Interlude on hope

Bette

It is exactly 3:07 a.m. when she finds it. It’s not on purpose, really. She’s only had an hour’s sleep since Alice, Shane and she parted ways after a well-deserved get-together where the drinks were maybe a little more generous than they should have been and the feelings were a lot rougher than they all meant to be.

Her heart still felt a little too tender.

It is exactly 3:04 a.m. when she wakes up, thirsty and with a dry mouth. Slowly, she moves to get down and grab a glass of water from the kitchen. It feels like it’s been years since she had the beginnings of a hangover, and it makes her feel extremely old.

To be her age, and be drawinging her heartache in alcohol. 

How messy. How liberating.

At 3:06 a.m., she stumbles over one of the kitchen stools and, without realizing it, slides one of her feet under the table, pushing a small golden object out of its hidden place and freezing her in place.

There it was, glowing under the moon, laughing at her from the floor. And god, it reminds her of West Hollywood. 

And despite it all, Bette Porter remembers West Hollywood, oh, so very well. 

She often wishes she didn’t, but you see, memories have a nasty and unwelcome habit of creeping into the back of your mind like a stray cat with a penchant for finding all the unlocked entrances.

Memories stick to your mind whether you want them to or not, sometimes like anchors, sometimes like leeches.

Every once in a while, she remembers West Hollywood better than her own present and it makes her hurt all over again.

She remembers it so well that sometimes it feels like she’s a ghost of her own life. Like she’s forever haunting the remnants of what might have been.

And she tries not to. God knows she tries. But it’s hard not to. There is no forgiveness in the smell of coffee that caresses her senses as she walks the streets of Los Angeles. The smell takes her back to a time when she was someone she recognized, not the lost version of herself she keeps seeing in the mirror. When moments like that happen, she thanks the heavens that her daddy built her spine out of steel and fear so she could keep standing up when every cell in her body told her not to.