Go Get Drunk


abby_icon.gif melissa_icon.gif

Scene Title Go Get Drunk
Synopsis Melissa calls Abby in a very unusual state. Abby gives some good short-term advice.
Date April 11, 2010

Central Park - And the phone!

He left.

That’s all Melissa can think for a moment. He meant it to be over. For good. He meant to not even give her a chance.

She doesn’t love him though, right? So why does it hurt so much?

She watches him disappear as he flies away, and it’s several minutes after he’s gone before she moves, pulling out her phone. The numbers on the screen blur as the tears she refused to shed fall, and she pauses in the dialing to wipe them away before they freeze on her cheeks. Though she’s not sure why she cares about that at the moment.

New York. Great city. With psychos who want to cut your head open, doctors who nearly kill you accidentally, fires and bullets…And guys who break the heart that you didn’t know could be broken.

She hits send and lifts the phone to her ear to listen to the dial tone as she begins walking, not even really feeling the chill that’s starting to seep into her feet. She leaves behind the box of donuts, the coffee. Even the skates she picked up just for tonight.

It's not that long after sunset, perhaps just half an hour when Abby's phone rings. It should be a sad sound, but it's not. It's just a normal phone with a normal ringtone. When Abby answers it, the first sound she hears is that of the wind. The second? That of soft sniffling and snow crunching underfoot. The caller ID says Melissa, but why would Melissa be sniffling and walking in the snow?

The new phone has yet to be programmed with names and numbers. A salvaging of the previous phones sim card was a blessing and so the phone that was on the bed beside Abby way up on the third floor of Francois's brownstone bleated to life and was eventually answered by Abby. Southern accent made thicker the painkillers that swim lazily through her blood. "May the Lord bless you and keep you, Abigail speaking" She hasn't talked like that since she was back home before New York blew.

"Abby? It's Melissa…" And she sounds…sad. Unbelievably sad. "I didn't know who else to call…I just…God, Abby," she says, voice cracking a little, even as the snow crunching sounds stop.

How can she talk about this right now? She leans against a post and closes her eyes. Why is she so numb? It’s not cold enough for her to be numb already…

"Are you okay? Smoke man come for you Melly? I can try an get Francois to pick you up, take you to a house" Abby doesn't move from her spot on the bed, she's comfortable, just so and won't be tempting fate. "Please tell me he didn't make a run for you, you don't need another scar and I can't heal yet"

"Who's the Smoke…oh. No. I would've preferred that," Melissa says softly. "Already got two scars. No, three. And even if I heal them I'm not sure it'll be enough. I can't change my past, Abby. And I've never wished I could more than I do right now. I wish I could go back to not having an ability. To never being in Moab. I might have a chance to be happy now."

"can't heal all scars Melly" Abby's eyes drift close but she's still awake, the wool between brain and skull present. "What's wrong Mel? I -" Abby takes a moment to try and get her words out proper. "What's wrong Mel? Are you okay? Do you need me to get someone to you, pick you up somewhere?"

"No…I don't want to see anyone right now. He's not even going to give me a chance, Abby. He came to see me when I called. He told me…all about him…" No, even in this state she won't break her promise. "And then he said that it can't work because I can't be normal. Because I can't undo what I've been." There's no need to specify the 'he' here.

Peter. Melissa can hear the silence on the other end of the phone as it all sinks in what she said, a delay in comprehension born completely of chemicals. "Says the man who blew up midtown" Three seconds and then "shit. I shouldn't have said that"

"It's okay," Melissa says wearily. "He told me. Right before he told me that I can never be normal, so he couldn't be with me even though he feels something for me. He said that…He said he feels something, and that's why I can never see him again." There's a pause, and a soft, choked sound. "Abby…I hate this…I'm…I've never felt like this before."

This time tears are left to fall where they will, and she ignores the sting as they freeze.

"Want me to beat him up? I can beat him up mel, I can spike his coffee with eyedrops and make him throw up or.. or.. or.. " What can she do to peter. "I can put tacks in his seat" She could do that. "super glue his sethoscope"

There’s no smile. Not even a twitch of her lips.

It's supposed to make Melissa feel better, she knows this even, but she just sniffles and shakes her head. "Just tell me what I should do, Abby. Right now I want to hit him, to make him feel as bad as I do, but…I still want him. Right now I want him to hold me and tell me it was just a cruel joke or something. And I feel so girly and it makes me pissed at myself."

If he’d just hold her it would be alright. It wouldn’t hurt so much, right? She starts to walk, paying no attention to where she’s going. Right now, it doesn’t matter. She has no home, after all. No home, her dog is with Kendall, and her best friend is doped up somewhere. She looks down. And she’s standing in snow that is up to her waist. Joy.

"Broken hearts hurt" Abigail sympathizes with Melissa over the phone, opening her eye to look off across the plainly decorated room. "It's not like you can stop being Evo" Well, you can but that involves a man name Tyler Case and even that isn't permanent unless your name is Abigail. "Give it a few days, get drunk, get… high? And just.. let it simmer and decide what to do after"

"How can it be a broken heart when I don't love him?" Melissa asks softly. She's never been in love, she doesn't know these things! "And yeah…yeah. Getting drunk…that sounds good. I'll go to Odessa and get drunk." Or at least that's the plan…

"Hearts break over lots of things, not just out of love. Lust. Desire. Want and need. Unaffordable beautiful shoes" Abby opines from cloud five. "As an EMT who is currently not in her proper state of mind, you should go see Odessa and go get drunk. That's what I did with Flint" She was in Peter's position mind you. Not the other way around.

Melissa sighs softly. "Yeah…yeah. I'll do that," she murmurs. "You just get better, Abby. I'll come and see you in a couple days, alright?"

"I should be back in Rivage by then. Francois bound my ribs for me" She murmurs into the phone. "I've been sleeping, chewing pills, sleeping, eating. I'll call when I'm home. I need to see Darren anyways and start… on stuff with getting my car replaced"

"Okay. Give me a call when you're home. Take care Abby," Melissa says in the same sad, tired voice, before she hits disconnect on the phone. Hopefully she'll take care of herself too.

The phone is slipped back into her pocket and Melissa starts forward again, pushing through the snow, ignoring the freezing cold, though she’s shivering from it.

Pills…Abby slipped some pills in her pocket the other day. Anti-depressants. Melissa’s never been one for needing pills, and she’s never been one to be depressed. Mel toys absently with the bottle.

No…Booze is better. It’s not chemical. She’s gotten drunk before, she doesn’t want to lower herself to pills. She’s not that woman. She won’t be that woman.

It takes a while to get to a liquor store on foot, and then she has issues deciding on what to buy. Good old tequila. Guaranteed to get a lightweight like her trashed and then some. She pays for the bottle, ignoring the odd looks the cashier gives her. She looks like hell. Her nose red, tears melting now on her cheeks, eyes puffy and reddened.

Outside she stops and stares at the snow. What if the alcohol doesn’t do it? Her gaze lifts to the sky, as the stars start to come out. There is that fight club she just heard about. If getting drunk doesn’t help, maybe she can give someone else her pain. Maybe it might work.

She opens the bottle and takes a deep drink from it, gasping a little at the sharp burn to a raw throat, and starts walking. Odessa’s place isn’t really that far…

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