I Can Change Your Life

I had to admit that I was rather nervous about sitting down to watch the interview of myself. I had no idea what to expect. Sure, I knew what I had said in the interview, but I had no idea what I looked like during the interview and I had no idea how they were going to portray the information I had given.

After getting ready for the day, I checked my phone to find two text messages from Vic, which were just emojis, one missed call from Mike, and nothing from Tony Perry. I sat down with a bag of chips and glass of water, ready to see my own life exposed on television, but I couldn’t bring myself to watch it. Not yet.

I picked up my phone and called Vic, the only person I could think of to call and help me confront the anxiety I was suddenly feeling.

“Hello?” Vic answered, his voice cheery.

“Vic,” I breathed out. “Did you watch the interview last night?”

“Yes, I did,” he answered.

I closed my eyes. “Should I be afraid? I’m about to watch my recording of it, and I’m on the brink of an anxiety attack.”

Vic chuckled. “It’s not like it’s going to be anything new to you. It’s your life, you already know everything they’re going to say. And just to make you feel better, the interview was nice and it really portrayed everything in a positive light. Some points were pretty emotional, but I think it’s important that you watch it.”

“Yeah, I know that I do end up breaking down in tears at some point while talking about Marky,” I sighed.

“Yeah, you do, but I wasn’t only talking about that,” Vic said, his voice gentle. “Just watch it, Meedie. It needs to be done.”

I nodded. “Yeah, you’re right. Thank you, Vic.”

Vic was right. I had nothing to worry about – it was my own life after all. The content of the interview shouldn’t scare me, I was more afraid of how they were going to present it. The real story of Marky’s death was going to be a big deal to all of the fans of Meadows and surely they would expand on it and add some sort of dedication or memorial montage. I was afraid of what emotions might come over me, but I knew that the part that was going to hurt me the most was going to be when I talked about Tony.

I decided it was time to bite the bullet and get it over with.

-

The interview ended and the screen froze on an image of Marky that was in the final seconds of the interview. He was so happy, his hair matted with sweat as his right arm pointed his guitar out to the crowd while his left arm was stretched out toward me. I was standing by his side, my mouth wide open and my eyes squinted shut as I sang, and my right arm was stretched toward him, our fingertips only centimeters away from each other. Marky and I didn’t even know that we were reaching out to each other until we saw the pictures on Adam Elmakias’s blog the next day. We were each enveloped in the music, in the fans, and in the moment, but we were still reaching toward each other because deep down we both knew that even after a lifetime of suffering, we still had each other and our music.

I don’t know how much time passed that I sat just staring at the frozen image on my screen. Eventually my satellite receiver shut off due to inactivity and the screen was then black. I pointed the remote at the television screen and turned the power off, the room falling dark. The only source of light was from the window beside the front door.

In that moment, I wanted nothing more than to see Tony Perry walk through that front door. Listening to myself – my in-love self – talk about Tony was what made it difficult for me to get through the entire interview. The information about Marky definitely was hard to hear, but after having an encounter with Marky’s bedroom, and being surrounded by his memories, I had become numb to the topic of Marky’s death. Coping with his absence was a different story, though.

I picked up my phone and scrolled through my contacts until I found that name that still had the power over my nerves. Tony Perry, with a small turtle emoji beside his name – his contact photo being a large, goofy grin that I had snapped while we were snuggled up in his bunk, his sex-hair obvious and his happiness emanating. The picture made my heart hurt, and I made a mental note telling myself that if I wanted to fully end things with Tony Perry, I could not look at that picture any longer and be reminded of our most intimate memories.

As soon as the phone started to ring, Tony was already answering. I couldn’t even recall hearing him say anything to answer the phone because I was speaking the second the ring was interrupted.

“Can you come over?”

“I’ll be there in ten.”

Tony arrived a lot sooner than he said, and I was thankful for that. I was half expecting him to tell me that he was already waiting in the parking lot. He knew that I was going to call after the interview. There was no way that I could have ignored that request, especially after the things we had said in the interview. The one thing we had never had the chance to say to each other in person before everything ended.

Tony walked right in, utilizing the spare key that he had put away the night before. He didn’t need to ask me if I had finished the interview, he already knew. He could hear it in my voice.

He waltzed in like he wanted to grab me by the back of my neck and kiss me, but he came to an abrupt stop right before me, our toes nearly touching and our mouths already watering with desire.

“Did you mean everything you said?” I asked. In the interview, there was a small segment that they had inserted where Abby had caught up with Tony and asked him questions about Marky, and then about our relationship. I wasn’t expecting to see the guest interviews, and although Mike, Vic, and Jaime were all on there, too, Tony’s part caught me off guard the most. “In the interview, did you mean it?” I asked again.

“I meant every word,” Tony said, his eyes unwavering. “Still do.”

The tension was taking up the air in the room. The desire was working its way out of my pores - my body was oozing with want. “If we do this, there’s no going back.”

“I know,” he agreed in a breath.

“It doesn’t change anything. My decision about us still stands.” I wasn’t too sure if I agreed with my own words, but I needed to say them. I couldn’t fall back now. I needed to keep moving forward. But tonight I made an exception.

Tony slowly approached me and instead of grabbing onto my neck and kissing me, or pulling my hair from behind to tilt my head, he gently took my hands in his and began to lead me toward my bedroom. We walked down the hallway, Marky’s door not even earning a second glance from me. All I saw was Tony and the way he lead me down the hallway, toward where the sun was shining through my blinds, toward where everything was brighter. He turned around to look at me, the light shining so brightly from behind him that I could only see the silhouette of his head and a glimpse of his smile.

He carefully removed my shirt once we entered my bedroom – his fingers barely grazing my stomach. He removed his own shirt as I began to remove my pants, each of us taking our time to enjoy the longing in our hearts and the pull in our stomachs. As soon as we were rid of our clothes, Tony carefully laid me down on the bed, his lips hovering, not daring to touch until I was comfortable on the bed.

Tony nudged his chin lightly against mine and I leaned forward a bit, my lips waiting for his. He gently licked his lips before making contact and it was as if I had been waiting for that moment my entire life. I had never felt so full and complete. I had always known that Tony Perry was the only thing to make me feel like that, especially after Marky’s death. Tony’s hands trailed up my neck until he gently grabbed it, not being rough, not being kinky, just holding me in place so that he could kiss me with all of the passion and love he had in him.

Love. That’s what this was. That’s what we were doing. It wasn’t rough, it wasn’t fast, it was right. With every motion and every sensation, my mind was breaking with confusion. Tony was my everything. Tony was my love. I was in love.

Time went by slowly in the moments we spent in my bed together, but after hours had passed, and our bodies were slick with the passion our bodies had perspired, it seemed as though everything had gone by too quickly. It was all over now.

Tony lifted himself up from where he was laying on the bed. I turned to my side, staring at the wall as Tony sat up behind me. I closed my eyes, the tears daring to fall as the reality of what was happening hit me. Tony Perry was getting up, gathering his things, and I was going to have to watch him walk out my life for good.

I reached my right arm behind me quickly, grabbing onto Tony’s bicep before he could lift himself off of the bed completely. “Stay until I fall asleep. Please. I can’t…I can’t watch…”

Tony didn’t question me, instead he let out a breath as he turned over, pushing his body tightly against my own. Our skin sticking, the smell of our sweat mingling to make the sweet scent that I had grown to desire. He wrapped his arms around my naked body, with his own pushed so closely against me that we felt like one single being. We fit perfectly. We always had. And we always would.

I tried to convince myself that I was meant to be with Tony and that leaving him was a mistake, I tried so hard to hold onto the moment with Tony’s bare arms wrapped around me, keeping me safe and in love and forever understood. But as I drifted off to sleep, I looked up to my nightstand, where Marky’s tattered journal met my gaze and impaled my thoughts.

As I dreamed, I imagined the words of the pages becoming large enough to fill my bedroom. The more I read, the more the words appeared and filled the room. I read so much that I was trapped between the words “stop” and “tragedy,” but I kept reading. I kept reading so much that the oxygen was low and I couldn’t breathe. My mind started failing me, and soon I was saying the words but not understanding a single one. I was swallowed by the pages of the journal, the ink of the pages was looking down at me in the journal, and I was trapped within the book, walking on empty, torn pages that lead to nothing.

When I awoke, I was met with Marky’s journal staring at me, once again. But this time, there was no Tony Perry wrapped around me, making me feel safe and understood. There was no light in the room, it was dark except for the light of my alarm clock that illuminated the top of my nightstand.

The journal wasn’t alone, though. On top of the journal sat a small, silver key. The spare key.

The journal wasn’t alone, but I was. I was left alone; I had brought myself to my own demise. I had tortured myself with the toxicity of Tony Perry one last time before forcing it away from me, leaving me empty and poisoned for the rest of my lonely life. I sat up, grabbing a tshirt from the floor and pulling it over my head before turning the light on. It’s not like it mattered though, nobody was around to see me. Just the words of the journal.

I slid the spare key off of the journal and slipped it into the drawer of my nightstand. I lifted the journal from the surface, and brought it over to my lap. I flipped open the page, and dove into the world that I knew nothing about, but had access to through the ink on the pages.

August 23, 2008

Today was the first day that Meedie suspected that something was wrong with me. It was the first day I came home with the very thing that had consumed me resting in my back pocket. It was the first day I was going to feed to urge after my high was gone. It was going to be the first day I did it alone.

I always went to his house to get my fix – I think that’s why he referred me to the line in the first place. So I would keep coming over. Such a piece of shit man, but still someone I couldn’t avoid. He had become a part of me. There was no escaping him now. Especially not now…

Hours have passed and I didn’t even realize that I left the journal open on my nightstand. What have I been doing for the past four hours? We had band practice. We rehearsed our set list for an upcoming tour. I ate a nice dinner with Meedie and Mike. Mike always teases Meedie about her looks and how he would be willing to turn her straight. Mike’s a funny guy.

Meedie really is beautiful. I don’t just say that because she is my sister – she’s the most beautiful person I have ever known. Even with her stubborn attitude and overbearing need to make sure I’m okay. She’s beautiful. I can’t corrupt the beautiful world she walks on. I’m nothing but darkness in her world of light.

And here I go, I set up the powder. I cut the lines. I roll the page. Is it ironic that I tore a page from the back of this very journal so I could get a clear path from the table to my nose? I roll the page so tightly that I can make the moment last. The moment that the powder burns through my sinus passage. The burn that I know should make me want to stop, but I only want more. I burn again. And again. I burn until my nose feels like it’s bleeding. And it does, but only enough to taint the rolled piece of paper. The paper goes in the trash. The mess is cleaned. And I am free.

Meedie went to her girlfriend’s house. She probably won’t be home tonight.

I am left alone; I had brought myself to my own demise. I had tortured myself with the toxicity of blow. I am cleaning up my mess and shoving my baggie into my backpack that usually sits in my closet so nobody will find my secret. It’s not like it matters though, nobody is around to see me. Just the words of this very journal.

Till death do me part, Marky.

Notes

It's been a long while since I have updated, but I here to present you with the final chapter of this story. That's right, this is the last chapter. There will be two epilogue installments coming soon, and with the last installment the sequel will be announced and available for you to subscribe to.

It's been a long ride, and I know I have probably lost a lot of my readers and subscribers because of how badly I have come to neglect my stories, but I am really pleased with this chapter. I can't wait for the sequel, it's going to be very different and it's going to push my limits as a writer to a whole new level. I'm ready for the challenge.

As I mentioned in my last chapter's notes, I have started a new job. I've been there for two months now and it's been a difficult adjustment for me. My sleeping schedule is all out of whack because I have been working a lot of closing shifts. In case anybody was wondering, I work at Barnes & Noble, a large bookstore. I touch thousands of books every day and it has really brought me back to roots of passion for writing and reading. I have been reading nonstop and that has brought me back to my writing. Now that it is summer vacation, and my other job has ended for the summer (I am also a tutor for all grade levels at the high school I graduated from), I will have more time to write. I am so excited to get started on this sequel and to continue writing my other stories. Please don't give up on me! I love you all so much and appreciate all of the time you have spent reading and commenting on my stories.

What do you guys think about Meedie's decision to let Tony leave her life? What do you think the sequel holds in store for Meedie's new band? And what about Marky's journal? What do you guys think is going to happen with that?

Please comment and continue to read the sequel. I appreciate your feedback and love you all so much!

I can't believe this is the last chapter. It's so strange. But it really helps to know that this isn't the end of Meedie, Tony, or Marky.

Thank you for your feedback! Make sure you hang out for the epilogue and sequel!