Alice was waking up in a stranger man's bed.
She remembered which dive bar she'd ended up in last night, but then the booze came, and some kind of pill—the one that red-haired girl had given her last time—and it knocked her out completely.
She slipped out of bed in silence, put her clothes back on, and went looking for the front door.
When she finally found it in the dark, a small child appeared in the hallway beside her, just staring at her with a torn stuffed bear in his hands.
The kid spoke.
— Mom?
Alice turned around. The child ran to her and hugged her leg. In the half-light, he'd mistaken her for his mother.
Alice didn't know what to do, but she didn't have the heart to push him away. Instead, she gently stroked the top of his head.
— You came back… you came ba—
Alice didn't want to say it, but she had to. She didn't want to give him false hope.
— No… I'm not your mom. I'm sorry…
— Tomy! Get over here! — a slightly older girl called from the end of the hallway. — Leave the lady alone.
They had to tell the little boy one more time before he finally let Alice go, then he went back to his sister.
The scene hit Alice in a familiar place. Lucy had missed their mother too, once. Alice understood that kind of need.
— Turn the top lock. — the girl said.
Alice did. The door clicked open.
— Thanks.
And then she left—hurrying to the elevator, then out of the building.
***
Alice went home, but she didn't plan to stay long.
She looked at herself in the bathroom mirror and didn't like what she saw. Exhaustion and last night's mess were written all over her face.
She stepped into the shower and let the water run, massaging her scalp as if she could knead the fog out of her skull.
When she was done, she changed, drank a cup of coffee, then called a taxi and went straight to the hospital.
That was Alice's life lately: blurry, drunken nights; chaotic mornings; and then most of her day spent beside Lucy's bed.
The taxi dropped her off. She rushed inside and was in her sister's room in minutes.
Lucy looked awful. Her cheeks were hollow, her skin paper-white, and her beautiful hair had started falling out.
It was hard for Alice to see her like that. Every time she reached the doorway, she faltered—like invisible heavy hands were trying to pull her back and cover her eyes. But she always walked in anyway, because Lucy needed her.
Alice sank into the chair beside the bed. Lucy was eating breakfast—well, as much as she could. Stubborn as always, she didn't want anyone feeding her. She did it herself, slowly.
— You look like shit. — Lucy said.
— Oh, so we're back to commenting on my appearance, my princess?
— Because lately you always look like shit. Pot, meet kettle.
— How are you feeling?
— Well… they gave me something, so it doesn't hurt as much.
Lucy lifted a spoonful of oatmeal to her mouth. Some stayed on her lip. Alice wiped it away with a tissue.
— There. Clean.
Lucy's expression darkened.
— It's hard… it's hard to get up and pee. And it's hard to eat. Everything is so hard now…
— It'll get easier with time. I promise.
— It won't. I'm not stupid. I know what's going to happen… In the beginning it was hard too, but for a while now it's been easier. I accepted it.
Alice's hand trembled. She swallowed hard and tried to hold back her tears, covering her eyes.
Lucy saw how badly her sister was hurting and took Alice's hand, squeezing as hard as she could—though she didn't have much strength left.
They looked at each other, and then Alice broke. She started crying, unable to keep the pain down anymore.
Lucy tried to comfort her, stroking her forearm.
— Don't worry. It'll be fine…
— Hey. You're not supposed to be the one comforting me…
Lucy smiled.
— I don't know what you're talking about. I've been stuffing myself with oatmeal this whole time.
Alice laughed through tears.
— Yeah, and I wasn't crying, a huge damn bug just flew into my eye.
— Oh, it's been flying around for a while. It said it would wait until you showed up. It wanted to fall asleep on your eyelid.
They laughed together—Lucy's laughter was weak, but it still had that same charm it always did.
Alice looked at her sister, smiling, and gently smoothed the hair at the top of her head.
— I love you, my princess…
***
Alice stayed at the hospital for a long time, but eventually her friends arrived—they needed to talk to her about a few things.
They all greeted little Lucy and brought flowers, a stuffed toy, and chocolate.
Cornel and Pinky stayed in the room with Lucy to chat with her, while Justin and Alice stepped out into the hallway.
— How are you? And please, be honest.
— Like shit. Is that what you wanted to hear?
— No. Listen, we can cancel this weekend's show if you want. We don't have to do it.
Alice thought for a moment, but the answer formed quickly.
— No… We need the money. Lucy sleeps at night anyway—she needs rest. I'm not ditching you.
— I know this is a horrible time for you and… I don't even know what it's like to go through this, but we're here. You can lean on us, okay? Getting blackout drunk every night isn't the answer.
— Please don't lecture me right now. This will be over soon. She doesn't have much time left… Let me spend my nights doing something that distracts me, even a little. When it's over, I'll stop.
Justin sighed.
— Okay… okay. I get it. But I've got good news too. Star Radio wants an interview. They're interested in the album. "Burn With Me!" is officially on the chart, and it might even climb to the top if we really show up at these shows.
— That sounds good.
— The interview is next week. Is that okay? You'll be fine?
— Of course. I'm the singer, aren't I? It would be pretty weird without my voice.
— I mean, maybe I could imitate you. Or Pinky—she's a bit more feminine.
Alice laughed.
— Yeah, she'd pull it off better… By the way, what's going on with them? Pinky and Ervin—are they… together?
— Oh, those two cooing lovebirds? They're practically always together. I don't know how okay that is, considering he's our boss or whatever.
— Report the forbidden workplace romance to HR.
— And who the hell is HR? You?
— Me? No way. I just make copies and pretend I'm working. Our HR is probably Cornel, so talk to him.
— Cornel? I can't imagine a worse person for that job.
— Yeah… fair. — Alice grinned.
Justin was glad he'd managed to pull even a little life back into Alice—because she really did look terrible.
— Come on. Let's go back to the little princess. We brought some games. We could play for a bit.
— Do you have UNO? She loves it, but only if a lot of people play.
— Oh, Alice… — Justin held up the UNO deck. — I don't go anywhere without it.
***
Alice felt a little better for a moment, but two days later she slipped again.
In her nightmares now, it wasn't just the burning car wreck—Lucy was there too. She was lying in a coffin on fire, and that nightmare came back, again and again, every night.
Alice turned it into songs. The dreams, everything she felt—but she kept most of the lyrics to herself, playing those dark little pieces at home on her guitar at most.
It was late at night. She stood on her balcony, watching the city while blowing smoke into the cold air.
The past and the future hung in front of her. Neither looked bright. She wanted to run from both.
She put on her leather jacket and left the apartment, heading back into another blurry, loud night—anything to forget the ache.
This time she chose a different bar, a nearby one she'd never been to. The place was called Thirsty Newt.
She walked in and didn't bother noticing what made it different from the others. She only cared about the counter, the alcohol, and finding someone she could take back to her place.
She sat at the bar and ordered her drinks. Beer. Whiskey. Then she looked around.
The crowd wasn't classy. A lot of washed-up people came here. One of them—a toothless bald guy—grinned at her, but she looked away.
Then a girl stepped out of the bathroom: heavy black boots, long blue hair, tattoos everywhere. And she actually looked… kind of appealing.
Alice didn't waste time. She winked, and the girl took it as an invitation and slid onto the stool beside her.
The girl recognized her—that was part of why she'd come over.
— Hey, you're Alice, right? I love your song.
— Oh, thanks. What's your name? What brings you here?
The girl started talking excitedly—about the band, about herself—but Alice barely listened. She only picked out the important parts and answered those.
She hadn't come here to make friends or really get to know anyone. She just wanted to forget. To run.
It didn't take much. The girl was easy to charm, and soon they were back at Alice's place, tangled in her pillows.
Alice felt the girl's wet lips, the warmth of her bare body, her breath at her neck—and for a while it made everything disappear.
The haze, the booze, the drugs, the rush—her mind turned to static. But for the first time in a long time, she didn't have a nightmare, because she didn't dream at all.
***
The next morning Alice felt awful.
First she threw up in the sink. Then she nearly knocked over half the kitchen trying to make coffee.
Whatever she'd taken hadn't cleared her system, and that was a problem, because she had to go see Lucy.
The girl she'd brought home was gone when Alice woke up, which was one less headache. She'd left her number on a note, but Alice threw it out immediately.
So she went anyway—half sedated—because she refused to abandon Lucy.
She took a taxi to the hospital, barely able to get out of the seat when they arrived.
She knew this was a terrible idea. But no matter how much coffee she drank, how much water, even forcing herself to eat breakfast—which she almost never did—the fog wouldn't lift.
She told herself it would be fine. She'd just move a little slower than usual.
She walked into the hospital, down the corridors, opened Lucy's room and found her father sitting there on a chair beside Lucy's bed.
They looked at each other. Then Alice stepped in and sat on the other side of the bed.
— What the hell is he doing here? — she snapped.
— Dad came to visit… — Lucy said quietly.
— Oh, what a surprise. — Alice turned to him. — I'm amazed you managed to show up.
— I know I didn't come enough… I'm sorry.
— You're sorry? Your daughter is dying, you pathetic piece of— — Alice hissed. — Just get out. She doesn't need you.
— Alice… please…
Alice stood up. She was so fogged out, so twisted up, she looked like she might hit him.
Lucy stopped her.
— Stop it, Alice! — she shouted.
Alice turned to her sister. Lucy was glaring at her, angry.
— We don't need him! This unreliable drunk doesn't deserve to be called your father!
— Between the two of you, only one person is drunk right now… and it's you.
The realization hit Alice like a slap: this time, it really was her. She still tried to fight it.
— This is his fault! Because of him I'm like this… Do you know what he did that night Mom died? Nothing! He let her burn to death and left me there too—he just ran away like a coward!
— Go, Alice. — Lucy's voice shook. — I don't want to see you like this...
— But… but… he… — Alice pointed at their father. He looked back at her, sad, tears spilling down his face.
— I said go! — Lucy shouted. — Please. Just go.
Alice left the room, feeling sick with shame over the way she'd acted.
On the way out she spotted a cart an orderly had been pushing down the hall.
She saw all kinds of medication on it, stole a handful, and swallowed a few right there—without even reading what they were.
***
The next day, in a relatively sober state, Alice apologized to Lucy.
Lucy couldn't stay mad at her sister. But Alice was furious with herself.
Getting ready for the evening's concert was hard. Alice wasn't okay. She was tired—body and soul.
The other band's singer noticed her practicing on her guitar and greeted her.
He was a long-haired man in a leather jacket, with some kind of patterned tattoo on his face.
Alice nodded back, but she didn't feel like chatting, so she focused on her guitar.
— Not in the mood, huh? I get it. I get anxious before shows too.
— Yeah.
— Listen, you want a little help? — he held up a small bag of pills. — These work for me.
Alice looked at the colorful tablets, then turned back to her guitar.
— I can't knock myself out before a show.
— They don't knock you out. Trust me. I take one before every gig. Just mild brain-boosters—caffeine and stuff. Look. — he popped a pill, swallowed, then stuck out his tongue to show it was gone. — See? We're on soon, so I'll need it too. I'll leave the bag with you, in case you change your mind.
He went back to his band. Alice kept practicing.
And eventually… she took the bag and pocketed it.
Before they went on, Alice told Ervin to watch the phone closely—because the hospital could call at any moment.
Ervin promised he'd stay right by it.
When the other band finished, it was their turn.
As the singer walked off stage, he winked at Alice—who now had only an empty bag in her pocket, because in the end she'd taken the pill.
It helped. It shifted her mood, gave her a huge jolt, enough to get through the concert at full power.
The crowd went crazy. They loved Alice's voice, her movement, the way she worked them, and they were fired up for the rest of the band too.
They ended the show with success again—two encore songs, because the audience demanded it.
The drug held Alice up for a while, but the second the performance ended, she felt the effect draining out of her fast.
The other band's singer congratulated them, then pulled Alice aside a little.
— So? How was it?
— Pretty good. You got more?
He opened his palm. A tiny red tablet lay there.
— This one's for after shows. It hits way harder.
Alice didn't hesitate. She took it and swallowed.
Justin saw it and hurried over, alarmed.
— Alice, I really don't think you should—
— Dude, why are you freaking out? — the singer said, clearly already buzzed. — We're just having fun. Want one too?
Justin ignored him. Only Alice mattered.
— Listen. I'm not drinking tonight, and I'm taking you home. Okay?
— Daddy's gonna take his little girl home? — the singer mocked with a grin. — She can take care of herself.
Justin's jaw tightened. Alice noticed, so she grabbed his arm and pulled him away.
They sat down with the others at the back of the venue. Alice handed Justin a beer.
Justin tried to refuse.
— I said I'm not drinking. I'm taking you home.
— It's just a beer. It'll calm you down so you don't go punch that idiot.
Justin finally took it and drank.
— Okay… yeah, I needed that. Now tell me what the hell you're doing.
— Relaxing.
Alice started feeling the tablet. Everything got brighter. Justin's words became harder to understand, like he was talking from under a blanket.
The rest of the night blurred into nothing.
***
The next morning Alice woke to her alarm clock.
She felt worse than she ever had. She ran to the bathroom and vomited immediately.
She didn't have time to look at the man sleeping beside her—and honestly, it didn't matter who she'd brought home.
She'd thrown up on herself, so she climbed into the shower to wash it off, along with the rest of last night's filth.
She noticed her right fist was scraped raw and sore. Maybe she'd hit someone. She didn't remember.
After the shower, she got dressed, made coffee, and drank it slowly.
Then she thought she should check who was in her bed. She hoped it was Justin.
She cracked the bedroom door and peeked in.
It wasn't Justin, It was the singer from the other band.
Shame flooded her. She couldn't believe she'd slept with someone like that—she must've been completely wrecked to sink that low.
Then someone knocked at the front door.
Alice didn't want to answer, but the knocking wouldn't stop.
It went on for over a minute, nonstop—like an invisible woodpecker was drilling into her skull. It made her furious, so she opened the door.
Her father stood there.
Alice's anger flared instantly.
— Who the fuck gave you my address?! — she snapped.
— One of your friends…
— Then forget this address.
She was about to slam the door, but her father stopped her.
— This is important. — he said, his voice heavy. — I have to tell you.
— Then spit it out and get lost.
— Your sister… your sister… — his eyes filled with tears. — Lucy died… I'm sorry…
Alice closed the door gently, leaned her back against it, and slid down to the floor.
Sitting there, she just stared ahead at first, like her brain couldn't even process what had just been said. Her eyes locked on a dark corner.
A minute passed. Maybe two.
Then the tears came.
Pain clawed at her heart and mind. Her chest turned heavy, and an invisible knot grew in her throat.
She wanted to scream. To break things. To burn everything around her.
But she didn't do any of it.
She just sat there in her apartment, back against the door, and sobbed.