Pick Me Up

*Marley’s POV*
I woke up softly, but with a pounding bitch of a headache that reminded me that I definitely had way too much to drink the night before again. As I went to stretch and find my phone, I learned that my hand was stuck. I looked over to my right slowly and found a man holding my hand tight as he slept in what seemed to be the world’s most uncomfortable chair. It was American’s hand… Jaime! That was his name. But why?

I laid there for a while trying to figure out how the hell my hand became intertwined within his. But unfortunately, Marley does not handle her alcohol well and nights before often become a blurry, messed up collage of fractured memories. Instead of thinking of why he is there, I began to think of how I could shimmy myself free without waking him. I could not bear to see him right now. I couldn’t even bear the thought of us possibly getting it on last night. I threw my free hand to my forehead, telling myself ‘Marley, you’re an absolute fuck up’.

I slowly slid my hand free, surprisingly with lack of resistance from Jaime. I stepped quietly out of my bed and ran into my bathroom where I met my unholy appearance in the mirror. My eyes were a mess of smudged black eyeliner and smokey purple eyeshadow and my lips were still heavily coloured by the black cherry lipstick I wore as well, but fairly intact. I also had the sickly taste of stale alcohol and vomit in my mouth, leading me to believe that I vomited last night, and more than likely in front of the people who I was hanging out with last night. “Marely, you’re a fucking idiot” I told myself as I washed the taste out.

I wiped off as much of last night’s makeup off as I could, tied my messy blue hair back into a messy bun and found my black jacket, attempting to make myself look somewhat like a respectable human being again. I rushed outside of my room, collecting my phone on the way past where I learned that the time was barely past 6.30am.

I stumbled down the stairs, still a little drunk from last night where I finally found myself in the reception area. It was still dim, but the morning sunrise light up the room enough that I could see where I was going. I looked towards the elevator when a shard of memory came back to me.

“Its faster and easier to drunkenly stumble up the stairs rather than ride in the elevator and nearly puke from the anti-gravity feeling” I laughed as the guys in tow groaned in disagreement. “I’ve learned that the hard way!”

My hand found its way back to my forehead again, both to caress my headache and mentally punish myself. I could not think of one single reason as to why the fuck I would tell almost strangers about my previous alcohol/elevator experiences? That’s so unlike me to even soberly tell a stranger anything about my life. I am a very introverted and shy person. I rarely speak about myself anyway. The only reasonable conclusion I could come to was that this time, I really had too much to drink. And in order to remember anything from last night, I was going to have to find Riley. He would know what I did. He doesn’t drink and likes to take care of drunk Marley. Well I wouldn’t say ‘likes’ per se, more like he cares enough to take care of me.

I quickly sent Riley a message, “I REALLY NEED TO TALK TO YOU!”
He replied quickly with “you saucy bitch! ;) ” of which he knew it would piss me off. “I’ll meet you at Espresso Warriors in half an hour”.

Espresso warriors is a fantastic coffee place that’s halfway between my hotel and Riley’s apartment. Riley and I always get coffee together after a night out and after work. I would often call or message Riley and ask him to meet me there so I could vent about life in general or find out what I did the night before when I was drinking. Riley was my verbal punching bag, and I loved him for it.

---

“So… did you get it on last night?” Riley asked as he placed my coffee in front of me. He sat down to find my death-looking and disapproving face. He chuckled lightly.

“I don’t think so?” I questioned. “When I woke up, he was sitting in the wooden chair beside my bed and was holding my hand. I don’t understand” I burst out to Riley. My semi intoxicated self began to think of every single scenario on the planet to which caused me to emotionally and psychologically spiral. A very regular happening for me.

“Wait, he was asleep in that dingy wooden chair? How the hell could someone sleep in that? Even you couldn’t pass out properly in that thing” Riley laughed. “But I don’t know why he’d be holding your hand”.

“Me either. I don’t understand. No one would ever want to hold my hand, I’m not a likeable person, and you know me too well to know that I would never make a romantic gesture like that, even when under the influence” I said frantically, attempting not to knock over my coffee with my knees hitting the table or my hands flying about as I spoke.

“You may think that, but Marley, I’ve been your best friend for what, five years, which automatically makes me know more about you than you know yourself. You’d hold his hand sober or drunk”.

“What! How could you say that!” I almost yelled in pure shock. “I don’t do human things!” I explained.

Riley smiled at me, “You would if you liked them, of which, I really do believe that you like this American fellow” he paused for a moment.

“But –“

“And I know that you’re going to tell me that you’re not human and you don’t feel things, but things change Mars, you’re becoming human and feeling something again. You’re healing, you’re growing. And in the long time I’ve known you, I’ve never seen you smile like you smiled when you told me about him yesterday at the bar, and I’ve never seen you blush like you did when you spotted him at Rad Bar last night. You eagerly invited him and his friends to your hotel room to continue the party, now that’s something I’ve never seen you do, unless it’s me or Sam. You even called him a friend. You’re starting to become human again Marley”.

Riley’s voice was thickly laced with the most truth and sincerity one could gather. Riley was right in that he knows me better than I know myself, but I was left speechless when he told me how I spoke about Jaime yesterday and how much I did blush when I spotted him last night. Even the fact I picked a total stranger up from the side of the road leads me to believe I may be beginning to feel again.

I sat there, staring into the chocolate covered foam of my cappuccino, letting Riley’s words race around my head. But I couldn’t comprehend the feeling. I knew deep down in my abyss-like heart that I would never be human again or feel anything but anger and depression. The whole ‘you’re healing Marley’ was only temporary and ephemeral.

“I don’t think so. It’s only temporary Riley. I probably won’t see him again anyway. I’m not healing”.

“Well if you think you’re not healing, you’re not gonna get scared when I ask what would happen if you needed to go back to your hotel room to get your gear for tonight’s gig.” He smirked at me.

A lightning bolt struck my heart. I was struck with fear. Riley was right.

Notes