worse than last time I looked at myself and freaked out about the fact that apparently I was going through puberty again.

I rubbed my eyes and a little twinge in my neck. God, this was getting boring. Gearing myself up everyday with only one stupid goal in mind: get high without anyone noticing. I can't believe I'd warped my whole world around it. This was easier two weeks ago when I was as kind of ashamed but didn't have to actively hide anything. I swear I used to have like, hobbies. Passions. Any of that was really just a distraction right now. It kind of did my head in.

Ohhhkay. Well. I had to start my day at some point.

----

The weekend actually, to my disbelief, was ok. The guys and I went out of the city to Healesville Sanctuary for a day. That was stupid and fun. My forced... cutting back... at the hands of Derek meant I made the long car trip both ways with only like... a headache to show for it. I awkwardly showed up in Skinner's room again at some ungodly hour of the morning. He let me in without a word.

We spent the next day mostly just mooching on the couch and jamming- I think we all wanted a break from the album we were recording. Almost as a joke, but one that we went all in on, we were starting to write that fantasy concept album about a hero who had magical fingers and saved villages and seduced stable boys as he roamed across the country with his guitar. I could hear it as the words poured out of me. A clumsy allegory about someone who's blessed with a charming life. Who, for whatever reason, was about to fuck everything up. I think we could all hear the chords changing. The darkness invading. We fiddled around until someone ordered pizza and I put my guitar down with a tiny bit of relief. I can't hide myself when I write in the way I do in everyday life. I was scared I'd end up telling them just how confused and hopeless I was. I don't think I was even fighting a dragon anymore. I think I had decided the dragon was easier to live with. As long as no one ever found out. As long as no one was ever worried about me, or disappointed in me.

-----

I had nothing, and the house was devoid as well, unless I wanted to go ransacking peoples rooms. But I KNEW Skinner had hidden my stash somewhere. I KNEW there a whole fucking PILE of WHATEVER I WANTED. SOMEWHERE.