After The Blues (2/3)
Warning: Language.
Hours later
If drugs are going to be death of Tiffany indirectly or directly, then Tiffany would be the death of Jessica. If she continues to let Tiffany get under her skin too comfortably. She watches Tiffany taking in slow breaths, Tiffany sleeping soundly and peacefully, naked beside her.
The pads of Jessica’s finger almost touch the skin on Tiffany’s chest and stomach. Leaving trails of ghost touches, the tiny hairs rises up. Just watching Tiffany, hurts Jessica. She loves her. But she knows she can’t if Tiffany continues her drug dealing.
She gazes around the room and realizes how many items were bought with drug money. But she loves her too much to not be entirely bothered by it. Maybe that is the main problem.
It is too much.
“You’ll ruin me if I let you.” Jessica says, barely above whisper. “I’ll ruin myself over and over again for you if I let myself.” Then it is question of choice, should she or should she not?
She’ll never know if she doesn’t try out the hope she places for Tiffany. There is no difference to how Tiffany is now and the past. She knows she’s going to lose her either way. To doing drugs or selling them. And that knowledge is too much for her.
So she gets up from the bed, puts on a stretched shirt, and searches for a cigarette pack in the bedside drawer. When she finds one, she opens a window to let in the fresh air, and then she leans her hip against the panel, and lights a cigarette. Her arm tucked under the other.
The smoke she inhales is now absorbed into her lungs. She feels at ease, forgetting where she is now or what she knows. There are so many reasons why she should leave Tiffany. Too many fucking reasons, she realizes.
And she questions herself every time on why she’s still here. Is love really that big and empowering, everything else you know, is irrational?
“I didn’t know you smoke.” A voice interrupted Jessica’s train of thoughts. Tiffany has woken up. Her eyes fluttering open. Jessica feels the urge to kiss her eyelids close. She exhales the smoke, and joins Tiffany in the bed again.
Tiffany’s confessions poke at Jessica’s brain to be reminded of, but she ignores by numbing herself with smokes and fucks. Tiffany grabs the cigarette from Jessica and sucks in the bud.
“I didn’t know you could even more stupid.” Jessica says in a dull voice, lost all care in the world in that moment. Tiffany ignores it and gets a case from the bedside drawer. She opens the case and there are rolled up papers in them.
“Spliffs.” Tiffany says, as if she’s answering Jessica’s curiosity. She takes out one out and light it with the end of the cigarette. She puts aside the cigarette and places the spliff in between her lips. She takes a slow drag, and then breathe. Her eyes half-lidded.
Jessica just stares at Tiffany, mesmerized again.
“Come here.” Tiffany sits up, gesturing Jessica to do the same. Jessica complies absentmindedly. Tiffany’s face closes in the inches between them. Their lips almost touching each other. Jessica’s eyes half-way closes. Something takes hold inside of her.
The close proximity is enough to fill her head with haziness. The warmth radiated from Tiffany is intoxicating. Tiffany’s lips are enticing to be bitten. She has forgotten everything else. Her mind is clear and free from anything.
Tiffany pulls back a little, and takes a heavy drag of the spliff. Tendrils of smoke escape. The corner of her lips turn up suggestively. In that moment, Jessica can’t help but pull Tiffany back in by the neck. Lips almost touching. Tiffany caresses Jessica’s cheek, and her thumb slides along Jessica’s lips to part them.
Then, in pure pleasure and desire, Tiffany mildly opens her mouth and blow softly the smoke into Jessica’s mouth. This act of intimacy is mind-whirling, Jessica never had such a high. It’s the combination of everything, the spliff, skin, lemon scent, and Tiffany. Tiffany. Tiffany. She really did forget.
All she can think is wanting more of this. More of Tiffany. She closes in the minute distance between them. Tiffany sets aside the joint, and leaning back onto the bed to give more room for Jessica’s sudden appetite. Jessica’s hair is getting in the way of their kissing.
It’s messy. Complicated. Jessica’s weight on Tiffany is starting to feel uncomfortable. Tiffany feels the jabs of Jessica’s elbow into her ribs. She yelps a little. “Jessica, wait a min’” But Jessica doesn’t listen. She’s slumped heavily on Tiffany. Her legs starting to cramp a little. “Baby, wait.”
Jessica pulls away and plops beside Tiffany. She sighs in frustration and resignation. “Fuck.” She says with no reason behind it. The high is gone and she’s now feeling the crash. They had enough, anyway. She knows she’s tiring Tiffany out. Her jaw and limbs ached.
Her bones feels heavy. Her heart heavier. And her mind is all messed up. How could she be disentangled so quickly in less than a week after months of straightening herself out? How could she be so blind and ignorant at the fact that a feeling like this would only disappear so quickly like smoke? She knows this.
She knows. She knows.
Yet she ignores. For Tiffany. For herself, stupidly.
“I can’t, Tiffany.” Jessica whispers without putting much thought into it.
“What?” Tiffany lies on her side. Her head leans against her hand for support, allowing her to look at Jessica curiously.
“I can’t, Tiffany. I can’t keep doing this.” Jessica’s eyes is almost brimming with tears. Her voice trembles. “I can’t.” Her lips reluctant to move. The atmosphere is suddenly heavy and thick. As if the weight on her chest is going to cave in on her.
“Can’t what, Jessica? Can’t keep doing what?” Tiffany asks. But Jessica senses that Tiffany must have an idea.
“I can’t keep ruining myself over you.”
Silence descends upon them. Tiffany doesn’t say or do anything. In the corner of Jessica’s eyes, she could make out the lost in Tiffany’s eyes. The purse of Tiffany’s lips, where Jessica nibbled on them a minute ago, and carefully to not be too hard on where she has bit them. Tiffany exhales audibly, and gets up from the bed. It’s Tiffany turn to look outside the window and light up the end of the cigarette stick.
Midnight
It’s raining tonight. Tiffany has said nothing since the bedroom. She continues her day, doing nothing, and just watching reruns of Madmen.
Jessica has had mixed of emotions ranging from confusion to anger to resignation and then back to confusion. She can’t be near her. She isn’t sure if Tiffany wants her to be near. Every time she takes a glance at Tiffany’s eyes, they’re empty and black.
Hours of silence and avoidance. Even if they’re a room apart, there’s a certain heaviness to the atmosphere. An ugly invisible beast gnawing its way out from nowhere. It’s truth that is the monster. People think that they fear for the monster. But what they’re really afraid is the truth. The truth where the monster is the reflection of themselves.
She used to think that without all the drama, the drug using, and the complications come with it, would no longer apply for them anymore. How she is mistaken now. It’s deeper. It’s no knee deep. Way. Way deeper than that. It’s only minutes before the mud reaches her mouth and takes her. takes her away. She should get out. She can.
Why is she still here then?
When Jessica has finished showering, Tiffany is nowhere to be found. She’s gone. Panic rises up her in throat. Then she calm herself when she realizes that this isn’t her apartment. It’s Tiffany’s. God, even now, she has this short panic episodes and the plummeting feeling when Tiffany’s gone. The past still catches up to her.
Who is she kidding? Nothing has really changed for the good.
Tiffany’s probably out somewhere, mulling over something, Jessica assures herself. She doesn’t want to see her. But yet she wants to know she’s still here. How crazy is that? A little after twelve, Jessica pour herself a glass of wine, and drinking at the kitchen table.
The space is small but enough for two people to go around. She huffs when she starts to think about the future. She takes a step forward, and the result backfires by going two steps backwards. She hears the door closing. There is the rustling of plastic bags and keys. Tiffany enters the kitchen. Their eyes briefly met. Jessica looks at Tiffany for a moment and finds the wine glass more interesting.
Tiffany takes off her soaked coat, and sits opposite of Jessica. “Have you eaten?” She asks, like nothing happened between them. Jessica doesn’t answer and finishes her wine. She could smell the strong alcohol from Tiffany. The girl’s been drinking.
“Why?” Jessica asks in a tired voice. She slumps a little on the chair. Her fingers tapping against the glass as she holds it. She doesn’t look at her when she asks vaguely. “Why, Tiffany?”
“Why what?”
She has no time for this beat-around bullshit so she glares at Tiffany briefly.
“I don’t know.” Tiffany sighs in resignation and leans back against the chair. “I don’t know. It was the only way. To make quick money. Pay off the debts. I was good at doing it. I was making money. I am making money. If it wasn’t for this, I wouldn’t have this apartment. I wouldn’t have met you again.” Her voice is apologetic but Jessica isn’t having any of it.
“You’re full of shit, Tiffany.” Jessica says through her gritted teeth. The anger she has is thick like mud, heavy and volatile. Something inside of her is ready to erupt a wave of destruction.
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me.” Jessica holds Tiffany’s gaze. Her jaw clenches. Her hold around the glass tightens.
“Jessica, if only you understand, I - ”
Jessica lunges the glass to the wall behind Tiffany, and luckily, Tiffany ducks. The glass shatters and drops to the floor. It looks as if there’s blood on the walls and floor.
“Bloody hell, Jessica!” Immediately, Tiffany stands up and sees the red stains on her shirt. Her eyes fleeting back and forth from the wall to Jessica’s empty eyes. She runs her hand through her hair, still shock by what Jessica did. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”
Jessica walks around the round table, and shoves Tiffany into the wine splattered wall. “Fuck you, Tiffany. Fuck you.” Without another second, her ears are filled with tears. So are Tiffany’s. “I hate you. I hate you.” She slams her fist onto Tiffany’s shoulder. “I hate you and I love you.” Her voice no longer filled with anger and force. Instead, it comes out weak. As if all the crying she did has sucked the energy out of her.
Tiffany’s lips part but nothing comes out. She places her hands on Jessica’s arms, and pulls her into an embrace. Jessica struggles initially but her determination is wearing thin. She gives up and rests her head on Tiffany’s shoulder.
Her arms circle around Tiffany’s waist. She feels the ribs against her own. Tiffany isn’t as skinny or breakable like a year ago. Yet, the thought of almost breaking Tiffany still haunts her. Tiffany’s warmth was addicting. And Jessica wishes that they could just stay this way for as long as time allows them.
She leaves open mouth kisses along Tiffany’s shoulder. Her hands roam around Tiffany’s back underneath the thin fabric. Her fingers unhook the bra. As she begins to pull Tiffany’s shirt up, the latter pauses her.
“Jessica.” Tiffany pulls back a little, and her eyes searches for something in Jessica’s empty eyes. She doesn’t question further.
“Please.” It comes out in a pleading whisper.
“No, Jessica.”
Jessica’s eyes takes a different shade. Her irises swallowed by blackness. All under one second, her mood changes to a dirty foul. She separates from Tiffany’s embrace abruptly. “Get away from me.” Every inch of her feels like fire. Every touch of Tiffany’s feels like the end of a cigarette burn. The room is out of air. So are her lungs. So are the spaces and the forgiveness she emplaces for Tiffany.
“Jessica, come on.” Tiffany takes a step closer. And Jessica takes a hundred steps backwards.
“Don’t.” Jessica shakes her head, realizing how stupid she is. Especially now. She walks out of the kitchen, and grabs her keys and wallet on her way out of the apartment.
“Don’t fucking walk away from me, Jessica!” Tiffany shouts but does nothing to stop Jessica. She slams her fist against the plasterboard and curses when she accidentally steps on the broken glass. What Jessica couldn’t hear the words afterwards are, “Don’t leave me again.”
Out somewhere far from the building, Jessica uses the first payphone she sees. The premise hits home when she remembers the time when she found Tiffany sitting, looking almost dead. It almost makes her want to go back to the apartment and be with Tiffany. Regaining strength, she punches in the numbers after inserting a few pence. She then speaks through her chattering teeth, “Can you help me?”
“You don't want to hurt me,
But see how deep the bullet lies.”
- Kate Bush
Sometime after midnight
Taking shelter under the bus stop, Jessica waits and waits for the person she think she would never have to call for help. Yoona’s miles away. And it wouldn’t be appropriate considering she slept with her ex-girlfriend. Then she tries to recall how long since they had a real conversation. Ever since Tiffany disappeared from their lives last year, Yoona hasn’t been around that much, and giving excuses to outings as she buries herself in her studies.
Jessica blows warm air into her freezing hands. At this rate, she could get frostbite. Darkness looms around her. The only light coming is from the street lamp which keeps flickering. Several minutes, there is a breeze, adding more to coldness. Droplets of rain reaches her. She contemplates real hard on whether she should get back to Tiffany’s or at least, inside Tiffany’s building. She thinks better of it. She rather die here, sitting on this metal bench in a deserted area, rather to be in the warmth of Tiffany’s arms. Scratch that, she wouldn’t purposely freeze herself to death because she is mad because of Tiffany.
She groans when she thinks of it again. The taste of regret rides up her throat. She should be grateful that she is the only one here, and no one else to creep her out or possibly rob or worse, sexually assault her. The paranoia grows so she tries to think of something else.
Every time she tries, her mind goes back to Tiffany. If there were tears, they would freeze. Lights coming from her right blinds her. Instinctively, she shields her eyes with her hands. The car parks parallel in front of her, and the passenger door opens.
“Well, what are you waiting for, sis?” Krystal yells through the rain. Jessica runs into the car and shuts the door before the side compartment gets wet. Krystal glances at her briefly, and then drives. Jessica knows Krystal is dying to ask about her situation. But Krystal says nothing and turns up the heater.
The heat feels heaven on Jessica. She has never felt this grateful for Krystal until now. She sees the twitch in Krystal’s lips, and the resistance in her manner. “You can ask.”
“Ask what?” Krystal says in an uncharacteristically high pitch voice, and looks at her innocently before averting her gaze back to the road. Jessica’s eyebrow arches up to tell Krystal that she is not fooling anyone. Especially at a time like this. “Alright, fine. I deserve to know. I woke up because of you.” Krystal stresses on the last part. “What’s so bloody important that you had to call me and pick you up in the middle nowhere?”
“It’s not in the middle of nowhere if you can find me..” Jessica mumbles.
“That’s not the point.” Krystal huffs and tightens her hold around the steering wheel. “It is as if I’m talking to a five year old.”
“You don’t know what I’ve been through.”
“What? Is it really that bad? Worse than some people in..”
“Oh, shut up. Don’t compare my first world problems with third world’s.” Jessica rolls her eyes. She really wishes for a thick sweater right now. “I need my sister.”
“Usually, it would be the other way around.” Krystal adds. “What happened to you?”
Jessica is uncertain if Krystal’s question refers to recent events or her as a whole. She keeps quiet and turns to look outside the car window. The question hangs in the quiet air. Few minutes later, Krystal slows and pulls to a stop in front of a discreet looking bar.
“Why are we here?” Jessica asks, sitting up straight. Krystal turns off the engine and check herself out in the mirror, applying lip balm in the process.
“To drink.”
“I don’t want a drink.” Then Jessica realizes how sulky it sounds.
“Well gee, Jess, it’s not all about you. I need a drink. Contrary to what you believe, you look like you need one as well.” Krystal picks up her wallet and gets out of the car. She bends down to look at Jessica. “Come on.” Jessica begrudgingly agrees and follows behind.
The warmth of the bar welcomes them too, changing Jessica’s mind from negative to a not so much of being a pain the ass. Krystal chooses the booth, and sits in the opposite direction of Jessica. A waitress, who looks like she rather be somewhere else at three o’clock, comes to their service.
“Two shots of scotch. Keep em’ coming until I say so.” Krystal takes off her coat where Jessica continues to rub herself. “You look a little blue there, Jess.”
“No shit, Sherlock.”
“Someone’s in a foul mood. The person who should be in one is me.” The shots arrive, and Krystal gulps one down. She passes the other to Jessica. “Drink up. It’ll warm you quick.” Jessica hesitates but eventually she takes it.
She hisses at the burn of strong alcohol down her throat. Seconds later, she feels a little warmth. When another round comes, she drinks down two of the shots, and feels a little buzz. The shots keep coming but Krystal no longer touches them. “Why aren’t you drinking?”
“Who else is going to drive us?” Krystal calls for a lukewarm water and a mug of coffee. Her usual routine. Jessica lets out a soft chuckle at Krystal’s long time tradition. “What?”
“Nothing.” Jessica holds her hand up when the waitress comes back, signaling her to stop. She already feels like shit. Isn’t alcohol to help you with that?
“What’s up with you? And why are you here? And not in Canterbury?” Krystal is a master of getting answers. Getting people drunk is one of the steps.
“Tiffany.”
A look of sudden realization dawns upon Krystal’s features. The younger leans back, and cups the mug in her hands to get warmth. Krystal doesn’t know the whole story. Even before, Jessica has only told the summarized version. But Krystal’s that smart to know how to fill in the gaps. Weirdly, Jessica even asks for Krystal’s advice when she was in relationship with Taeyeon.
“Does Yoona know that you’re here? And with Tiffany?”
“No.” Remembering her friend gives a bitter feeling in her stomach. Not because of Yoona’s past with Tiffany but because what a horrible friend Jessica has been. This results in swallowing another shot. “And no, I’m not with Tiffany. I don’t even know what we are.”
“You’ve seen her?”
Jessica looks at her younger sister incredulously. Sometimes, the girl asks a lot of questions but not a lot of right ones. “What do you think?”
“Oh, right. That answers why your hair looks shitty and smell of sex.”
“Thanks.” Jessica rolls her eyes at Krystal. She couldn’t help but smile at Krystal’s unnecessary and yet needed humor at a time like this.
“Tell me what the problem is. Though I have some ideas. But tell it in your own words. Defend yourself while you’re at it.”
Jessica ignores the last sentence. The alcohol has helped her in becoming more relax. She bites her lower lip in hesitation. She eyes the last shot on the table. Her finger rounds the mouth of the glass before she swallows the content.
There is a warm buzz in the air. Static looming over them. The low music tunes out in her ears. All she hears is Tiffany’s husky voice saying sorry over and over again. Her lips are burned with taste. A taste of scotch, a taste of lemon, a taste of Tiffany’s lips on hers, a taste of Tiffany’s skin, and everything that becomes of Tiffany’s. She sighs quietly, and her eyes click onto Krystal’s, who is waiting patiently, who is a careful listener, like a trained journalist.
She loves her sister. She really does. Without realizing it, there are tears in the corner of her eyes. Krystal takes notice of it but she does not do anything about it. Instead, she waits for her sister to pull herself together. Jessica cries a little because she knows if the amount of energy and love she spends on Tiffany is enough for all the people in her life who is deserving of that as well.
So, she starts carefully with her version of the story. Careful not to stay at one place too long, and moves onto the next quickly. Because if the minutes stretch a little longer, she isn’t sure if she’ll ever get the image of Tiffany’s beautiful smile and laugh out of her head. Or the way Tiffany says I love you as if she is born to say them to her. Or the feeling of Tiffany’s hands on her. Or how their bodies, in cliché terms, fit in with each other. Every curve and every line of Tiffany’s shape passes through her mind, settles inside of her like they belonged there all along.
And, so painfully, Tiffany’s laugh rings in her ears as a reminder to Jessica. It breaks her heart. Unaware in the beginning, Krystal holds Jessica’s hands in hers. As if a sense vulnerability is exposed in every said word by Jessica. But Jessica accepts her sister’s kind fingers, relishing in the texture of another person’s rather than Tiffany’s.
Alcohol doesn’t make her forget. It doesn’t numb her like it always used to. Alcohol exposes whatever truth Jessica holds and whatever is on her mind without giving time to censor them. The story ends when Jessica could feel the dryness of her throat. She drinks Krystal’s water.
“Do you still love her?” Krystal asks. She doesn’t really need to ask. But it is more of making Jessica think about what she’s going to do with the love she has for Tiffany.
Without a beat, Jessica says, “Yes.”
“How much?”
“A little too much.”
“What are you going to do about it?” Krystal has voiced her concerns, a little against of their relationship. She was there when Jessica cries herself to sleep or when Jessica doesn’t eat or whenever Jessica tries to ruin herself because Tiffany still lives in her like a parasite.
“Tell me that you feel the same,
And we’ll stay here forever.”
- Flight Facilities
The morning sun comes early during winter. Krystal rolls down all the windows. The cold air gushes in. Jessica would have complained but thinks better of it than to waste her energy over silly things. Krystal takes another glance at her, leaning the side of her against the steering wheel. Worry lines appear on her forehead. Jessica reaches her hand out to tuck the hair behind Krystal’s ear. It has been such a long time since they last had anything that involves only them, and nothing else. She wishes she could rewind the times, and never have to meet or remembering Tiffany, Taeyeon, and even Yoona.
Jessica meets Krystal’s eyes in silent understanding that she will be fine, and a little of “I know what I’m doing”. Krystal squeezes her sister’s cold fingers, and watch her enter the building before driving back home.
Honestly, Jessica has no idea what she is going to say to Tiffany or do. All she knows for now that she has to prepare heart, rub her shoes against the mat, and breathe. Then she knocks lightly. The door opens halfway, an anxious looking Tiffany stands before her. Tiffany lets out a sigh of relief as if Jessica isn’t the person she thought.
Before Jessica could further question why Tiffany was acting that way, Tiffany pulls her in and shuts the door behind her. “Gosh, Jess. Where the fuck were you?” She says in a strangled voice, running her hand through her messy hair. She paces back and forth, glancing her way in Jessica’s direction in intervals. “I was so worried. I tried to call you. But your phone was here.”
“Battery ran out.”
“Jesus, you scared me.” Tiffany stops and approaches Jessica so close, it reminds Jessica the time when Tiffany punched the wallboard. It brings an ache to her chest deep inside. “I tried searching for you. I went out. It was dark all around and it got me thinking all these horrible things.” Towards the end, Tiffany’s voice weakens and almost in a whisper. Her eyes speak of disbelief and not wanting to believe that things like that could happen to Jessica. “You fucking scared me.” Tiffany shakes Jessica by the arms. Subconsciously, the grip she has on Jessica is almost too tight.
Jessica’s lungs feel like they could explode and give in. She doesn’t even realize that she’s been holding her breath. She could feel her bones tremor a little under the weight of Tiffany’s glossy eyes on her. She has seen Tiffany in a similar demeanor but this one is for a different reason. As if the pain Tiffany feels is so excruciating, it passes onto Jessica. The electricity in the air intensifies even when Tiffany loosens her hold on her, and even when Tiffany’s eyes look they’ve seen too much of pain.
Tiffany’s features look harder and more real to Jessica. She is hauntingly beautiful in every new line Jessica discovers. All these months, adding up to Tiffany’s age, she grows and tastes like fine wine. Her cheekbones are more refined, but in a distance, they look so soft. Jessica couldn’t help but touch where the fresh cut is on Tiffany’s cheek. It wasn’t there hours ago. She wasn’t here hours ago as well. Jessica searches for something. Hoping there is a flicker of evidence involving a future for the both of them in Tiffany. She has been staring, searching, and discovering little things that are hidden behind the curves on Tiffany’s face, or in the little sparks of life in her eyes, or the little smiles that has been trying to fight off to show on her lips.
The past few days, she has seen Tiffany naked and clothed. She has tasted her without relishing in the feeling. She has done it without giving any time to appreciate the beauty in front of her. The only art she worships. The only music she could repeat without getting tired of Tiffany’s giggles and laughs. She has loved as if time is going to steal or separate the both of them again. It is only now that she realizes that it shouldn’t be that way.
Because like genius arts and music, love should be timeless. It is not superficial. It is indestructible. Unbreakable. It cannot be expressed through only words. And if only, they could stay this way, static and in clarity for what they feel for each other. But life isn’t that way. Alcohol may numb you for a while but when reality sets in, you feel everything for a long time. This love may be unbreakable, but it doesn’t say the same for their relationship.
Reality strips her bare. It disregards all the other things that serves as a distraction; music, glorious milky skin, petals, and lazy smiles by pretty girls. They are here, standing on a foundation which they can’t even put a name to it. Standing face to face, only a few inches between them, Jessica feels nothing but Tiffany. She is not herself. She can’t get herself out of Tiffany. She don’t think she ever will.
Standing there in the living room, with Jessica’s back against the door, and with Tiffany’s dazed expression and hard breaths, the doorbell rings and pulls both of them out of their trance. Reality comes knocking. Jessica moves out of the way as Tiffany looks into the peephole.
“Who is it?” Jessica tries to regain neutral breathing. She gazes around the room like she’s never been here before.
Anxiety spreads across Tiffany’s face. She looks back over her shoulder. Something is wrong.
“Who is it, Tiffany?”
“Wh-when I-I was out - ” Tiffany stutters and begins again, “When I was searching for you, a person who I didn’t want to see came up to me and I-I had to - ” Tiffany struggles to finish the sentence. “I didn’t know I was followed, and then you came back, and I thought you were - ”
Jessica scrambles to look who it is in the view. A man wearing uniform with a badge on the front pocket. That’s when she realizes how daunting it is. “What the fuck, Tiffany? I can’t believe this.” She hisses at her. “I really do not want to believe this.” The paranoia starts to set in like an ugly virus.
“Jessica,” Tiffany starts. And even before Tiffany says anything more, Jessica knows what she is asking. Without thinking (and breathing), she opens the door calmly with a smile.
“Good Morning, miss.”
“Mornin’ to you too, officer.” Jessica leaves little space in between the door and the panel, leaving almost zero chance for the police officer to look inside.
“I am sorry to interrupt you at this hour. Is there someone in this apartment besides you?”
Jessica’s mouth twitch a little. But the officer isn’t trained to look for hints in people’s faces. For that, she feels thankful. “Nope. It is just me, officer.” Subconsciously, her nails starts to scratch the surface of the wooden door. She is holding something inside. Whatever it is, it has taken a lot of resistance to not let it out.
A heavy weight is buried in her arms, in her legs, and in her chest. The police officer doesn’t take notice and continues in a dull voice, “Have you seen a five’ four, black hair, thin, female?”
“No.” Her voice comes out small. She could only imagine what Tiffany looks right now behind the door.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. May I ask why?”
There is a look of confusion pasted on the officer’s face. The man checks on his notes again. His eyes click onto Jessica’s to look for some kind of underlying confirmation. This unnerves Jessica a little.
“Sorry, miss. Confidentiality.” The man says in a smug manner. “Can I check around in the apartment?” The officer takes a step forward but Jessica stops with her hand in mid-air. Her legs are shaking. So are her other hand.
“I’m sorry, officer. It is too early for me to be dealing this kind of stuff. Unless you have a warrant, I would like to get back to my sleep.” Jessica fakes a yawn and sleepy eyes.
His mouth draws into a hard line. His eyebrows are knitted together, taking one last glance at Jessica before leaving the floor. Closing the door, Tiffany waits by the arm chair of the sofa, and subconsciously, touching her lips in nervousness.
Jessica remains silent and unmoving from where she stands.
“Jessica, I’m really sorry.” Tiffany mutters quickly. “Babe, I’m so sorry.” She walks forward to Jessica and leaves some space between as she is afraid that Jessica might react uncomfortably. But the latter appears impassive. Nothing in her eyes and nothing in her mouth to be voiced.
“Where is it?” There is flatness in Jessica’s voice. A dull resignation in the way she looks at Tiffany. “Where the fuck is it?” Jessica passes Tiffany in a poorly concealed aggression, making her way to the now-clean kitchen. She opens every drawer, every cabinet, and the items tremor under the sudden disturbance. All she sees are shadows casting over them. She grips onto the edge of the counter, willing herself to not rummage through them. She turns and rests against it, letting out a frustrated sigh.
“Jessica.” Tiffany follows her into the kitchen. Her eyes frantically look for forgiveness from Jessica.
“Nevermind.” It is barely above whisper. Jessica straightens her spine, and takes a deep breath to calm herself. “Have you ever thought about it?”
Tiffany knows better to not act clueless about the question so she lets out a sigh and rests against the wall. “Everyday.”
Jessica’s eyes flick onto Tiffany’s, finally seeing her. There is nothing in those pools. Nothing to make Tiffany feel moved or affected by. They are just empty. If only Tiffany knew that her own eyes did the same to Jessica.
“Every fucking day.” Tiffany’s gaze drops onto the ground, feeling ashamed of herself. In that moment, under the fluorescent dim light, Tiffany looks like the girl Jessica saw a year ago, fragile and lost. Last year, she would have felt a sense of obligation to protect her. Now, she just feels sad for her but that quickly changes when Tiffany speaks up again, “I think to myself, maybe one, maybe just one, and then my life crumbles under my feet. You don’t know how fucking hard it is to live in a mind like this.” Tiffany clenches her jaw and shuts her eyes at the painful nostalgia. It is as though she comes back crashing down from the high. Jessica doesn’t know what to say to that. No words could comfort the war Tiffany faces daily. Not even Jessica’s love could tame the beast that is gnawing inside of Tiffany.
Tiffany lets out a dry laugh shortly after, “But ever since I saw you at the concert.” Her expression changes into a softer shade, like she is where she is supposed to be; safe and in peace. “Ever since you came back to me. I promise you and I swear to you. There was never a time when I wanted to when I was with you. Because you are my blue light.” Their eyes lock onto each other’s. Jessica sees fear in Tiffany’s trembling lips and the pools of her eyes. She realizes that she may have been selfish enough to not think about what Tiffany has to go through every day, and insensible enough to swim in a self-pity pond. She swallows in the black guilt down her dry throat.
Tiffany hesitates at first, and then she closes in the distance between them. Jessica wills herself to look away, exposing her neck to Tiffany. She tries to move back, feeling the hard edge of the counter. She doesn’t care if her back starts to ache. All she cares is Tiffany’s pain. If only she could, she would be more than willing to take the inside scars Tiffany habours and buries them or imprints them onto her own bones.
Hot breath touches Jessica’s neck, making it harder to maintain posture. She could hear her heart thumping in her ears, or maybe Tiffany’s as well. The bones in her loosens, and trembles. Jessica could feel the pressure of Tiffany’s eyes trailing down the length of her neck, to her clavicle, to her chest, and then back to her side profile. The morning sunlight filters in through the kitchen window, and lines and touches Jessica’s side profile. Tiffany’s stare feels like sweet burns on her.
Jessica manages to suck in a deep breath. And when Tiffany’s voice drops to a husky whisper, “Look at me.” Jessica’s lungs stop for a millisecond. Her breath hitches when the back of Tiffany’s fingers caress her cheek. “Please.” Tiffany’s mouth leaving ghost kisses on the visible veins on Jessica’s neck.
Before she loses the little control she has left, she speaks in a low strangling tone and gives Tiffany an ultimatum. “Choose. Me or the drugs.” She doesn’t even want to believe that the already spoken words came from her. For the smallest of seconds, she desperately wants to take it back. How incredibly sad that is, to be categorized alongside illegal substances.
The two seconds of silence feels like it has stretched to forever. Then she numbs herself by numbing her lips with Tiffany’s. She numbs her hearing just for a few minutes when Tiffany’s moans fills the room. She numbs her sight when Tiffany’s head falls back, forehead covered in sweat. Tiffany becomes the very version of a human drug. And their version of love is only there to heighten the feeling.
Wish away the nightmare
You've got a light you can feel it on your back
- Radiohead
A/N: Btw, there must be a lot of mistakes or missing words. Cause I just caught one and facepalm me. I would like to apologize for that.
Hours later
If drugs are going to be death of Tiffany indirectly or directly, then Tiffany would be the death of Jessica. If she continues to let Tiffany get under her skin too comfortably. She watches Tiffany taking in slow breaths, Tiffany sleeping soundly and peacefully, naked beside her.
The pads of Jessica’s finger almost touch the skin on Tiffany’s chest and stomach. Leaving trails of ghost touches, the tiny hairs rises up. Just watching Tiffany, hurts Jessica. She loves her. But she knows she can’t if Tiffany continues her drug dealing.
She gazes around the room and realizes how many items were bought with drug money. But she loves her too much to not be entirely bothered by it. Maybe that is the main problem.
It is too much.
“You’ll ruin me if I let you.” Jessica says, barely above whisper. “I’ll ruin myself over and over again for you if I let myself.” Then it is question of choice, should she or should she not?
She’ll never know if she doesn’t try out the hope she places for Tiffany. There is no difference to how Tiffany is now and the past. She knows she’s going to lose her either way. To doing drugs or selling them. And that knowledge is too much for her.
So she gets up from the bed, puts on a stretched shirt, and searches for a cigarette pack in the bedside drawer. When she finds one, she opens a window to let in the fresh air, and then she leans her hip against the panel, and lights a cigarette. Her arm tucked under the other.
The smoke she inhales is now absorbed into her lungs. She feels at ease, forgetting where she is now or what she knows. There are so many reasons why she should leave Tiffany. Too many fucking reasons, she realizes.
And she questions herself every time on why she’s still here. Is love really that big and empowering, everything else you know, is irrational?
“I didn’t know you smoke.” A voice interrupted Jessica’s train of thoughts. Tiffany has woken up. Her eyes fluttering open. Jessica feels the urge to kiss her eyelids close. She exhales the smoke, and joins Tiffany in the bed again.
Tiffany’s confessions poke at Jessica’s brain to be reminded of, but she ignores by numbing herself with smokes and fucks. Tiffany grabs the cigarette from Jessica and sucks in the bud.
“I didn’t know you could even more stupid.” Jessica says in a dull voice, lost all care in the world in that moment. Tiffany ignores it and gets a case from the bedside drawer. She opens the case and there are rolled up papers in them.
“Spliffs.” Tiffany says, as if she’s answering Jessica’s curiosity. She takes out one out and light it with the end of the cigarette. She puts aside the cigarette and places the spliff in between her lips. She takes a slow drag, and then breathe. Her eyes half-lidded.
Jessica just stares at Tiffany, mesmerized again.
“Come here.” Tiffany sits up, gesturing Jessica to do the same. Jessica complies absentmindedly. Tiffany’s face closes in the inches between them. Their lips almost touching each other. Jessica’s eyes half-way closes. Something takes hold inside of her.
The close proximity is enough to fill her head with haziness. The warmth radiated from Tiffany is intoxicating. Tiffany’s lips are enticing to be bitten. She has forgotten everything else. Her mind is clear and free from anything.
Tiffany pulls back a little, and takes a heavy drag of the spliff. Tendrils of smoke escape. The corner of her lips turn up suggestively. In that moment, Jessica can’t help but pull Tiffany back in by the neck. Lips almost touching. Tiffany caresses Jessica’s cheek, and her thumb slides along Jessica’s lips to part them.
Then, in pure pleasure and desire, Tiffany mildly opens her mouth and blow softly the smoke into Jessica’s mouth. This act of intimacy is mind-whirling, Jessica never had such a high. It’s the combination of everything, the spliff, skin, lemon scent, and Tiffany. Tiffany. Tiffany. She really did forget.
All she can think is wanting more of this. More of Tiffany. She closes in the minute distance between them. Tiffany sets aside the joint, and leaning back onto the bed to give more room for Jessica’s sudden appetite. Jessica’s hair is getting in the way of their kissing.
It’s messy. Complicated. Jessica’s weight on Tiffany is starting to feel uncomfortable. Tiffany feels the jabs of Jessica’s elbow into her ribs. She yelps a little. “Jessica, wait a min’” But Jessica doesn’t listen. She’s slumped heavily on Tiffany. Her legs starting to cramp a little. “Baby, wait.”
Jessica pulls away and plops beside Tiffany. She sighs in frustration and resignation. “Fuck.” She says with no reason behind it. The high is gone and she’s now feeling the crash. They had enough, anyway. She knows she’s tiring Tiffany out. Her jaw and limbs ached.
Her bones feels heavy. Her heart heavier. And her mind is all messed up. How could she be disentangled so quickly in less than a week after months of straightening herself out? How could she be so blind and ignorant at the fact that a feeling like this would only disappear so quickly like smoke? She knows this.
She knows. She knows.
Yet she ignores. For Tiffany. For herself, stupidly.
“I can’t, Tiffany.” Jessica whispers without putting much thought into it.
“What?” Tiffany lies on her side. Her head leans against her hand for support, allowing her to look at Jessica curiously.
“I can’t, Tiffany. I can’t keep doing this.” Jessica’s eyes is almost brimming with tears. Her voice trembles. “I can’t.” Her lips reluctant to move. The atmosphere is suddenly heavy and thick. As if the weight on her chest is going to cave in on her.
“Can’t what, Jessica? Can’t keep doing what?” Tiffany asks. But Jessica senses that Tiffany must have an idea.
“I can’t keep ruining myself over you.”
Silence descends upon them. Tiffany doesn’t say or do anything. In the corner of Jessica’s eyes, she could make out the lost in Tiffany’s eyes. The purse of Tiffany’s lips, where Jessica nibbled on them a minute ago, and carefully to not be too hard on where she has bit them. Tiffany exhales audibly, and gets up from the bed. It’s Tiffany turn to look outside the window and light up the end of the cigarette stick.
Midnight
It’s raining tonight. Tiffany has said nothing since the bedroom. She continues her day, doing nothing, and just watching reruns of Madmen.
Jessica has had mixed of emotions ranging from confusion to anger to resignation and then back to confusion. She can’t be near her. She isn’t sure if Tiffany wants her to be near. Every time she takes a glance at Tiffany’s eyes, they’re empty and black.
Hours of silence and avoidance. Even if they’re a room apart, there’s a certain heaviness to the atmosphere. An ugly invisible beast gnawing its way out from nowhere. It’s truth that is the monster. People think that they fear for the monster. But what they’re really afraid is the truth. The truth where the monster is the reflection of themselves.
She used to think that without all the drama, the drug using, and the complications come with it, would no longer apply for them anymore. How she is mistaken now. It’s deeper. It’s no knee deep. Way. Way deeper than that. It’s only minutes before the mud reaches her mouth and takes her. takes her away. She should get out. She can.
Why is she still here then?
When Jessica has finished showering, Tiffany is nowhere to be found. She’s gone. Panic rises up her in throat. Then she calm herself when she realizes that this isn’t her apartment. It’s Tiffany’s. God, even now, she has this short panic episodes and the plummeting feeling when Tiffany’s gone. The past still catches up to her.
Who is she kidding? Nothing has really changed for the good.
Tiffany’s probably out somewhere, mulling over something, Jessica assures herself. She doesn’t want to see her. But yet she wants to know she’s still here. How crazy is that? A little after twelve, Jessica pour herself a glass of wine, and drinking at the kitchen table.
The space is small but enough for two people to go around. She huffs when she starts to think about the future. She takes a step forward, and the result backfires by going two steps backwards. She hears the door closing. There is the rustling of plastic bags and keys. Tiffany enters the kitchen. Their eyes briefly met. Jessica looks at Tiffany for a moment and finds the wine glass more interesting.
Tiffany takes off her soaked coat, and sits opposite of Jessica. “Have you eaten?” She asks, like nothing happened between them. Jessica doesn’t answer and finishes her wine. She could smell the strong alcohol from Tiffany. The girl’s been drinking.
“Why?” Jessica asks in a tired voice. She slumps a little on the chair. Her fingers tapping against the glass as she holds it. She doesn’t look at her when she asks vaguely. “Why, Tiffany?”
“Why what?”
She has no time for this beat-around bullshit so she glares at Tiffany briefly.
“I don’t know.” Tiffany sighs in resignation and leans back against the chair. “I don’t know. It was the only way. To make quick money. Pay off the debts. I was good at doing it. I was making money. I am making money. If it wasn’t for this, I wouldn’t have this apartment. I wouldn’t have met you again.” Her voice is apologetic but Jessica isn’t having any of it.
“You’re full of shit, Tiffany.” Jessica says through her gritted teeth. The anger she has is thick like mud, heavy and volatile. Something inside of her is ready to erupt a wave of destruction.
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me.” Jessica holds Tiffany’s gaze. Her jaw clenches. Her hold around the glass tightens.
“Jessica, if only you understand, I - ”
Jessica lunges the glass to the wall behind Tiffany, and luckily, Tiffany ducks. The glass shatters and drops to the floor. It looks as if there’s blood on the walls and floor.
“Bloody hell, Jessica!” Immediately, Tiffany stands up and sees the red stains on her shirt. Her eyes fleeting back and forth from the wall to Jessica’s empty eyes. She runs her hand through her hair, still shock by what Jessica did. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”
Jessica walks around the round table, and shoves Tiffany into the wine splattered wall. “Fuck you, Tiffany. Fuck you.” Without another second, her ears are filled with tears. So are Tiffany’s. “I hate you. I hate you.” She slams her fist onto Tiffany’s shoulder. “I hate you and I love you.” Her voice no longer filled with anger and force. Instead, it comes out weak. As if all the crying she did has sucked the energy out of her.
Tiffany’s lips part but nothing comes out. She places her hands on Jessica’s arms, and pulls her into an embrace. Jessica struggles initially but her determination is wearing thin. She gives up and rests her head on Tiffany’s shoulder.
Her arms circle around Tiffany’s waist. She feels the ribs against her own. Tiffany isn’t as skinny or breakable like a year ago. Yet, the thought of almost breaking Tiffany still haunts her. Tiffany’s warmth was addicting. And Jessica wishes that they could just stay this way for as long as time allows them.
She leaves open mouth kisses along Tiffany’s shoulder. Her hands roam around Tiffany’s back underneath the thin fabric. Her fingers unhook the bra. As she begins to pull Tiffany’s shirt up, the latter pauses her.
“Jessica.” Tiffany pulls back a little, and her eyes searches for something in Jessica’s empty eyes. She doesn’t question further.
“Please.” It comes out in a pleading whisper.
“No, Jessica.”
Jessica’s eyes takes a different shade. Her irises swallowed by blackness. All under one second, her mood changes to a dirty foul. She separates from Tiffany’s embrace abruptly. “Get away from me.” Every inch of her feels like fire. Every touch of Tiffany’s feels like the end of a cigarette burn. The room is out of air. So are her lungs. So are the spaces and the forgiveness she emplaces for Tiffany.
“Jessica, come on.” Tiffany takes a step closer. And Jessica takes a hundred steps backwards.
“Don’t.” Jessica shakes her head, realizing how stupid she is. Especially now. She walks out of the kitchen, and grabs her keys and wallet on her way out of the apartment.
“Don’t fucking walk away from me, Jessica!” Tiffany shouts but does nothing to stop Jessica. She slams her fist against the plasterboard and curses when she accidentally steps on the broken glass. What Jessica couldn’t hear the words afterwards are, “Don’t leave me again.”
Out somewhere far from the building, Jessica uses the first payphone she sees. The premise hits home when she remembers the time when she found Tiffany sitting, looking almost dead. It almost makes her want to go back to the apartment and be with Tiffany. Regaining strength, she punches in the numbers after inserting a few pence. She then speaks through her chattering teeth, “Can you help me?”
“You don't want to hurt me,
But see how deep the bullet lies.”
- Kate Bush
Sometime after midnight
Taking shelter under the bus stop, Jessica waits and waits for the person she think she would never have to call for help. Yoona’s miles away. And it wouldn’t be appropriate considering she slept with her ex-girlfriend. Then she tries to recall how long since they had a real conversation. Ever since Tiffany disappeared from their lives last year, Yoona hasn’t been around that much, and giving excuses to outings as she buries herself in her studies.
Jessica blows warm air into her freezing hands. At this rate, she could get frostbite. Darkness looms around her. The only light coming is from the street lamp which keeps flickering. Several minutes, there is a breeze, adding more to coldness. Droplets of rain reaches her. She contemplates real hard on whether she should get back to Tiffany’s or at least, inside Tiffany’s building. She thinks better of it. She rather die here, sitting on this metal bench in a deserted area, rather to be in the warmth of Tiffany’s arms. Scratch that, she wouldn’t purposely freeze herself to death because she is mad because of Tiffany.
She groans when she thinks of it again. The taste of regret rides up her throat. She should be grateful that she is the only one here, and no one else to creep her out or possibly rob or worse, sexually assault her. The paranoia grows so she tries to think of something else.
Every time she tries, her mind goes back to Tiffany. If there were tears, they would freeze. Lights coming from her right blinds her. Instinctively, she shields her eyes with her hands. The car parks parallel in front of her, and the passenger door opens.
“Well, what are you waiting for, sis?” Krystal yells through the rain. Jessica runs into the car and shuts the door before the side compartment gets wet. Krystal glances at her briefly, and then drives. Jessica knows Krystal is dying to ask about her situation. But Krystal says nothing and turns up the heater.
The heat feels heaven on Jessica. She has never felt this grateful for Krystal until now. She sees the twitch in Krystal’s lips, and the resistance in her manner. “You can ask.”
“Ask what?” Krystal says in an uncharacteristically high pitch voice, and looks at her innocently before averting her gaze back to the road. Jessica’s eyebrow arches up to tell Krystal that she is not fooling anyone. Especially at a time like this. “Alright, fine. I deserve to know. I woke up because of you.” Krystal stresses on the last part. “What’s so bloody important that you had to call me and pick you up in the middle nowhere?”
“It’s not in the middle of nowhere if you can find me..” Jessica mumbles.
“That’s not the point.” Krystal huffs and tightens her hold around the steering wheel. “It is as if I’m talking to a five year old.”
“You don’t know what I’ve been through.”
“What? Is it really that bad? Worse than some people in..”
“Oh, shut up. Don’t compare my first world problems with third world’s.” Jessica rolls her eyes. She really wishes for a thick sweater right now. “I need my sister.”
“Usually, it would be the other way around.” Krystal adds. “What happened to you?”
Jessica is uncertain if Krystal’s question refers to recent events or her as a whole. She keeps quiet and turns to look outside the car window. The question hangs in the quiet air. Few minutes later, Krystal slows and pulls to a stop in front of a discreet looking bar.
“Why are we here?” Jessica asks, sitting up straight. Krystal turns off the engine and check herself out in the mirror, applying lip balm in the process.
“To drink.”
“I don’t want a drink.” Then Jessica realizes how sulky it sounds.
“Well gee, Jess, it’s not all about you. I need a drink. Contrary to what you believe, you look like you need one as well.” Krystal picks up her wallet and gets out of the car. She bends down to look at Jessica. “Come on.” Jessica begrudgingly agrees and follows behind.
The warmth of the bar welcomes them too, changing Jessica’s mind from negative to a not so much of being a pain the ass. Krystal chooses the booth, and sits in the opposite direction of Jessica. A waitress, who looks like she rather be somewhere else at three o’clock, comes to their service.
“Two shots of scotch. Keep em’ coming until I say so.” Krystal takes off her coat where Jessica continues to rub herself. “You look a little blue there, Jess.”
“No shit, Sherlock.”
“Someone’s in a foul mood. The person who should be in one is me.” The shots arrive, and Krystal gulps one down. She passes the other to Jessica. “Drink up. It’ll warm you quick.” Jessica hesitates but eventually she takes it.
She hisses at the burn of strong alcohol down her throat. Seconds later, she feels a little warmth. When another round comes, she drinks down two of the shots, and feels a little buzz. The shots keep coming but Krystal no longer touches them. “Why aren’t you drinking?”
“Who else is going to drive us?” Krystal calls for a lukewarm water and a mug of coffee. Her usual routine. Jessica lets out a soft chuckle at Krystal’s long time tradition. “What?”
“Nothing.” Jessica holds her hand up when the waitress comes back, signaling her to stop. She already feels like shit. Isn’t alcohol to help you with that?
“What’s up with you? And why are you here? And not in Canterbury?” Krystal is a master of getting answers. Getting people drunk is one of the steps.
“Tiffany.”
A look of sudden realization dawns upon Krystal’s features. The younger leans back, and cups the mug in her hands to get warmth. Krystal doesn’t know the whole story. Even before, Jessica has only told the summarized version. But Krystal’s that smart to know how to fill in the gaps. Weirdly, Jessica even asks for Krystal’s advice when she was in relationship with Taeyeon.
“Does Yoona know that you’re here? And with Tiffany?”
“No.” Remembering her friend gives a bitter feeling in her stomach. Not because of Yoona’s past with Tiffany but because what a horrible friend Jessica has been. This results in swallowing another shot. “And no, I’m not with Tiffany. I don’t even know what we are.”
“You’ve seen her?”
Jessica looks at her younger sister incredulously. Sometimes, the girl asks a lot of questions but not a lot of right ones. “What do you think?”
“Oh, right. That answers why your hair looks shitty and smell of sex.”
“Thanks.” Jessica rolls her eyes at Krystal. She couldn’t help but smile at Krystal’s unnecessary and yet needed humor at a time like this.
“Tell me what the problem is. Though I have some ideas. But tell it in your own words. Defend yourself while you’re at it.”
Jessica ignores the last sentence. The alcohol has helped her in becoming more relax. She bites her lower lip in hesitation. She eyes the last shot on the table. Her finger rounds the mouth of the glass before she swallows the content.
There is a warm buzz in the air. Static looming over them. The low music tunes out in her ears. All she hears is Tiffany’s husky voice saying sorry over and over again. Her lips are burned with taste. A taste of scotch, a taste of lemon, a taste of Tiffany’s lips on hers, a taste of Tiffany’s skin, and everything that becomes of Tiffany’s. She sighs quietly, and her eyes click onto Krystal’s, who is waiting patiently, who is a careful listener, like a trained journalist.
She loves her sister. She really does. Without realizing it, there are tears in the corner of her eyes. Krystal takes notice of it but she does not do anything about it. Instead, she waits for her sister to pull herself together. Jessica cries a little because she knows if the amount of energy and love she spends on Tiffany is enough for all the people in her life who is deserving of that as well.
So, she starts carefully with her version of the story. Careful not to stay at one place too long, and moves onto the next quickly. Because if the minutes stretch a little longer, she isn’t sure if she’ll ever get the image of Tiffany’s beautiful smile and laugh out of her head. Or the way Tiffany says I love you as if she is born to say them to her. Or the feeling of Tiffany’s hands on her. Or how their bodies, in cliché terms, fit in with each other. Every curve and every line of Tiffany’s shape passes through her mind, settles inside of her like they belonged there all along.
And, so painfully, Tiffany’s laugh rings in her ears as a reminder to Jessica. It breaks her heart. Unaware in the beginning, Krystal holds Jessica’s hands in hers. As if a sense vulnerability is exposed in every said word by Jessica. But Jessica accepts her sister’s kind fingers, relishing in the texture of another person’s rather than Tiffany’s.
Alcohol doesn’t make her forget. It doesn’t numb her like it always used to. Alcohol exposes whatever truth Jessica holds and whatever is on her mind without giving time to censor them. The story ends when Jessica could feel the dryness of her throat. She drinks Krystal’s water.
“Do you still love her?” Krystal asks. She doesn’t really need to ask. But it is more of making Jessica think about what she’s going to do with the love she has for Tiffany.
Without a beat, Jessica says, “Yes.”
“How much?”
“A little too much.”
“What are you going to do about it?” Krystal has voiced her concerns, a little against of their relationship. She was there when Jessica cries herself to sleep or when Jessica doesn’t eat or whenever Jessica tries to ruin herself because Tiffany still lives in her like a parasite.
“Tell me that you feel the same,
And we’ll stay here forever.”
- Flight Facilities
The morning sun comes early during winter. Krystal rolls down all the windows. The cold air gushes in. Jessica would have complained but thinks better of it than to waste her energy over silly things. Krystal takes another glance at her, leaning the side of her against the steering wheel. Worry lines appear on her forehead. Jessica reaches her hand out to tuck the hair behind Krystal’s ear. It has been such a long time since they last had anything that involves only them, and nothing else. She wishes she could rewind the times, and never have to meet or remembering Tiffany, Taeyeon, and even Yoona.
Jessica meets Krystal’s eyes in silent understanding that she will be fine, and a little of “I know what I’m doing”. Krystal squeezes her sister’s cold fingers, and watch her enter the building before driving back home.
Honestly, Jessica has no idea what she is going to say to Tiffany or do. All she knows for now that she has to prepare heart, rub her shoes against the mat, and breathe. Then she knocks lightly. The door opens halfway, an anxious looking Tiffany stands before her. Tiffany lets out a sigh of relief as if Jessica isn’t the person she thought.
Before Jessica could further question why Tiffany was acting that way, Tiffany pulls her in and shuts the door behind her. “Gosh, Jess. Where the fuck were you?” She says in a strangled voice, running her hand through her messy hair. She paces back and forth, glancing her way in Jessica’s direction in intervals. “I was so worried. I tried to call you. But your phone was here.”
“Battery ran out.”
“Jesus, you scared me.” Tiffany stops and approaches Jessica so close, it reminds Jessica the time when Tiffany punched the wallboard. It brings an ache to her chest deep inside. “I tried searching for you. I went out. It was dark all around and it got me thinking all these horrible things.” Towards the end, Tiffany’s voice weakens and almost in a whisper. Her eyes speak of disbelief and not wanting to believe that things like that could happen to Jessica. “You fucking scared me.” Tiffany shakes Jessica by the arms. Subconsciously, the grip she has on Jessica is almost too tight.
Jessica’s lungs feel like they could explode and give in. She doesn’t even realize that she’s been holding her breath. She could feel her bones tremor a little under the weight of Tiffany’s glossy eyes on her. She has seen Tiffany in a similar demeanor but this one is for a different reason. As if the pain Tiffany feels is so excruciating, it passes onto Jessica. The electricity in the air intensifies even when Tiffany loosens her hold on her, and even when Tiffany’s eyes look they’ve seen too much of pain.
Tiffany’s features look harder and more real to Jessica. She is hauntingly beautiful in every new line Jessica discovers. All these months, adding up to Tiffany’s age, she grows and tastes like fine wine. Her cheekbones are more refined, but in a distance, they look so soft. Jessica couldn’t help but touch where the fresh cut is on Tiffany’s cheek. It wasn’t there hours ago. She wasn’t here hours ago as well. Jessica searches for something. Hoping there is a flicker of evidence involving a future for the both of them in Tiffany. She has been staring, searching, and discovering little things that are hidden behind the curves on Tiffany’s face, or in the little sparks of life in her eyes, or the little smiles that has been trying to fight off to show on her lips.
The past few days, she has seen Tiffany naked and clothed. She has tasted her without relishing in the feeling. She has done it without giving any time to appreciate the beauty in front of her. The only art she worships. The only music she could repeat without getting tired of Tiffany’s giggles and laughs. She has loved as if time is going to steal or separate the both of them again. It is only now that she realizes that it shouldn’t be that way.
Because like genius arts and music, love should be timeless. It is not superficial. It is indestructible. Unbreakable. It cannot be expressed through only words. And if only, they could stay this way, static and in clarity for what they feel for each other. But life isn’t that way. Alcohol may numb you for a while but when reality sets in, you feel everything for a long time. This love may be unbreakable, but it doesn’t say the same for their relationship.
Reality strips her bare. It disregards all the other things that serves as a distraction; music, glorious milky skin, petals, and lazy smiles by pretty girls. They are here, standing on a foundation which they can’t even put a name to it. Standing face to face, only a few inches between them, Jessica feels nothing but Tiffany. She is not herself. She can’t get herself out of Tiffany. She don’t think she ever will.
Standing there in the living room, with Jessica’s back against the door, and with Tiffany’s dazed expression and hard breaths, the doorbell rings and pulls both of them out of their trance. Reality comes knocking. Jessica moves out of the way as Tiffany looks into the peephole.
“Who is it?” Jessica tries to regain neutral breathing. She gazes around the room like she’s never been here before.
Anxiety spreads across Tiffany’s face. She looks back over her shoulder. Something is wrong.
“Who is it, Tiffany?”
“Wh-when I-I was out - ” Tiffany stutters and begins again, “When I was searching for you, a person who I didn’t want to see came up to me and I-I had to - ” Tiffany struggles to finish the sentence. “I didn’t know I was followed, and then you came back, and I thought you were - ”
Jessica scrambles to look who it is in the view. A man wearing uniform with a badge on the front pocket. That’s when she realizes how daunting it is. “What the fuck, Tiffany? I can’t believe this.” She hisses at her. “I really do not want to believe this.” The paranoia starts to set in like an ugly virus.
“Jessica,” Tiffany starts. And even before Tiffany says anything more, Jessica knows what she is asking. Without thinking (and breathing), she opens the door calmly with a smile.
“Good Morning, miss.”
“Mornin’ to you too, officer.” Jessica leaves little space in between the door and the panel, leaving almost zero chance for the police officer to look inside.
“I am sorry to interrupt you at this hour. Is there someone in this apartment besides you?”
Jessica’s mouth twitch a little. But the officer isn’t trained to look for hints in people’s faces. For that, she feels thankful. “Nope. It is just me, officer.” Subconsciously, her nails starts to scratch the surface of the wooden door. She is holding something inside. Whatever it is, it has taken a lot of resistance to not let it out.
A heavy weight is buried in her arms, in her legs, and in her chest. The police officer doesn’t take notice and continues in a dull voice, “Have you seen a five’ four, black hair, thin, female?”
“No.” Her voice comes out small. She could only imagine what Tiffany looks right now behind the door.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. May I ask why?”
There is a look of confusion pasted on the officer’s face. The man checks on his notes again. His eyes click onto Jessica’s to look for some kind of underlying confirmation. This unnerves Jessica a little.
“Sorry, miss. Confidentiality.” The man says in a smug manner. “Can I check around in the apartment?” The officer takes a step forward but Jessica stops with her hand in mid-air. Her legs are shaking. So are her other hand.
“I’m sorry, officer. It is too early for me to be dealing this kind of stuff. Unless you have a warrant, I would like to get back to my sleep.” Jessica fakes a yawn and sleepy eyes.
His mouth draws into a hard line. His eyebrows are knitted together, taking one last glance at Jessica before leaving the floor. Closing the door, Tiffany waits by the arm chair of the sofa, and subconsciously, touching her lips in nervousness.
Jessica remains silent and unmoving from where she stands.
“Jessica, I’m really sorry.” Tiffany mutters quickly. “Babe, I’m so sorry.” She walks forward to Jessica and leaves some space between as she is afraid that Jessica might react uncomfortably. But the latter appears impassive. Nothing in her eyes and nothing in her mouth to be voiced.
“Where is it?” There is flatness in Jessica’s voice. A dull resignation in the way she looks at Tiffany. “Where the fuck is it?” Jessica passes Tiffany in a poorly concealed aggression, making her way to the now-clean kitchen. She opens every drawer, every cabinet, and the items tremor under the sudden disturbance. All she sees are shadows casting over them. She grips onto the edge of the counter, willing herself to not rummage through them. She turns and rests against it, letting out a frustrated sigh.
“Jessica.” Tiffany follows her into the kitchen. Her eyes frantically look for forgiveness from Jessica.
“Nevermind.” It is barely above whisper. Jessica straightens her spine, and takes a deep breath to calm herself. “Have you ever thought about it?”
Tiffany knows better to not act clueless about the question so she lets out a sigh and rests against the wall. “Everyday.”
Jessica’s eyes flick onto Tiffany’s, finally seeing her. There is nothing in those pools. Nothing to make Tiffany feel moved or affected by. They are just empty. If only Tiffany knew that her own eyes did the same to Jessica.
“Every fucking day.” Tiffany’s gaze drops onto the ground, feeling ashamed of herself. In that moment, under the fluorescent dim light, Tiffany looks like the girl Jessica saw a year ago, fragile and lost. Last year, she would have felt a sense of obligation to protect her. Now, she just feels sad for her but that quickly changes when Tiffany speaks up again, “I think to myself, maybe one, maybe just one, and then my life crumbles under my feet. You don’t know how fucking hard it is to live in a mind like this.” Tiffany clenches her jaw and shuts her eyes at the painful nostalgia. It is as though she comes back crashing down from the high. Jessica doesn’t know what to say to that. No words could comfort the war Tiffany faces daily. Not even Jessica’s love could tame the beast that is gnawing inside of Tiffany.
Tiffany lets out a dry laugh shortly after, “But ever since I saw you at the concert.” Her expression changes into a softer shade, like she is where she is supposed to be; safe and in peace. “Ever since you came back to me. I promise you and I swear to you. There was never a time when I wanted to when I was with you. Because you are my blue light.” Their eyes lock onto each other’s. Jessica sees fear in Tiffany’s trembling lips and the pools of her eyes. She realizes that she may have been selfish enough to not think about what Tiffany has to go through every day, and insensible enough to swim in a self-pity pond. She swallows in the black guilt down her dry throat.
Tiffany hesitates at first, and then she closes in the distance between them. Jessica wills herself to look away, exposing her neck to Tiffany. She tries to move back, feeling the hard edge of the counter. She doesn’t care if her back starts to ache. All she cares is Tiffany’s pain. If only she could, she would be more than willing to take the inside scars Tiffany habours and buries them or imprints them onto her own bones.
Hot breath touches Jessica’s neck, making it harder to maintain posture. She could hear her heart thumping in her ears, or maybe Tiffany’s as well. The bones in her loosens, and trembles. Jessica could feel the pressure of Tiffany’s eyes trailing down the length of her neck, to her clavicle, to her chest, and then back to her side profile. The morning sunlight filters in through the kitchen window, and lines and touches Jessica’s side profile. Tiffany’s stare feels like sweet burns on her.
Jessica manages to suck in a deep breath. And when Tiffany’s voice drops to a husky whisper, “Look at me.” Jessica’s lungs stop for a millisecond. Her breath hitches when the back of Tiffany’s fingers caress her cheek. “Please.” Tiffany’s mouth leaving ghost kisses on the visible veins on Jessica’s neck.
Before she loses the little control she has left, she speaks in a low strangling tone and gives Tiffany an ultimatum. “Choose. Me or the drugs.” She doesn’t even want to believe that the already spoken words came from her. For the smallest of seconds, she desperately wants to take it back. How incredibly sad that is, to be categorized alongside illegal substances.
The two seconds of silence feels like it has stretched to forever. Then she numbs herself by numbing her lips with Tiffany’s. She numbs her hearing just for a few minutes when Tiffany’s moans fills the room. She numbs her sight when Tiffany’s head falls back, forehead covered in sweat. Tiffany becomes the very version of a human drug. And their version of love is only there to heighten the feeling.
Wish away the nightmare
You've got a light you can feel it on your back
- Radiohead
A/N: Btw, there must be a lot of mistakes or missing words. Cause I just caught one and facepalm me. I would like to apologize for that.