little talks // open

[fixx]

Most people assume that once you get yourself a record deal your life is set and money is no longer a problem. This is completely inaccurate. In fact Mel hasn’t had this little money in a long time. She doesn’t have the freedom to find gigs on her own and make money that way or through bartending like she did back in Nashville. She had also cut herself off from the money of her fathers’ because she didn’t want their help in all of this, they also probably didn’t really want to help her either judging by the fact they talked maybe twice on the phone in the past few months. No instead until her music got some recognition and she got some good gigs she was living in a crummy apartment with what could only be described as character.

It was small and it was on the edge of the not-so-great part of town, which Mel’s manager was in no way a fan of, but it was an easy twenty minute walk from the studio, easy access to a grocery store, and was also next to a small convenience store which made it easy if she was in need of something. And Melanie’s favorite part, it was above a laundry mat. The apartments didn’t have their own washer and dryer and it made it convenient that she just had to walk down the stairs to do her wash. Mel always waited till early morning to do her wash when there was never anyone there, about five-thirty a.m. she’d start and be finished no later than six-thirty. Mel used this time to her advantage, she didn’t like the idea of not doing anything for a whole hour, so instead she’d bring her guitar down and work on writing her music. Like she was this morning.

“I tried to found you on the bottom of a bottle
Laying down on a bedroom floor
My loneliness was a rattle in the windows
You said you don't want me anymore
And you left me...”

[austin]

i'm sleeping my way out of this one

with anyone who will lie down

"get your shit and get out austin!"

the chick austin had been sleeping with for the past week screamed at him, throwing one of his shirts at him. he sighed and kept plucking his guitar, grimacing when his shirt hit him in the face. he stood up, setting his guitar down.

"crazy fucking bitch! watch the guitar damnit!"

she reached for what was closest to her, her flat iron, and chucked it at him. he ducked but the end of the cord hit his cheek and immediately warmth flowed from the fresh cut on his cheek and rolled down, dripping. he blinked and glared at the bitch, starting to grab the little clothes he had and shove them in a bag. he was getting blood on a lot of them, and he threw the bag down when he was done, glaring at her again.

"at least give me that fucking bag of quarters to wash my damn clothes, you fucking cut me!"

he ducked as the brown paper bag flew over his head and hit the wall, knocking a lamp over. she continued screaming at him, calling him a waste of space, a bum, a loser. he silently began agreeing with her, picking up the bag of quarters and his bag and guitar and made his way out of her apartment before she threw something else out him.

he sighed. he had been sleeping with so many people lately, he wasn't completely sure what that psycho bitch's name is. was it ashlee? amber? something with an a. he jogged down the stairs to the laundry mat, picking out a dirty black shirt and pressing it to his cheek. he went straight to the bathroom, his head down as he closed the door and locked it. when he looked in the mirror, he didn't recognize himself.

his eyes were hollow, the light in them was gone. there were purple shadows under them. his complexion was pale. he was so skinny. he pulled the shirt from his face, wincing when it pulled a bit. the cut wasn't too terribly bad, it was just bleeding like it was because, well, cuts on the face tended to bleed a lot. he sighed and cleaned up a little, buttoning up his red flannel shirt partially. his hair was very shaggy. all he needed was a beard, and he'd be the spitting image of a hobo. he was nearly there. he lost his apartment two weeks ago, and he's been sleeping around ever since. he sighed again, digging for his pills, popping way more than the recommended dose into his mouth and swallowing. he shoved them back into his bag and stared into the mirror until his head started to buzz and slow down.

he made his way out of the bathroom, stumbling over to a washer and started shoving his clothes into it when he noticed someone else was in the room. he avoided looking their way. he hated the way people looked at him. he took out his pills again, opening them. he was living on ativan. or two or three or like the whole bottle, whatever. he was stopping a heartache and starting a hole in his stomach. he didn't know which is really worse anyway.

when all of his clothes were successfully put in the washer and there was a little soap in there, he shut the lid and started loading quarters into the slot, and that's when he heard her.

he stopped moving, listening, but not looking to confirm. he didn't need to, because he'd know that voice anywhere. he dropped his bag and turned around and walked straight over to her, staring in disbelief. he never thought he would see her again.

"melanie?"

his voice was hesitant. he wasn't sure what to do. his fathers were upset with her, and he was upset with her, but he's different now. things are different now. he wasn't the spoiled boy she used to know. he was a homeless nervous wreck. and even though he wouldn't admit it out loud, he needed his sister now more than ever.

[fixx]

Melanie had heard some distant yelling from above but didn’t care enough to stop what she was doing. Instead she took a brief break to switch her laundry. This only took a few minutes and as she returned to her guitar she heard someone making their way down the stars. She only sighed and went back to her work not caring enough to see who it was. She had only moved in the other day and only met about three of the other people living in the building. Mel grabbed her notebook and wrote down the next few lines. Looking up briefly as the person who can storming down threw their clothes into the wash then picked up her guitar and started playing the next few lines.

“Standing on a corner crying,
Feeling like a fool for trying
I don't even remember
Why I'm wasting all these tears on you
I wish I could erase all memory
Cause you didn't give a damn about m--”

‘melanie?’ Someone spoke in a familiar tone stopping Mel dead in her tracks. After a moment she looked up, almost sheepishly. She knew that voice, she hadn’t heard it in a long time but it was a voice she could never forget. His back was to her and honestly if he hadn’t spoken she probably never would have recognized him. He was so skinny and he didn’t look at all like the way he did the last time she had seen him and that was only from behind. Last she had heard he was doing well, but that was months ago, before everything had blown up in her face.

Melanie couldn’t tell how exactly he felt about seeing her, or well hearing her anyway. His tone was one of surprise but she could tell if it was a happy surprise or well not. Melanie stood up placing her guitar on the chair she had been sitting on. Honestly though, he wasn’t the only one that looked different. Last time he had seen Mel she had short hair and well had more of a rock look instead of this flowy country/pop vibe. She was a little scared for him to see the new, and in her mind improved her. “Hi Austin.” She said biting her lip not really sure what to say. “I did call you know, you and our fathers. I thought that even though I couldn’t leave a message on your phone for whatever reason they would have told you but then again…” She trailed off thinking how her fathers probably hoped he had forgotten about her almost as much as they had. That was another advantage to staying on this side of town she didn’t think she would have one of these awkward encounters with her family. Mel was still trying to figure out why Austin sounded so surprised to hear her. Austin still hadn’t turned around and it started to worry Melanie. “I miss you ya know, every day and you have no idea how many times I wanted to just hop on a plane and come home but….” She trailed off again. “I didn't want anything to end up the way it did and I know I should have just been honest with you in the first place but then I dug myself in too deep and next thing I knew…I was drowning in it….” She said walking up behind him and tentatively putting a hand on his shoulder, unsure of how he would react.