Smoked Success

19.

I glare at them, feeling umbrage. I cannot believe this, why would my family hide anything from me? This reminds me of the time they gave me pills for no reason, without telling me I'm intersexual. I grew up with male chromosomes, but I've grown female. Now I take pills, hormone changers, to provide myself with estrogen, since I cannot produce that. Anyways, I cannot believe they're still hiding more stuff from me, I should just pack and spend Christmas alone. 

"I'm leaving, this cannot be exacerbated." I snap, heading to the stairs to prepare myself to leave. 

"Jessica, wait!" I hear Tyler, running and holding my hand. Reminds me of that other day with Christian, which infuriates me. 

"Tyler, it's okay, you don't have to tell me anything," I start, tears running down my eyes, "just please, forget about my existence." This is just doleful and pathetic, I do not belong here, I guess. 

"I need you the most now." He mutters, getting closer to me. I narrow my eyes in confusion, my eyebrows knot, what is going on? "Jessica, you may want to sit down for this." He announces, seeming pensive. It's like he thought of this for so long, I'm not going to kill him, I'm his sister for god's sake.

"What's wrong?" I question him as I sit down. I do not have any ideas of what's going on, but I really hope this isn't going to be so bad. I'm so stupid, of course it is bad, he suspected I'll be too shocked, this is why I should 'sit down'. I never got the sitting down thing, but whatever.

"Jessica, remember when you first came to New York, that party where I couldn't breathe?" He starts, raising his eyebrows. I nod, letting him continue. "Well, it wasn't because of marshmallow, there weren't any by the way. It's because I have this disease, called Interstitial lung disease." 

"Is it horrible?" I ask, not having a clue what that is. I knew some diseases, like leukemia, trisomy-21, monosomy, and some few more. I feel very uneducated right now. 

"Jess, these two gap years, were amazing. But I did horrible stuff, such as drinking and smoking." He confesses, stressing so bad. I didn't do those when I was his age, but I was stupid. I was such a nerd, reading all the time, forgetting what happens around me.

"Tyler, your lung does not function very well, why'd you do what Mom and I do?" I ask him, very disappointed. I was supposed to set a good example for my younger brother, but it just hurt him. 

I wonder what dad thought when he heard of this, specially being thousands of miles away, in London. He must've gotten very worried and regretful. Dad felt guilty for not being here most of my formative years, he had issues with my mom. He wasn't there for Tyler and Christina's birth, so he's trying to be present now. I wonder how he's spending Christmas in Cheshire this year. 

"Yes, but I didn't care at the time. Smoking caused this disease to appear, well it's one of the causes. I'm taking so many drugs, I'm sick of it. I went bald because these drugs impacted my hair, negatively." He continues, this is the saddest version of Tyler I've ever seen. "Well, one other thing. Mom has asked me to go to London, so I can be closer to her if anything happens. I refused, because London's just where I've been all my life. Instead, I applied to UCLA and they've accepted me. I'm going to Los Angeles with you." 

I'm so confused by this. Interstitial lung disease, Los Angeles, being bald, mom, what is going on? Why is life punishing Tyler so bad now? He didn't do shit. Yeah okay, he did irresponsible shit, but we all do, no? I don't know what to do, so I just stand up and go out of the house. Washington's definitely colder than Los Angeles, I need a jacket. I just walk, I'm so shocked. Why are people around me suffering, am I the reason? I'm so sick of this. I notice a bar, oh yeah a drink is what I need now. Glad I'm in age of drinking. What should I go with? Rum? Whiskey? I don't know, I'll be as random as I can. 

This bar is okay I guess, just like any bar anywhere. Stools near the bartenders, stupid romantic songs bursting out of a jukebox, people dancing, pretty basic. I can find the same type of bar in London, or even Paris. 

"What can I get you?" The bartender smiles at me. She's a brunette, with ocean blue eyes. She's wearing the usual white blouse black pants uniform, how basic can this bar get? She probably thinks I'm lesbian, I sort of look butch in this, can't blame her. But I'm straight, straighter than a ruler.

"My friend and I will have tequila shots." A guy interrupts us, smirking at me. I don't even know his name, let alone be his friend. The bartender rolls her eyes and turns to get the shots. "I'm Ayden, and you are?" 

Should I play this safe and tell him a fake name in case he knows anyone in my family? Or should I be honest? Honesty is good, but lying helps sometimes, it does. It went well with Christian, why wouldn't it go well with me? I'm not Christian. But I am Jessica, and it might turn out good. Worst case scenario, I'll run away to Los Angeles.

"Lacey." I decide to go with lying, no one knows what can go wrong if anyone knew my real name. 

"Oh that's hot." He smiles, taking off his coat. "What are you doing here, you know all alone?" His accent doesn't seem like the typical DC one, it sounds kind of strange, good strange. 

"Sometimes, I like to drink." I answer him coldly, not trying in anyway to impress him. "Where are you from?" I haven't really lived in the United States for so long, I still cannot differ the accents one from the other. 

"Tennessee, you seem pure DC material." He smirks, looking at the shots. He's so flirty, but he seems good at it, and he also seems sort of a smoker. I've noticed because of the color of his lips. 

"Why'd you think so?" I raise my eyebrows, this is so weird but his accent is sort of attractive. 

"You don't have that heavy drawl, like the Dirty South." Ayden glances at the shots being delivered by the bartender. 

"What if I told you I'm from the United Kingdom?" I ask playfully, hoping he won't take it seriously. 

"How many joints have you smoked before dropping by?" He scoffs, handing me one of those tiny tequila glasses. "One, two, three!" I drink one, and it tastes just as strong and bitter as I imagined. It does taste sort of horrible, but silver tequila is known for getting you drunk. "You don't seem like a fan of tequila." Ayden remarks. 

"It's just, I haven't drunk in a while." I confess, yeah a very long while. Carmel made sure of that, but guess who just fucked it up. I'm a free adult, I am responsible of myself. Mom and Tyler have been calling nonstop, but I'm not answering. I don't want to remember Tyler's lung disease, Angelina's daycare's tuition, what I'll do after this vacation, I can just drink, and it'll be all gone. I drink that shot, very confident. "Let's do this bitches!" I think the alcohol's already kicking in. 

"You're so fucking hot when drunk." Ayden states and kisses me. Damn, I don't even know what provoked that. But it felt good, even with his lips tasting like alcohol, but who cares. It feels good to finally have fun after a really long failing relationship. 

I wake up, my head aching so bad. Hangovers, fuck. This doesn't seem like my bed though, where am I? I look for my phone, but I have no idea where it is, shit. I'm a mess right now, sleeping in a bed that's not mine, in yesterday's clothes. What happened yesterday? Damn it I was so drunk. I get out of the bed, the room's pretty organized, but I still have no clue whose house am I in.