Chapter 3 Leaf
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Leaf
The sun relentlessly poured through the cracks in the wooden cabin, slicing through the smoke-filled room with its golden rays like spears. A dense fog of grass and tobacco hung in the stale air. Outside, the leaves of the trees rustled, yet the warm wind failed to disperse the pent-up heat.
Leaf sluggishly rolled onto his side and opened his eyes. His supplies were spread out and within reach on the coffee table. For days, he had been numbing himself in his cave, but his thoughts kept drifting back to the day that had changed everything.
A single gunshot, and before him appeared a gaping hole. The moment Tristan disappeared into it was seared into his brain. It had been too late to reach out for him, to grab him and hold him tight. Completely in shock, Tristan sat in the open police car, only physically present but lost in mind.
Leaf had been left behind.
Alone.
And then he had slipped away from the world.
Plunged headfirst into his own darkness.
Where he could numb himself.
Forget everything.
He would have preferred to dissolve into the intoxication.
The storm was brewing again. Like ghosts, images raced through his mind, stirring up the past that he had tried so hard to keep in the dark. His body tensed, trembled, his breath caught.
The effect wore off.
Dazed, he sat up and gasped for air. With a shaky hand, he reached for the half-full glass of Jack Daniel’s and downed it in one gulp. Then he poured another and lit a cigarette.
He was good at disappearing, but he couldn’t escape. The path he had chosen at least made Tristan’s absence bearable. But the fear he had been left with ate away at him internally.
Seeing no one. Speaking to no one. He had committed a sin. Only the drugs brought him relief, sometimes a fresh breeze that he gratefully inhaled. Afterward, he felt ashamed for allowing himself to feel carefree for a moment.
Accustomed to the darkness, he wondered how much longer he could endure it?
Weary, he rubbed his face and ran his fingers through his long, greasy hair.
A cough escaped his throat, and he took a swig from his drink, but it wasn’t enough.
Placing the burning cigarette in the ashtray, he reached for a baggie with the sticky black lump.
Forming small balls, he stuffed them into the glass pipe.
Holding the lighter underneath, he took a deep hit of opium, the sweet white mist filling his lungs.
A pleasant heaviness settled over his body, and his muscles relaxed.
He leaned back, blowing out the smoke, giving in to the intoxication.
Flashes of light flickered in all colors before his eyes.
The scent of lilac, lavender, and pine filled the air.
Then he left his confined body and disappeared from the surface.
For an entire week, they had resembled ghosts, trapped in a reality that demanded they act like robots. The funeral had been a disaster. Tristan was a shadow of himself on two legs, barely able to stand upright. A whole day lost in the thickest fog.
When Tristan had vanished from the scene, Leaf realized this was only the beginning of something he felt responsible for. He had searched for the right words over and over again, but he had remained silent and had hated himself more with each passing day.
It wasn’t what Milo had taken with him, but what he had left behind. The great catastrophe. The void that had swallowed Tristan like a monster.
“Oh my God! What should we do?” Andrej panicked. “What about the tour? Do we need a replacement? Carol!”
“The tour will go on,” the manager said sternly. “There’s a lot of money at stake. Damn it! What was he thinking?”
They discussed finding replacement singers and guitarists, and brainstormed ways to keep the show running. Leaf let it wash over him, sitting dazed until he eventually toppled off the chair.
Since then, he had been busy erasing the past. Everything should disappear into thin air until the annoying ringing of the phone had pulled him out of the depths of his stupor.
“Leaf! Can you hear me?” Carol called, sounding breathless.
Leaf had placed the phone next to his ear and closed his eyes.
“We found him. He’s in Vegas and had an accident. They transferred him to a psychiatric facility. He’s okay. I spoke to the doctor. No cause for concern. There’s nothing that won’t heal in three weeks.”
His heart tore apart. Angry, he threw the phone away and fled into the haze. He knew that Tristan—plagued by crippling pain—had found no other way out than to turn his overwhelming despair against himself.
The blood burned hot in Leaf’s veins and thundered through his head.
Blow after blow.
What would he give to free Tristan from grief?
I have nothing but my life.
He can have it if he wants.
The thought calmed him, gave him strength to let go again and sink even deeper into the haze.
“Leaf! Are you here?”
Someone was impatiently banging on the door.
“Leaf!”
Probably just a dream.
One of many that had been haunting him lately. Just as often as he had thought he saw Tristan in his cabin.
“I’m sorry! I’m so damn sorry!”
But there was no one—just the haze.
“God, what’s that smell?”
Andrej.
Far away.
“Leaf! Wake up!”
And suddenly so close.
No door separating them anymore.
Leaf slowly opened his eyes and stared down at himself like a ghost. In the sour fog, amid scattered pizza boxes, beer, and whiskey, he lay out on the couch, completely out of it. He wore torn jeans, a Sepultura shirt, black Converse sneakers, and a three-day beard.
“He’s completely gone!” Leaf heard Andrej pacing behind him, his frustration evident in every word.
Is he on the phone?
“He needs a doctor!” Then a growl. “I’m not his damn babysitter!” His voice echoed through the entire cabin. “Fine! I’ll see what I can do. Are you guys already in L.A.?” Andrej stopped. “Okay, then we’ll see each other later. Bye.”
Something shifted in the fog. Fresh air flowed in, and the smoke escaped through the open door to the balcony.
The rattling sound as Andrej pulled back the curtains startled Leaf, propelling him to feel trapped in his body again.
With his eyes closed, he noticed the light flooding the cabin and felt a warm hand on his upper arm.
Go away!
“Leaf, wake up.”
Leave me alone. We both don’t want this.
Andrej put his arm around his shoulders and hauled him up.
When was the last time I stood upright?
How do I stay that way?
“How can anyone let themselves go like this? It’s unbelievable,” Andrej ranted as he lifted Leaf to his feet.
No, staying upright is impossible.
Leaf’s knees buckled, but that wasn’t a problem for Andrej, who regularly went to the gym and concealed the sculpted body of a bouncer under his plain blue T-shirt.
Leaf noticed the cool wall against his back. When Andrej let go of him, his legs buckled again, and he sank to the floor.
“Oh man! You stink! When was the last time you showered?” Andrej turned on the water and stormed out of the bathroom.
Leaf leaned his head against the wall and stretched out his legs. The water sprayed down on him, and the roaring in his ears drowned out his jumbled thoughts. But his clothes became heavy; more weight was pulling him down. Exhausted, he buried his face in his hands.
What a battlefield.
It’s tearing me apart.
Though he could still hold himself together, the fight had already lasted too long, three cursed weeks in total. Leaning back, he pushed the wet hair out of his face, breathing out haltingly. The screams remained.
If I could turn my insides out, they would escape. I could shake them off. No more memories. Go up in smoke and disappear. Back to paradise.
Where’s the substance that’ll take me back there?
He gradually opened his eyes. The noise of the water echoed in his ears, but it couldn’t get rid of that one thought.
There was a way back to paradise. Leaf raised his hand and turned off the faucet.
Disgusted by reality, the dark wooden walls, the red curtain at the window, the black carpet, the toilet, the sink, and himself, he closed his eyes again.
A hand touched his shoulder, while another brushed against his forehead. His head fell back as Andrej’s voice echoed from a distance.
“Wake up already. Come on!”
Leaf laboriously opened his leaden eyelids and tried to focus on Andrej. He couldn’t. The lamp above his head blinded him too much, so he closed his eyes again.
“Leaf, damn it! Get yourself together!”
Andrej grabbed him under the arms, hoisted him to his feet, and pinned him against the wall. A slap brought Leaf back to reality.
“Can I let you go, or are you going to collapse again?”
Dazed, Leaf straightened up and brushed some brown strands from his face. His hand was shaky, his limbs numb, but he felt life returning to them and the carousel in his head gradually gaining speed again.
“Get dressed. And don’t forget to shave. I brought pizza—it’s about time you eat something,” Andrej stated in a monotonous tone, tossing a towel at him before leaving the room.
With heavy legs, Leaf stepped out of the shower. His eyes burned, and his mouth was dry. He knew the moment would come. Eventually. And now he felt like he’d been run over by a steamroller. No wonder. Days of drug use didn’t go unpunished and left their mark.
He sat on the toilet lid and removed his wet trousers, along with his T-shirt and pants. Once more, he stood under the water and washed himself with soap and shampoo. He couldn’t smell anything, but he was sure Andrej was right.
With wobbly legs, Leaf finally made his way to the sink to brush his teeth and shave.
As he combed his hair, he noticed the dark circles under his eyes.
It was obvious that he was suffering. His gaze was dull and lost. He tied his long hair back and pushed a strand behind his ear.
No matter how deep and dark the circles were, the more orderly his appearance, the better the impression.
Still weak on his feet, he went to the bedroom and put on fresh clothes. Black jeans, an Iron Maiden shirt, and a black jacket. Unfortunately, the last thing he needed for a decent appearance was in the living room. Cocaine. As he staggered out of the room, he nearly collided with Andrej.
“Back from the dead, huh?” Andrej teased as he rounded the corner into the kitchen.
Leaf looked at him in confusion before plopping down on the couch and prepared two lines.
“What the hell is that?” Andrej entered the living room, holding a pizza box.
“I’m coming back to life.”
“Dude, we’re going on tour. The first gig is on Saturday. You should get back on your feet—without this shit!”
“That’s exactly what I’m doing.” With this shit. Leaning forward, he snorted the coke.
“You’re living in a total junkie den!” Andrej exclaimed, astonished. “Look at yourself! You’re a wreck. Tris is coming back today. I thought …”
“I know!” It took all his strength to interrupt Andrej’s flow of speech. Yes, he knew he would meet Tristan soon, but the love for him, which bubbled up at the mere mention of Tristan’s name, choked him. So he drank the last sips of whiskey and lit a cigarette.
Andrej took a deep breath. “You really should eat something,” he said in a conciliatory tone.
As Leaf stood up, he rubbed his nose and grabbed a beer from the kitchen. “I’ll drive myself,” he said nonchalantly.