. night changes

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her head thumped, even behind her oversized glasses her dark and tired eyes strained against the glaring midday sun. she delicately sipped pellegrino as she slumped in the back of her town car. she tucked her fur coat tighter around herself, burying her face in the softness of it's collar. she didn't know why she thought that a night out would be a good idea. perhaps this hangover was her penance for snooping. she knew she shouldn't have been reading his IM's but when she had spotted her name on jack's computer screen one night it was hard to resist the temptation. to be fair, it wasn't what she had hoped to hear her boyfriend say about her amongst the company of his friends and the memory of his words still stung. layla's resolve to change herself and her image was absolute in her mind that night, but her first attempt was far from successful. she knew a few paparazzi had gotten shots of her leaving and she dreaded to see any stories she was a part of this morning. perhaps a party hard lifestyle to match her rockstar boyfriend weren't quite up her alley just yet. perhaps muse was more suited to her. no headache in the world could have kept her from him today at the mere mention that she could help him today. she was still overwhelmed at the idea he had written a song about her, let alone that it was as successful as it was. she would have dragged herself off her deathbed to be with him today when he had asked for her. she easily chose to ignore his irritation and disapproval of her drunken night out, she couldn't blame him for being so upset, she had always hated public places, especially public places mixed with alcohol, it was probably the most out of character thing she could have done. his long days and late nights of writing probaby didn't help either, but hindsight was always 20/20 and layla had set out to prove something last night. it might not have worked like she hoped but there was nothing she wouldn't do for him. perhaps that was her problem. they were nearing his place, the familiar streets started passing by and she pulled her coat around herself tighter and ran her fingers through her hair to let it settle around her face, obscuring her from the view of lurking paps. she couldn't imagine any would be hanging around, jack had barely been seen out in weeks, looking himself away and she hadn't been visiting while he had exiled himself. at some point they had given up staking out the guitarists address hoping for a glimpse of the couple. it was a routine she had pulled on him once before, the lingerie underneath the coat, it was layla's go to move, but with the cool, cloudy weather outside her window she had pulled out a fur to slide over the agent provocateur piece underneath. it was never an unwelcome move with men, it didn't matter how many times she did it. no man ever got tired of the surprise or the sheer sexiness. no man ever turned down a girl in lingerie for the most part anyway. she was his muse now, she had a job to inspire, and she had to make up for the upset she had caused him this morning. the car slowed outside his apartment and she cast a wary eye about the streets before slipping out of the car, birkin filled with whiskey and snacks toted on her arm, and let herself into his apartment complex. at his door, the handle turned in her hand allowing her in and she found a typical men's apartment. untidy, unclean, clothes and discarded lyrics littering the floor, empty plates and glasses strewn about, liquor bottles scattered across bench tops. she heard the plucking of guitar strings from somewhere in the apartment as she picked her path carefully through the room. "jack?" she called out into the apartment, hesitantly. she pulled her fur closed tighter, she wasn't sure if trey was still here and the last thing she wanted was for him to see her half dressed, she knew he already disliked the young actress, she knew that on different occasions he had told jack that she wasn't worth the trouble to keep her. but layla merely smiled through his dislike, because she knew that the more the media followed them as a couple, the more the band would profit. she certainly wasn't about to brag about it, but trey knew the truth just as much as she did. "jack, where are you? i bought whiskey..." she called about again, pausing in the kitchen to attempt to find a clean glass to pour him some. tagged: jack kearney notes:worst thing i've ever written. i lost the first copy. listening: swifty

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Another cigarette flicked between his index finger and middle one. It was his third one in the last two hours. Jack blew the toxic smoke from his lips and sighed deeply. Right now the nicotine was all that could save him from wanting to tear out his hair. The curls on his head were overgrown by a few inches. The normal scruffiness of his face was long overdue for a trim. The studio was asking for an album in the next three months, if they wanted to keep up with their following. The tour had gotten over with just two weeks ago. A tour that was supposed to last for 8 months tops had gotten extended with their popularity. It meant that their time home was cut short. Although his sister was a pain in his arse, it had been months since he had seen Hailea or even his little sister. One of his inspirations came from his family. After all a few of their songs had been written about them. But alas, the fast lane life had shortened their personal life. All he could do now was call them from various hotel rooms. Shows were selling out faster than they anticipated. Album sales were sky rocketing, the highest the boys had seem them yet. Maybe that's why management had pushed them to get back in the studio. What if their first album was all they got? Their music did something to others, the thousands of the fans that supported them would be let down.  Inside the door he was leaning against, was a very frustrated Trey. Six songs were done but clearly that wasn't enough to release a new album. Trey and Jack had written every song together on the first album. The other guys had pitched some ideas but mostly those two got credit. It was all management wanted too. The booked a studio for Trey and Jack to stay in for as long as it took for them to finish this album. Likewise, Jack was struggling to focus and write. Unlike previous times in his life, the muse for any writing was gone. This writing wasn't like the one they had done for 13 years in his garage. A pressure was over them to finish this album to keep up with a fame they didn't want that badly. For the band, it was just about relaying the message of their music. Each song talked about something in their life but was meant to relate to everyone. However it just wasn't the same. Concentration was hard for him these days. Maybe it was force to grow accustomed to fame. The rise to fame for most was troubling but for The Slowdown it appeared to be easy. That's how it at least seemed on the outside. Jack seemed to face the most trouble with fame. The media dubbed him as the heartbreaker or ladies' man. So, he had flirted with the wrong people on some occasions but it wasn't him. Every girl he was spotted with was his girlfriend. It took a toll on his real relationship. Another one that the media had to tear down every moment that they could. And Layla. Things were already screwed up between them. The distant attitude e was throwing out, kept her at bay. He didn't ever know what to say when she was needy or wanted some sort of affection from him. Their was a divide between his music and her. One that worried him. With one flick of his wrist, Jack dropped the ash from the cigarette. One more puff would do him good, or so he thought. A long drag cleared his nerves. After the last drag, he dropped the cigarette onto the ground. Stepping on his harshly with his right foot to put any sort of flame out. The studio was quiet when he opened the door. Trey sat with his head down on the table, clicking open a pen. An unfinished song sat staring at Jack. "Fuck, Trey. I can't do this anymore. I need a fucking break. Let's call it a night." Trey mumbled something like thank god. His hand tangled in his hair as he pushed in his chair. Trey had been the one to drive the pair over from Jack's house. In the car, they didn't speak much. Jack played with the dials until he found something decent. A smirk played on his lips as he stopped on a familiar tune. Trey's voice boomed through the stereo, getting an actual groan from the Trey sitting next to him. The distance from his apartment wasn't much. Trey dropped Jack off in the back of the building, just to avoid any one that could've been in the front. "See you tomorrow." Jack slammed the door and took the back stairs up to his apartment.  Inside it was too quiet. Way too fucking quiet, he pulled at his hair as he sat down on the leather couch. It was the quiet which he couldn't be trusted with. He didn't turn on the TV because the sound would annoy him. His body took him to the bathroom. The mirror was showing the old Jack. Bloodshot eyes and a scruffy face. It was like seeing a ghost to him. A ghost of his past that he was missing these days. In the depths of his pocket was something he didn't think he'd ever come in contact with again. One he told himself was bad. A habit that he couldn't get into again. But why was he reaching in his pocket? His mind was screaming at him no too, but the devil on his shoulder was winning. Telling him to relive his past. A past that brought so much greatness to him. The white powder greeted him like an old friend. Leaning over the sink, Jack took a breath like it would be his last. He was out of his mind. The first snort was odd, it had been years since he had indulged in his favorite past time activity. It was the second snort that reminded him of everything that he was missing. With the final snort, his eyes closed. His body slunk down next to the bath tub. Time escaped him after that.  That's when he heard her voice. She was calling him. She sounded close but not beside him. "Fuck. No. Fuck." The kitchen cabinets rattled, he could hear them. He wasn't answering her, maybe if she didn't hear him she would leave. She couldn't see him like this. A knock on the bathroom tore him from his thoughts. "Fuck. Layla. Help me." tagged: @layla notes: sorry this too so long but wow very emotional / i suck listening: ariana grande

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she was hesitant as she made her way around his apartment, she had seen the inside of a tour bus more then she'd ever seen these four walls. for months she had chased him while he was on the road, finding slivers of time in their busy schedules to see each other, making something out of nothing, fighting for a relationship that, realistically, should have fizzled out months ago. time constraints and commitments should have kept them apart but layla fought like she always had to capture a moment or two for themselves. she knew she could be tiring in her pursuit for his time but she had fallen to the wayside too many times before, this time she was fighting for what she wanted and what she wanted was Jack Coffey. the apartment smelt musty, like it had been locked up for months, which it had. the mess was obviously new, probably the habits of someone that was too accustomed to having hotel maids clean up behind them. perhaps she'd hire a maid, she thought to herself. he probably wouldn't even notice someone coming and going to clean up his things. his mind was always somewhere else these days, there was always something more important that he should be doing, somewhere else he had to be. layla had been feeling the distance grow and her panic was rising. she had become more resilient to recent months but his moods were making her regress, making her needy and desperate the more he pulled away. she could only hope that once this album was laid down that things would settle back down again but she wasn't sure they would even last that long. "jack?" she called out again casually, frowning as she heard movement, but still no one showed themselves. she left her bag on the countertop, the whiskey forgotten and tiptoed through the apartment withthe faintest click of her heels on the carpet. "jack?" she called softly, hoping not to disturb him, but he was no where, not in any of the rooms, his bed was messy but still hadn't been slept in, his guitar abandoned on it stand. untouched. she knocked softly on the last door left to try, opening the bathroom door a crack as she called his name softly. what she opened the door to, though it wasn't anything she hadn't seen before, made her heart leap to her throat and her stomach turn. "oh jack..." she whispered softly, heartbreaking disappointment in her voice. she thought she had escaped this. the lines on the sink, that glazed stare, slumped on the bathroom floor it was a scene she had stumbled upon more then once. how many times had she found Lucas unconscious? how many times had he taken it too far? how many times she had screamed and cried and thumped her delicate fists on his chest praying for another breath? it broke her heart that another man she loved should fall victim to the same curse. it had been the downfall of so many people in her life and everytime she thought she had escaped, it would ensnare another. she dropped to her knees beside him, dark eyes clouded with concern and heart racing. "Jack, can you hear me?" she asked as she shook his shoulder. "what are you doing? why are you doing this?" she asked unnecessarily. if he knew the answer, he probably wouldn't have turned back to his drug habit in the first place. "Jack, mon amour, come with me. can you stand?" she wrapped his arm around her shoulders and attempted to stand with him, dragging him to a standing position, which wasn't easily when all you where wearing was a fur coat and a pair of stilettos. she dragged him into his bedroom and sat him on the bed, bending before him she looked up into his startling blue eyes, clouded with demons. "Jack, talk to me. please talk to me.." she pleaded in soft tones. "tell me what to do..." she whispered, unsure if she was talking to Jack or seeking guidance from some higher being. "tell me what you took and how much... do I need to call someone?" her voice was soft and calm but her mind was reeling, fears and panic taking over her heart thumped in her chest so hard and fast she was scared it might break through her ribcage. tagged: jack kearney notes:worst thing i've ever written. i lost the first copy. listening: swifty

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It wasn't the first time Jack had relapsed with drugs. Having been exposed to them at such a young age did so to a boy. The pressure to be better and the cloud of mystery that hung over him. Jack was a runt. Product of a gold digging mom who he loved more than any other woman in his life. A dad who was so involved in work that his secretary became his main focus. No longer would his confused son need him. Dinner tables grew smaller and smaller, eventually his mom stopped cooking. The typical American family that screwed up the future for their only son. He couldn't blame the urge for drugs on his uninvolved parents. They hadn't pushed this path on to him, it just so happened to fall in his hands. No one was around to watch him, care for him, until his father met Hailea's mom. The dark clouded days were gone for just a little bit as she encourage Jack's dad to rebuild a relationship with him. So it was the music essentially. Musicians lost themselves in their music. All senses disappearing when playing the one true love of their life. Rock n' roll, sex and the drugs. It was part of the image, right? One member of the band had to have problems. The Slowdown saved him in a way, from the hardships that would've came he continued to fool around with the addiction. Trey pulled him out of the trash can when he was highest he had ever been. He vowed never to go back. But that's what an addict does. They relapse. And also, lie. Paint It, Black by The Rolling Stones. One of the first songs he learned how to play on the guitar. Their influence still deep within him, coming out in a few of his songs. It was all about the sex for them. His main influence only thought of the sex and the hard lifestyle. Jack knew he was in over his head comparing himself To these bands. One that had more fame then he would ever acquire. The Slowdown was no Rolling Stones. Before the fame and the little following he had, Jack was lost. Lost on top of many women with several different drugs in his possession. The high he got from both things would never amount to anything. Breaking his promise to Trey about trying drugs again. Coke was a weakness, at least in his eyes. No one needed to know each other's weaknesses. Or turning to drugs. Unsure of what route his life was taking him. The Slowdown was all he wanted. All he needed in that matter. It was a long road to getting noticed. Doing some drugs, getting the girls to notice him and strumming on his precious guitar. Layla didn't deserve to see him like this. Tears fresh in his eyes as the drugs took over his body. How could he do this to himself? The look on her face said it all. Disappointment. Her hand covered her mouth, letting out a small gasp and Jack knows he's done it. Scared the girl he's been trying to give his scarred heart too. The questions start to flow out of that sweet mouth of her's. She's not innocent of drug use. Her old boyfriend had much more experience than himself. Heart pounding in his chest, Jack refuses to look at her. It keeps beating, so loud he can't hear her now. Her eyes and voice call him, begging him to look at her. But he's stubborn. Not if she's going to look disappointed. It would break the light heart that he has left. "I just need you.." It's the first time he's spoken to her since his cry for help. She's crouched in front of him, tears leaking from her eyes. One of her arms wraps around him, pulls him to a standing position. "I fucked up. Big time. I don't want you to know." He stills as her hands caress his face, hoping that he looks at her now. "Just stay with me. Tell me you'll stay." Jack's voice is desperate, different than he's been before. But it's the drug that's talking. How much he has taken. The whole little pouch affecting his entire being. "Hold me. Please." His eyes close in and out, but when they open they are met with her brown ones. tagged: @layla notes: look me fucking long enough listening:james blunt

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she's never seen him like this. usually he is confident and bold, she pales in comparison to his enigmatic persona, she fades so easily into the background despite her fame, despite her well known face. he's. rockstar after all; girls fall at his feet, they scream his name, they beg and cry for just a glimpse of him. she'd happily stood in background of this man for months now, proud and silent, knowing that he was the stronger of them. he understood the fame game, he didn't bow beneath the weight of it like she did. he was a marvel to her, moody and prone to tantrums of course, but strong and steadfast. he had his eye on the prize. this side of him though, it was all new to her. it was a side he kept in the dark, that only trey and the others were perhaps privy too. she hadn't the slightest thought that he could be as fragile as she herself, she didn't know that one day she would have to be the strong one. Lucas, in all his messes had never expected that of her. even at his worst he was the strong one, it was her begging and pleading for him not to leave her. death was what he wanted after all, should it have come he would welcome it in his perverse way. if it didn't it was merely another chance to live on, another feather in his cap that he had cheated death. layla wasn't a strong person, she was a people pleaser, bowing to the will of others, letting her own needs fall to the wayside, or even questioning them all together in the light of another. she was desperate for a constant in her life, to find love and someone that would love her as unconditionally as her father. that man was now crumbling in front of her and instead of letting her dreams crumble too she realised a stark and surprising fact. jack was no different then she. she had placed him on such a pedestal that she had trouble accepting his weaknesses, but they were no different from the weaknesses he had accepted in her. he's avoiding her eyes and she can't blame him, she's done the same thing herself when she's seen disappointment in her fathers face. he doesn't answer her questions and she doesn't push, his mind is addled he's on his own tangent. he needs her, he wants her, but he doesn't want her to witness this. she soothes him with soft hushing noises, trying to settle his anxiety. "I'll stay.." she assures him "I'm not going anywhere.." she replies softly. they reach the bed and his voice grows desperate. they eyes meet and she smiles softly, trying to keep the pain and worry from her features so as to placate him. "I'm not going anywhere." she tells him firmly with a brush of her lips over his knuckles that cling tightly to her hand without realising. he pleads for her to hold him and she slides into his arms, slowly and delicately. her head rests on his chest and her arms wrap around him gently. she can hear his heart thumping wildly in his chest and she bits her lip as she listens to his frantic pulse. "you haven't done anything wrong, mon amour." she continues to coo. "you know it'll take more then this for me to stop loving you" she whispers softly, scared of the words they were saying. she wasn't sure if eliciting a response from him in this state or having those words lost in the haze of this event would be more painful but she took the risk anyway. tagged: jack kearney notes:warp speed. listening: my ceiling fan lol

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He felt low. The lowest he's ever felt in his entire life. Maybe that's what encouraged him to take the white powder in his possession. It had been his friend years ago, surely it could be in his life again. But the promise he made still hung over his head. That Jack wasn't here anymore. He no longer depended on the stimulant of a drug to make him happy or to feel something. Or was that Jack gone? It had been ages since he had felt something, truly. The tour had made him numb. He was tired. Tired of the same routine. Though strumming on his guitar for the rest of his life was what he wanted - it just wasn't enough for the moment. The temptations were hard on him. Girls throwing themselves at him, the constant moving around and seeing different places. Mistaken was what he was. Once the side effects were pumping through his bloodstream he was regretting the decision of snorting. Disappointment flushed his face as he cradled his head on the bathroom floor. Not liking who he would become if he went down this road again. Paranoia sketched his mind. The feeling of him never being good enough. Anxiety stirred in the depths of his stomach. His once steady hands shook as he called for her. Shaking back and forth as he cradled his head. Thoughts coming in and out about what he had done. Telling her that he needed her. Something that he had never done before. Relying on someone was never his intention. Jack was supposed to be the strong on. But here she was. Holding him, reassuring him that it would all be okay. But would it be okay? Could anything ever be okay?  He had crossed over the edge, lying to himself that he needed these drugs. That they were his friends. Trey would be disappointed as well as the rest of the band. Crowds were becoming larger, would that mean the fans would be disappointed? Once better, he would make it up to them. To everyone in that manner.  On the bed, he can't get comfortable. Though he's in her arms he can't think about anything else except what's going on his body. Heart rate is sky rocketing and breathing is hard. If he didn't know better he would think that his relapse was filled with an anxiety attack. Jack's restless against Layla's touch, wanting nothing but her touch. Her voice is so slow in his ear- still shushing sweet words into his ear that he can make out this time. "I don't deserve you.." He trails off, with his eyes closed. Heart breaking at the words he's whispering to her. "I really don't fucking deserve you." Layla's eyes are filled with tears just hearing him speak this way. Jack's upset and when he's sober he's going to feel even worse. His hand comes up to her face, lightly grazing her left cheek with his hand. Leaning in to his touch, he can feel how much she loves him. "I'm a terrible guy. You should be with someone better." It pains him to say it, but it's true. She could have anyone she wanted. Despite his feelings towards her, she couldn't keep living like this. The roller coaster of Jack Coffey would tear her apart much like it was doing to him.  tagged: @layla notes: jesus christ i suck listening: some sad music

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layla had done this before and it had all but broken her. Lucas had put her through hell and back, and she had clung to him for the whole journey, merely a passenger along for the roller coaster ride that was Lucas Harvey. he was her drug, he was what made her come back time after time despite what her friends and family said, despite her own better judgement. he broke her done, he pulled her apart and reassembled her in the same haphazard fashion he did everything else in his life, without a second though to her. she was an after thought to him, he was her whole life. she swore she wouldn't do that again. she swore that drugs were a deal breaker from then on out. they had destroyed too many of her relationships, turned too many people she loved against her. but when it came to the crunch, layla couldn't walk away. she couldn't then and she couldn't now. jack was different or so she told herself. like all those times before she chose to cling to the good memories. the time he had sung her namesake song in front of a sold out show, the song he had written just for her, that first night together when he had looked at her with pure and unadulterated awe in his eyes. Jack was different. this was only a stumble, one that she could bring him back from. she could hear it in his words, begging for her forgiveness, for her touch. Lucas had begged for nothing. he did everything will a smug, self satisfied grin and not a single thought to her. this time was different, she wasn't willing to take the chance and let him go even if it wasn't. she bites back tears when he insists he doesn't deserve her. a thought that had washed over her so many times when she had felt hopeless and alone, when his moods were bad or the tour was taking a toll on him. "of course you deserve me.." she replies softly, through sniffs as she strokes his hair. he brings a hand up to her cheek and she leans her face into it, kissing the palm of his hand gently before he lets it fall. he accuses himself of not being good enough and she tuts him softly. "oh hush, stop that. I'm exactly where I belong." she assures him pressing her lips to his forehead. they let silence envelope them for a moment and his eyes droop, she doesn't want him sleeping, she fears a moment when he won't respond or wake up again. she so used to fearing for the worst. "what brought this on? you can tell me..." she asks tentatively, scared to ask but knowing there was something he needed to get off his chest. tagged: jack kearney notes: . listening: air con