This Life ? (J.C)

[-7-]

"Do you really have a boyfriend?" The question threw her off—but just about anything was a good distraction from the loud cries still coming from the bathroom.

"Yeah."

"Does he know you tried to kill yourself?"

Joy swallowed hard; she was beginning to feel as if the room was spinning. The only thing that seemed to stop the walls moving was Julian's hand in hers—keeping her in reality.

"Yeah." She said.

"How'd you get through it?"

She tried pulling her hand out of Julian's, but the gesture only made him squeeze tighter. She sighed; he wasn't dropping this. "I don't know. I guess I just... keep myself busy. Occupied. That's why I took this job, the goal is to be a road manager and then eventually a tour manager. I wanna see the world."

"You think that's my problem? I'm just... unoccupied?" She wasn't sure if Julian was talking to himself—until his eyes wavered to hers. "When I was writing and recording... I didn't wanna do it. But now... I'm not so sure."

Joy lied still, too afraid to move. Julian was talking about killing himself.

"Nothing makes you wanna live more than almost dying." She admitted.

"You almost died?" Julian's head snapped in Joy's direction—his eyes wide with lips parted.

"Yeah, I knew I fucked up as soon as I did it. I had to have a blood transfusion." She forced a laugh. "But then when I woke up in the hospital... the shame of it made me wanna die all over again." She remembered the cries and questions—that look in her mother's eyes.

"I'm too much of a pussy, I guess. I think about my mom and stuff. She'd... she'd be devastated, somehow think it was her fault."

"Do... do you feel that way now?" Joy was nearly too afraid to ask—why was Julian talking about this? It was a far cry from his usual topics; sex, crude comments and inappropriate gestures.

"Alcohol helps. Drugs help... Pussy helps." He looked over, flashing Joy a devilish grin.

It was a serious conversation, but Julian couldn't maintain seriousness for too long. She smiled; something about his face made her do that a lot. "So that's why you're an assoholic?" She chuckled. "You're just masking your depression?"

"I don't know, that why you're a ball breaker?"

She rolled her eyes playfully. "I'm a ball breaker because I have to be. If you guys would just listen to me-"

"Well, maybe if you'd give us some slack..." His smile slowly faded as he looked into Joy's eyes. "Can I see the scar on your leg?"

"You mean legs?"

"Damn, you cut up both?" Julian sat up, looking to Joy in disbelief. "That was kinda dumb." He snickered through his nose, letting go of her hand.

"In hindsight... yeah, it was pretty dumb. Trust me, I regretted it afterwards."

"So can I see?" Jules pressed, sitting near the edge of the bed, looking at Joy over his shoulder. She shook her head; almost so subtle that he didn't notice. "Why not? I mean, I've technically already seen it."

"Exactly, why you wanna see it again?" She smiled drunkenly, sitting up on her elbows. The way she had moved caused the shoulder of her sweater to fall further down her arm, exposing the top of her bra and the dip of her collarbone. She was too buzzed to notice—but Julian had.