Stealing Kisses

Chapter 6

Tim POV: 

I sit at the bar, staring down at my drink. My mind keeps running over how miserable and stagnant my life has become. All I do is write, sing, drink, and sleep. The most frustrating thing is that no matter how many gigs I play or demos I record, I've yet to capture anyone's attention. I look at the bottles on the shelf behind the bar, wondering which I'll take next. I hear a barstool grind against the wooden floors, causing me to turn my head. A pretty little blonde locks eyes with me, as she starts toward the barstool beside me. She cracks a smile, making my panicked thoughts fall silent. She forces a smile to appear on my face for the first time in a lifetime. I fall captivated by her, before someone crosses between us. 

Her smile fades as a man reaches for her hand. She quickly pulls it back, before rolling her eyes and rushing toward the door. He follows her out, causing the room to lose the bright color she brought to it. I look down at my glass, no longer wanting the whiskey. I just want to see her smile again... I glance toward the door, begging her to come back inside. It feels like she should reappear at any moment, but the moments drag on to minutes. 

I place some cash on the bar, before starting toward the door in search of her. I head out the side door, looking around the sidewalks. She's nowhere to be seen. I jog to broadway, where a hundred faces pass, none resembling hers. I start across the street, peeking through the crowd and stopping every blonde who even moderately resembles her. I stop after a moment, trying to calm down my thoughts. Why am I so dead set on finding this girl? All we did was lock eyes. I don't even know her name, or what her voice sounds like. 

I take a deep breath, giving up the notion that I'll find her loitering in the street. There's a break in the moving crowd, revealing a tall blonde standing in front of the doors to the bar. My heart skips a beat, as I quickly work my way through the masses. I step off the sidewalk, taking a few steps before I hear tires screeching. She turns around, locking eyes with me once more, before something knocks me off my feet. 

The moments pass slow, as I come to on the cold pavement. The neon lights of the honky tonks are too bright for the stars, but that's alright. Their sparkle is just as captivating. My view of the reds, blues, and yellows reflecting off the clouds is full and sweeping, until a cloak of blonde curls comes into view over me. She looks terrified, but still so beautiful. Her lips move, but I can't hear a sound. She slips her white sweater off her thin shoulders, placing it carefully around my neck, making sure not to put it on too tight. Her fingers graze my cheek, before resting firmly on my chest. 

"It's alright... You're okay." She reassures me, her voice captivating me. I've never heard something so sweet... "Help's on the way." She adds, her voice steady while her eyes reveal panic. Her lips remain parted, while her hair blows in the downtown midnight breeze. "Everything is going to be okay." She says, looking into my eyes. God, what I'd give to tell her what I'm thinking. I'm thinking of things I've never thought before. What'd I'd give to tell her about how her smile is like the brightest sunshine I've ever felt, and her touch feels like warm silk. What I've give to tell her that when her eyes land on me, I'm steady, no longer the stumbling fool I usually am. 

I sit straight up, my head pounding and my stomach churning as yesterday's bad decisions lead to today's misery. I slowly stagger down the hall, noticing Rob sitting on the couch with a cup of starbucks coffee. Another cup rests on the counter with my name on it. He watches the news, before glancing up at me. 

"God, you look like shit." He remarks, as I grab my coffee and go right to my medicine cabinet. I grab my bottle of percocet, pouring out three pills and popping them in. Rob watches, before turning back to the tv. I wash down the pills with coffee, before sitting down in the chair beside him. "Do you want to explain to me why Faith Hill was calling me at eleven o'clock at night, saying that she thought you were a danger to yourself?" He asks, making me cringe. I look down at my coffee table, before seeing a note resting there. I lean forward and grab it, unfolding what feels like a napkin. In blue pen, a short note written in soft cursive rests inside. 

Call me if you need anything, even if it's just to talk. My number is below. - Your friend, Faith. 

I read the number, before jamming the napkin into the pocket of my sweats. Rob watches me, before clearing his throat. He seems to be upset. 

"Tim, that girl was shaking when I showed up. What happened?" He presses, making my chest ache. I didn't think it was that scary for her... 

"I just got really drunk, that's all." I reply, avoiding eye contact. He watches me, before standing up. He walks over to a plastic grocery bag, carrying it to the coffee table between us. He abruptly dumps it out, causing orange pill bottles to crash onto the table, the pills rattling loud enough to make me flinch. 

"Tim, I've turned my head with this shit, but I want a direct answer on why you had this many pills laying in your passenger seat." He asserts, while I stare at the bright colored tubes rolling on the table. I remain silent, trying to find a way out of this conversation. I'm cornered... "Tim..." He calls, trying to capture my attention. "Be honest with me. Were you going to kill yourself last night?" He asks directly, making my stomach churn. I look toward the tv, seeing Faith's face come across it as they talk about her new album. The picture suddenly goes black, causing me to look at Rob as he holds the remote. He slams it down on the table, growing frustrated with my inability to focus. 

"What's the point?" I release, causing his stare to grow more intense. 

"What do you mean?" He replies patiently. 

"What the point in having this conversation? You and I both know what my plan was. It's pretty fucking clear." I spew, before standing up and grabbing my keys. Rob shuts his eyes while remaining still. 

"Tim, where the hell are you going?" He asks, before I march outside, slamming the door behind me.