You and I Were Born to Die

The subway rocks beneath me as I attempt to shake off my hangover. The swaying isn’t helping. I take sips of my water bottle, but it only makes it worse. Maybe I should have spent the rest of the afternoon in bed. Maybe I should kill Hutton and Naomi for keeping me up most of the night.

The conductor attempts to make an announcement at the next stop but it just comes out muffled and staticy. The train jolts forward. I move one hand from the bar to message my brow and then run it through my hair, cursing myself for knowing better. I place my hand back on the bar and feel a presence notably close to me.

“Are you stalking me?” Initially I ignore the statement but then realize it is met with no response. I turn and see Alex, from last night. A slight smile form across my lips.

“I could ask you the same, Cobain.”

“I guess you were here first.” We both chuckle. “What dream are you crushing?” He gestures to my name tag.

I nod, remembering my uniform, “I’m a painter.” I gesture to his name tag, “You mean your big rockstar salary isn’t cutting it?”

He smiles, “Not yet. One day.”

“Well don’t forget about us small people when you’re a big star.” The subway dings to a stop. I nod and walk towards the door.

He calls toward me, “where can I find you?”

I spit out my address to a complete stranger before the doors close between us. I watch the subway speed away from the platform.

***

Work is busy, as usual. People keep weird hours in the city, especially at trendy places like Essex, the tapas restaurant I worked at. I shovel ice into a glass as Naomi drags ass through the back door.

She stands next to me, takes a glass from my tray, and begins to fill it with ice for me. I shoot her a look. She mouths “I’m sorry”. I was pissed, but wether she knew it or not, Hutton was good for her. If putting up with a few sleepless nights was the price to pay for her settling down, I was okay with that. I smile and thank her, walking away.

***

Later that evening, I lay across my bed sketching. I jump up, laughing as John attempts to take the pad from me.

“Please, just let me see,” he pleads.

“Not a chance,” I bounce across the mattress from him. John makes an aggressive advance at me, always too interested in critiquing my art, rather than offering constructive criticism.

I never told him when his band’s music sounded stupid. Though, as of lately, I was admittedly more into it than his past work.

He finally pins me beneath him, taking the pad from my hand and throwing it across the room. His lips meet mine, as his other hand swiftly pops the buttons free on my shirt. I don’t fight it. Sex is always preferable to debating art.

There’s a knock at the door, Hutton answers.

John is already working on my jeans by the time he calls for me. I sigh and roll out from under him, pulling my shirt back on before I reach the door.

I’m a little more than surprised when I’m met with Alex’s hopeful eyes on the other side of the threshold. Shocked that he had even heard me that afternoon on the subway, much less remembered where I live.

“Hi,” I answer, half way flushed and dazed.

“Hey,” he smiles.

I feel a hand at the small of my back. I turn to see John. Before I have time to react, John has already shaken Alex’s hand. “What’s up man.”

John was in a local band called The Maine, he knew most everyone in the scene. I shouldn’t have been surprised.

Alex is suddenly the one who’s flushed. “Oh man, this is weird, I was looking for Mike’s apartment.”

“Yeah dude, it’s a floor up.” They share a chuckle. “Hey, have you met my fiancé, Olivia?”

I lock eyes with him and offer my hand, “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Yeah...” we shake hands. “I’ve heard so much about you...” he uncomfortably laughs.

“See I do talk about you, babe” John kisses my forehead, “Alex’s band is opening up for us Saturday.” I nod at his explanation.

“Anyway, sorry to bother you all. I’ll see you this weekend, John.” He waves as he walks away.

***

John runs his hand up my bare side.

I will always love him, but he will never understand me.