Chapter One

As I stepped out of the plane and headed out towards my gate, like the rest of the passengers, I could already smell and taste Chicago’s sweet and well-missed air. It sure had been awhile, hadn’t it Chicago? But, I told you I’d be back, and here I am again. I really don’t know what was preventing my legs from breaking out into a full-on run towards the exit. Maybe I was just trying not to be childish. And I kind of didn’t want my ride to ditch me here.

Finally, though, I was at the gate, and I just couldn’t help but smile as I saw my old friend and once-roommate. She, like me, had changed a lot over the past few years.

“Nice to know you remembered to pick me up,” I said, still smiling. I hope she still remembered my slightly scathing sense of humor.

“Well, if I hadn’t showed up, you would’ve probably found your way to the apartment and broken your way through. Less of a hassle to just pick you up,” she responded, also smiling. Good, I guess things hadn’t changed quite that much just yet. “Need help with your stuff?”

I shook my head. “Nah, I’m good. Let’s get going so we can eat, I’m starving. Air plane food sucks…”

“Let’s go for Denny’s. If you’re paying, that is.”

I laughed. Denny’s would be the perfect way to commemorate our reunion.

“Sure, I’m game.”

As we drove into the city, I took it all in again, everything this particular city had to offer. People who don’t take the time to see either city will think that Chicago is just trying to be a cheap imitation of New York City, but that’s not true at all. Chicago has an air of closeness and of antiquity that NYC, for all its glamour and lights, can’t quite match. Not that I want to say that one city is better or worse than the other, just that both have their good points. In my case, I’d simply tired of NYC’s good points, and missed Chicago’s, and decided it was time to come back.

Well, that was one side of the story, one of maybe ten sides.

Finally, Marie pulled into the valet parking just outside the Denny’s we’d once accustomed ourselves to visiting whenever either of us had a little extra money to burn. I chipped in my share of the valet price, and began walking ahead. As I pushed the door open, I realized that they’d remodeled this Denny’s. It was strange though. It still had the same feeling it always had. To this day I still can’t quite name that feeling. The waiter, who looked like a college student trying to make ends meet, seated us and gave us our menus. As he walked away, I couldn’t help but sigh in relief.

“Well well, so the NYU graduate returns to her alma mater of a city. What’d NYU do to you? I mean, look at your piercings!”

I laughed. “Oh come on, it’s just four on one, five on another, and one that hooks up to my lip. No biggie, really.”

“And a butterfly tattoo with lotus petals for wings on your arm?” I side glanced it. It was black, the petals with hot pink details.

“My band mates and I all have the same one. Just in different colors and varying styles. It was my idea, actually, while we were all drunk and in town.”

Marie shook her head. “You’re the perfect image of an NYU graduate, go you.”

“Double major in Creative Writing and History, what else do you expect? And what about you? You’re a third year in UIC now, you’re a total college student now.”

She smiled. “I know, finally. I can get that degree in Psychology now.”

“You’re still going to do art anyway, right?”

“Do you even need to ask?” She had a point. I think she’d rather eat glass than stop drawing. The waiter came back, and we made our orders. As usual, we ordered breakfast food, even though it was eight o’clock at night. But hey, who goes to Denny’s to buy food that’s not breakfast anyway? I sighed again, this time silently, as I looked out the window. The Sears Tower was still as insanely tall as ever. But then, it’s not as though it was going to shrink while I was gone. I don’t know why, I seemed to expect more things to have changed, and yet, it’s all still the same.

“Hey Ana.”

I looked up. “Yeah?”

“Are you over him?”

Huh. Well. Here we come across another side of my story in leaving Chicago and returning some years later. Was I over him? It’d been…almost exactly three years since we’d last seen each other. And I was pretty damn sure I’d gotten over him and his sorry ass. Still, only Marie knew this side of my story. But, in my mind, c’est la vie. I was done and over it.

“Of course I am,” I said, smiling. “What, you think I wouldn’t be?”

She smiled back. “Yeah, you’re right. I was just worried. I mean, your band mates are moving here too, right?”

I nodded. “We all graduated at the same time, so since we’re done getting our useless degrees, it’s time we started focusing full-time on music. And we’re tired of the NYC scene, it’s boring to us now. Justin should be moving here next week, and Les and Sebastian are coming the week after.”

“Can’t wait then. Tell me once you guys get your first live gig, I want front-row tickets.”

“It’s a deal.” Finally, our orders arrived.

I hate lying to people though, especially to their faces. I munched on my pancakes. They were still pretty good. I knew that I could fool most anyone into thinking that I really was over him, but the only one I could never fool was me. I left Chicago for NYC because my pride had been all but shattered to tiny pieces. I had my heart broken by the only man I knew I’d ever love, but who no longer loved me back. I couldn’t take it. I said to myself that maybe leaving for a few years would help me get it back together again, but that’s another lie. I was just running away.

I think I was still running away at that point. But I finally returned to my starting point in the belief that I was done running. I wanted to believe that.

“You’re a slow eater tonight.”

I looked up, a little startled. I still had that habit of getting lost in myself for moments at a time.

“Eh, I’m just not that much of an eater anymore.”

“Good, less money on food.”

I laughed a bit. No matter what my current situation, it felt very good to be back in the place I considered to be my true home.

As I dropped my bags on the floor, I took a look around the apartment. It was still the same two-room-one-bathroom place, but it seemed that Marie had been slowly building it to be the modern, chic living space she always said she’d wanted. Thankfully, that aesthetic hadn’t transferred over to the space that would become my room again. I’d be shopping for stuff for my room the next day. Thankfully, I had a sizeable fund to spend on these things, and to live on till I could find job and wait for my band mates to get their asses here.

“I like what you’ve done to the place,” I commented.

“I’m glad, because I like what I’ve done to the place.” I could here her rummaging off somewhere. Brushing bright red bangs out of my face, I looked out the window. This place had the best view of downtown Chicago. I still wondered what kind of luck Marie had to get a place like this. Rummaging through my pockets, I pulled out my cigarette pack, and took a cigarette.

“Oh right, Ana!” I looked up as I lit my cigarette.

“Yeah?”

“I’m going downtown around the Loop now. There’re a couple of parties tonight, and I said I’d show up to at least one of them. Wanna come? It’s your first night back after all.” I was tired, and I wasn’t feeling entirely orientated as to where I was, since it’d been so long since I’d been here. But what the hell, I thought. I was in a good mood.

“Sure, what the hell. Let’s go for it.” I grabbed my phone and wallet, waited for Marie to “freshen up”, and out we were, headed towards the closest train station. Thankfully, the apartment complex we live in is very close to a Red line stop, so all we had to do was get on and get off at around Washington (according to Marie and where these supposed parties would be). The nice thing about both Chicago and NYC is that, if you know which way you’re going, it’s easy as hell to navigate without the need of a car. I personally prefer it. I’m not too particular on driving or owning a car, and taking public transportation is far easier.

I didn’t say much as I followed Marie into the train station, onto the train, and off the train and out of the Washington stop. I simply followed, lost in my thoughts a bit. Somehow, I slightly regretted agreeing to come along. It wasn’t as though I thought these parties would be bad or that I’m anti-social. It was more of a feeling that something important was about to happen. What kind of important, I wasn’t sure. I kept thinking it was the bad kind, hence my slight pang of regret. But I brushed off the feeling repeatedly. I’m just being silly, I thought. They’re just parties, and I’m here to have fun. Nothing significant will happen. This isn’t a movie.

Well, I’d told myself that before, and I now realize that maybe my life IS one giant movie. Also, I should listen to my slight hunches far more often.

“Hey! Earth to Ana! We’re here.” I looked up. It was another apartment complex, like the many ones Chicago had. This one in particular looked as though I’d need to either be a prostitute or a rock star to pay for the rent. It was most definitely one of the swankier places I’d been around in a long while. This also meant that whoever was hosting the party was either a rich frat boy or sorority girl, or a rich DePaul student. Or both. I suddenly felt poor as I looked over my usual punk attire (ripped shirt, black skirt, fishnet with holes in them, Converse sneakers, leather wrist cuffs and my short hair…and my piercings and tattoo). Then again, I’m an NYU graduate, who am I to talk? I was probably just over-thinking it all, as usual.

After some flights of stairs (oddly, the elevator was broken), Marie pushed the door open at around the eighth floor, and in we went.

“I didn’t know you were this social a person,” I said to Marie curiously. A few years ago, she really wasn’t that social, which was why I was also slightly surprised that she was going to a party at all.

“Well, I made it my resolution when I got into UIC to be a social college student. So I guess this is a side-effect. Most of the people here are either UIC students or DePaul students. There’re also people from a couple other universities in the area.”

“Sounds like a full house,” I said, as we approached the place where the party must’ve been. I could here the music, talking and laughter from where I was already.

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll introduce you to people. It’ll be fun.”

“I didn’t say it wouldn’t be…” Marie knocked on the door. After a few moments, a tall guy wearing a baseball cap answered.

“Hey Marie! Glad you could make it! Come on in, who’s this?”

“This is Ana. She was my roommate a few years ago, and she’s moved in with me again.”

“Really? Nice to meet you Ana. Come on, the party’s barely started.” And ushered in we were. Though there was plenty of people and booze, it really did seem as though things had just gotten started. At the very least, no one was trashed yet, and the place seemed reasonably well-kept.

“Hey, lemme introduce you to some people Ana,” said Marie happily. She sure wasn’t the same shy girl I once knew.

“Er, sure. I’m just…going to get some beer first…” I slid away towards wherever the kitchen was. Taking a look into the fridge, I grabbed a bottle of beer and popped it open. American beer certainly wasn’t to my taste, but I drank it every now and then regardless. Especially since that’s all there was. Whoever was bringing the stronger booze wasn’t here yet. That could probably explain how low-key the party seemed to be at the moment. It didn’t matter much to me though.

“Ana! Come meet the crew!” Couldn’t avoid it any longer, I thought. So I walked back over to where Marie was, as she dragged me around, introducing me to a bunch of people. The amount seemed to multiply with each person too (and with it, the amount of booze I seemed to consume). The faces and names were all a blur to me, nothing really sticking. More than likely, when I was in more sober situation and having a little more fun, I’d be asking every one of them their names again. At least I can’t remember names that well to begin with.

At some point though, my eyes just snapped open. I was asleep? I took a look around. It was the same apartment, and it was still night. And the party seemed to be going in full swing still. But I was in a bedroom now, cans of booze on the floor, right next to my pants. And my underwear. Oh, and my shirt and bra? On the other side of the bed, were a guy was passed out and as naked as me. And this, ladies and gentlemen, is the number one reason why I hate drinking.

Shit…what did I do now? I looked at the clock. It was 1am. My last memory of time was around 11pm. So I guess not too much had happened. I took a look at the guy again. He was decent-looking, with long hair and a lean body. Sighing, I dressed and brushed my short hair a little. Guess I just have to remember to take the morning-after pill later… I really wasn’t having a lot of fun at this party here. So, unless Marie had already left without me, I figured I’d just jet back to the apartment. I figured she wouldn’t mind too much.

As I walked out the room, I stopped short as I heard a pair of voices talking in the hallway. I recognized one to be Marie’s.

“Yeah, someone told me about this yesterday, and since Ana just got here today, I figured it’d be a good idea to get her back into the Chicago groove. Hell, she disappeared awhile ago with Matt…”

“Wait, Ana’s here?” At first, I couldn’t quite place the other voice.

Then it hit me like giant semi going at seventy miles per hour.

I was out of there. I don’t care what I told that girl whose full name is Anna Marie. I didn’t care if I lied to everyone and said I was over him. I didn’t care that it’s not true at all. I just had to leave. Quiet as I could, I walked down the hallway, opposite of where I heard their voices. There were still people around, but none of them knew me, and none of them cared about me. Just one glitch to my amazing escape plan: I now felt violently sick. I vaguely remembered where the bathroom was, so I bolted in that direction as fast as I could, slamming and locking the door behind me. In my confusion and rush to escape as fast as possible, I’d completely forgotten exactly how much I’d had to drink. Everything that I was puking out was proof that I’d probably had no less than fifteen beers, five shots of rum, and shots of whatever the hell was around. I could hold my alcohol, just not this much.

After what seemed like hours (but was really only ten minutes), I felt that it was safe to rinse my mouth, stand, and get back to bolting out of this place. At least I got it all out now, I thought to myself as I twisted the knob on the door. Clumsier than I usually was, I bumped into someone who was standing right in front of the door.

“Sorry,” I said as I pushed past him.

“Long time no see, Ana.”

And there went my grand escape plans.

So I suppose this now begs the question: what exactly happened? And who are these people in this story? I myself am very bad at giving explanations…especially when said explanations are about me. Still, nothing in this story will make any sense if I don’t, at the very least, give a short, concise explanation about who the characters are and what happened before the current plot was set into motion.

My full name is Ana Vázquez. When this story started, I was twenty-two years old, moving back to Chicago with my band mates. The four of us had just graduated from the oh-so-prestigious New York University, and we figured that now that we had our fancy degrees, it was high time to change scenes and break into the music industry. Well, much easier said than done, of course, but hey, we were university graduates, so if we failed, it’s not like we’d spend the rest of our lives in McDonalds. I could probably be a teacher even.

Even though I was a native of NYC, the truth was that, three years before, I’d moved to Chicago on complete and total whim. It was after my first year in college. I had grown restless and impatient, and wanted to move out into the world, regardless of consequences. There was another reason for me to choose Chicago, one that not many people ever found out. A person that I considered to be special beyond words was there. A friend was going to let me stay with her while I got myself on my feet. And I thought that I had all the answers that I would need. I didn’t need college. I didn’t need NYC anymore. All I needed was something I thought was called freedom and one person in particular, by the name of Giancarlo.

So, for almost a year, I worked and lived in Chicago, with the girl named Marie. The truth was, her name was actually Anna Marie. But, since my name was Ana, to avoid confusion, I started to call her Marie. And it stuck, apparently. I worked two part-time jobs in two different places and was able to squeeze out a meager living. In between, at night, I’d go to auditions, to act. I had once wanted to become an actress, you see. Obviously, nothing came of that.

And, most definitely least of not, I spent time with Giancarlo. I sacrificed a lot to be with this guy, and I didn’t mind. I thought he was the perfect one for me. Sure, there were a lot of things I didn’t enjoy. I didn’t enjoy the fact that he only ever made an effort to call me once or twice a week (and if it was twice, he would be drunk one of those times). I didn’t enjoy the pictures he’d post of himself with other women on Facebook. And I most definitely didn’t enjoy that he only ever wanted to make time for his partying and college buddies. Half the time, I felt as though I was completely forgotten.

But the other half of the time…that other half is what I loved about him and why I endured. He’d surprise me at work with flowers. He’d show up at the apartment when I was sick to take care of me. Sometimes, when I had the apartment to myself and he was over, he’d just catch me off-guard in the living room or when I was in the shower. And he’d make me feel like the most-loved woman in the world. For all of those things, I wouldn’t dare trade it back for the life I had in NYC. I could live with the fact that I was, in truth, running away from my problems. I knew that I had many amends to make, and that it’d all come back to bite me in the ass. I thought I could do it though.

And then came that day. Giancarlo called me (after canceling a couple of dates), and told me that he wanted to talk to me at his dorm. So I got on the Red line, and an hour later, I was at his dorm. I wasn’t entirely sure what he wanted to talk about, but I was just happy to see him. That happiness evaporated almost instantly as soon as I saw him and leaned up to kiss him. There was no emotion, no feeling, no thought. We walked silently to his room. Neither of his roommates were in, so I sat down on his bed. A few silent, tense minutes passed by. Now I was feeling nervous. Deep down, I probably knew what was going to happen. But I wanted to delay it. As I opened my mouth to speak, he beat me to the punch.

“Ana. Look…I can’t do this anymore. I mean, you’re a cool girl, really you are. But I just don’t feel that spark with you anymore.”

I was silent.

“I’ll still be there for you, and you know that- Ana?”

I had stood up, and was grabbing my bag and putting on my coat. I didn’t want to hear anymore. I didn’t want to think. I didn’t want to know. I just didn’t. I just wanted to leave this place as fast as possible. So I headed out his door, and made my way out of the dorm. I didn’t want to, I didn’t-

“Ana! Wait!” He reached out and grabbed my arm.

“Let go of me!” I pushed him back and kept walking towards the station.

“Wait, no!” I swiped my card at the station and went up the stairs, towards the trains. The Red line train was already there. “Ana!”

I turned around. “What is it? You don’t love me. Fuck, you never did, did you? And now you don’t even like me. What was I to you? Just a ‘cool girl’ you could hang out with when your harem of women was too busy to stroke your pretty hair or for you to grope or have sex with? To kill your loneliness? And now you’re tired of me, and tired of it all. So just leave me alone. You’ve done enough damage.” I turned back towards the door. “I don’t ever want to see you again.”

I walked into the train and found an empty seat. My cart was empty except for one old man. I bent my head low so I could hide the tears. I knew that Giancarlo was looking at me through the window. I didn’t care, though. I just wanted to leave as fast as possible. I knew that the old man was looking at me too. I heard him say some words. But I wasn’t listening. I wanted to leave. The train finally started moving again, and so did the plane. I was gone, going back to my home to start over again. I didn’t care that I’d done a lot of damage. I would fix it, gladly.

I just couldn’t stay, not with the thought of him.