Katya POV.
Chapter 13
Katya P.O.V
Thursday, two weeks later
Wandering the streets of Boston at 2am while dunk probably isn't a good idea. Let alone without a phone. It's been a wild two weeks of partying and doing nothing, Boston has good clubs, they're still the same as when I left six years ago, loud, dark and dirty, good for blending in I suppose.
I stumble into my accomodation for the next couple of weeks, almost tripping over my own feet. Holding on to the rail, I begin the climb up the stairs, when a face appears at the top of the stairs
"Oh my god Katya, could you be any louder?! CJ has work in the morning!"
I giggle drunkenly
"Sorry Ging, I'm trying" near yelling, my voice echoes through the hall, making Ginger cringe. Her face goes stony, and she comes down to the step above me grabbing my arm
"Shut up" she hisses into my ear, beginning to drag me up the stairs. Dragging me all the way to my room, she's mumbling under her breath. We arrive at my door and Ginger sighs, rubbing her face.
"Katya, you're a mess, go to sleep, we'll talk in the morning" she looks me dead in the eye, then turns and walks back down the hall.
By morning, my drunken haze has worn off and a hangover has set in. I stumble down the stairs, following the scent of food, leading me to the kitchen where Ginger sits at the kitchen table, a plate of toast in front of her, phone in hand and a frown on her face, she glances up at me as I enter.
"Good morning" she says shortly, and I collapse at the kitchen table.
"Morning" I grumble, causing Ginger to let out a large sigh. She looks to me, an odd look in her eye, one that makes me want to shrink back, bury myself in a pit of shame. The look of a mother.
"Look, Katya, I know we're family friends and all, but you can't be here anymore. CJ has to work, I'm pregnant and can't fucking deal with this shit. Whatever you're avoiding in LA, you need to deal with"
She looks me in the eye, and I know she's right.
Stepping off the plane is excruciating, like leaving all my freedom behind. I know I've been stupid, especially leaving Trixie behind like that, but I don't want to drag her down. So I won't. I'll let her live her life, I'll live mine, just like we used to. Strangers.
I give myself the weekend to settle in, catching up on some work and cleaning the house up a little. By Monday I'm ready to go back into the studio. But I'm still dreading it.
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