Backstage, June ripped a seam in her runway dress and a panicking designer rushed over to her to her, trying to patch it up. June had always been very short and incredibly thin, and yet the dresses were still too tight sometimes. She was wearing a nude, sparkling mermaid dress that was low-cut in the back and the front. It wouldn’t be the first time June had walked out onto the runway in a ripped dress. Thankfully, however, the designer got it patched up on time (poking June with a needle as they sewed like a beast) and June stomped out onto the runway, planting her hips at the end of it. A dozen camera flashed, taking a picture of June in her dress. She went backstage afterward and about three stagehands undressed her and put a different garment on her. All the while, June was sweating and frowning. No matter how many times she walked, her heart always pounded.
*
It had been three years since June had had that conversation with Mercury on that cold night, and June still lived with her parents. Sometimes, she would come home, go to her room, and feed her addictive habits there. She had dropped out of highschool, not gone to college, but had been lucky in landing a job as a model due to her parents’ money and her father’s influence. She made enough money to keep her parents happy. June had drunk herself into a hospital bed before--and had somehow quit after working hard in rehab--but now, she had a different addiction. She had heroin in a needle and felt it take her to a different place when she injected it into her veins. It was like she was in her own world when heroin was in her veins, safe from judgment and the anxieties she suffered. It was as if it opened up that door to that other world that that boy from her past--Mercury-- seemed to frequent.
She was in a daze, sitting on her bed. This was only her third time injecting it, and so the effects shot through her system easily and quickly, making her feel at ease.
*
When June woke up, she heard her father opening the garage door and the front door squeaking open. With her head still feeling light as air, shea quickly hid her needle and drugs. She scratched her face a little and then changed into presentable clothes. She put a little makeup on, and brushed her hair.
June heard father say to mother, “Hi, sweetie.”
“Hello.” Mother replied ineffectually.
“How is she?” Father continued.
June, now presentable, pressed her ear to her door and listened.
Mother was silent.
“I told you to check in on her.” Father was irritated.
“I forgot.” Mother answered.
June heard father climbing the stairs. On his way up, he said to mother, “Are you stupid? She could be drinking again.” She could hear father's footsteps approaching down the hallway. They came to a stop in front of her door, and Father rapped his knuckles against the doorframe. June took a deep breath and said, “Come in.”
Father opened the door and took a cursory look around. He looked relieved when he saw no sign of her previous addiction. Because mother could no longer look after June due to her severe depression, Father had stepped up and had been looking in on her.
“How was work, June?” Father asked.
June shrugged. “I walked and looked pretty.”
Father always thought of her sarcasm as charming and he indulged a chuckle. “You must have something special to become so famous a model in so little time… I know I pulled some strings for you, but you were the one who showed this industry that you could do it.”
June smiled a little, feeling a little proud of herself for just a moment, before she realized that all that was required of her at her job was to look pretty and show off pretty outfits.
“Anyway. I’m so proud of how far you’ve come since you’ve been working with Leanne. She really helped you out of that addiction.” Father craned his neck one more time to make sure June was not hiding any beer bottles.
After a moment of silence, June asked, “Is there something else you wanted?”
Father cleared his throat awkwardly. “I was thinking maybe you should start thinking about college again?”
June glanced at father awkwardly and then looked away.
Father sighed. “Just consider it, please. Maybe talk it over with Leanne tomorrow? Alright, let’s see your phone.” He held his phone out, waiting for his daughter to hand him her phone.
June handed him her phone, and after father sifted through her texts and voice mails, he handed it back, satisfied she was staying away from boys for the time being and other unhealthy influences.
Father left her room after that, and June decided not to do anymore heroin for the night. Instead, she looked out the window and just began thinking. There was an itch under her skin--an itch that she had to scratch. She deleted all the numbers of men she used to know, but she still remembered many of them by heart. She called up a man named Ben who used to drink with her.
“Hello?” He answered.
“Hi,” June replied simply. “It’s June. Do you want to go out tonight?”
There was silence. He said to her, “June, we both ended up in the hospital. My parents would be devastated if I threw my life away. We’re not good for each other.”
June was losing him. She panicked, wanting to say anything to keep him on the phone. “It’s horribly lonely without you. Isn’t it lonely without me? I don’t know what I’ll do if you’re not in my life. I love you.”
“We’re both going to die if we keep seeing each other. Maybe you should do something productive with your time. What about art? You still love to do that, right?”
June had empty tears in her eyes. “Don’t hang up…”
But he already did.
*
June sometimes liked to sneak out of her room late at night and just drive somewhere. Sometimes it was to engage in decadent behavior like drinking, drugs, or sex, but sometimes she just wanted to feel the fresh air on her face and be alone. This was one of those nights.
Father had barred her windows, and so the only way out was the front door. Only mother was awake right now. She could probably waltz out the front door without mother noticing.
She creaked her door open quietly, walked down the stairs, and padded across the living room where her mother was sleeplessly watching TV. Mother didn’t notice her at all at first, and wouldn’t have if the TV hadn’t gone black and June's image hadn't been reflect in it.
Mother turned around. “Where are you going?”
It wasn’t obvious when she was a child, but now as an adult, mother clearly suffered from depression. Mother was always so sure the gene would never manifest, but June knew what must have set it off. One day, when she came home from school, after mother had been cooking and cleaning and being a good wife and mother, father told her that he thought she wasn’t doing enough.
June thought the remark was ridiculous and rude. Mother didn’t work, but she never required father to do any of the housework and only asked that he hang out with June in his free time, which he did. But Father had been having a hard day that day, she remembered--he was a lawyer and the case he was working was a rape case, cases that were incredibly hard to prove or disprove.
The work mother did was much more fun than father’s. Father probably just said that because he was frustrated and lonely much of the time at work.
But mother hadn't been the same since then.
“I’m going out, mother.” June said honestly.
“Father doesn’t like you to go out…” Mother's attempt to stop her was lukewarm, and she clearly didn't care what June did.
“Mom, I think you really need to see a therapist…” June said with a sigh.
Mother was silent. After a moment she said, “Has it worked for you?”
“Somewhat…” June shrugged. “Anyway, I’ll see you later.”
“Bye.”
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