Defeat (verb): win a victory over (someone) in a battle or other contest; overcome or beat.

Now

Montana

Sierra and I end up at one of the oldest bars in the city that we used to go to when I wasn't trekking around the world. It's never busy on the week days except for a couple of unmarried, middle aged, men and women sharing their sorrows with each other and getting it on in the dingy bathroom stalls.

I get calls from my manager so I turn my phone off, Sierra and I throwing back shots faster than we breathe. A group of other drunks surrounding us at the bar cheer us on occasionally.
In a world full of critics, we needed more people who cheer us on. I come to the conclusion that everyone should get drunk in order to attain world peace.

"I think my stomach is gonna flip." Sierra chuckles, burping into her hand after I've told her my revelation about world peace.

A woman who is sat on the stool next to me starts to sob into her glass, "I really love your hair." she sniffles. "Why are you crying then?" I ask, not surprised that she was so far gone she would cry about hair. All of us in here were a bit defeated at the life game.

"It's so luscious and beautiful." She slurs through her sobs, twirling a strand of my hair around her finger.

"Thanks babe, but, can I know, who broke your heart?" I inquire and she gulps down the rest of her drink.

"My co-worker said I wasn't pretty enough for him, what shampoo do you use?" She frowns.

"Whatever shampoo I can find really. And you have wonderful hair too." I pat her arm and she joins us in the chugging contest without further elaboration of her problems.

"You know what sucks?" I ask Sierra.

"What?"

"I actually never let anyone break my heart. Even Dylan said it, I didn't let anything bring me down!" I slam my open palm against the wooden bar to help with this statement, "-but look at me now. I suck." I lay my head on my hand with exasperation because it's getting too heavy, the marching band inside it is getting ferocious with the pounding.

"It's going to happen at some point. Now or never right?" Sierra shakes her head, staring off at nothing in front of her.

"It wasn't supposed to happen to me."

"Life doesn't happen to you! It happens for you." the woman quotes, her sorrows about my hair forgotten now.

Sierra turns to me on her stool, taking my hands in hers while I try to rack my brain for the famous person who said that. It was that guy with the green face I think.

"You might be a queen, and a soldier, but you aren't invincible baby, no one is. But it's not defeat either, it's just harsher...circumstances." Sierra reasons.

Before the tears in my eyes can spill over, our next round of drinks get served and I grab the glass off the counter, gulping it down with the lump in my throat.

We drink until the sun disappears and the woman next to me leaves and Sierra keeps rubbing my back every time she sees a shiver go down my spine because of the violent sobs I'm suppressing despite my body giving in to the alcohol.

The bartender calls Luke and he comes to pick us up, "You guys are so shitfaced. Who died?" He asks but then apologizes for using that term, shaking his head when he sees that we can't get off our seats without stumbling.

"You're a shit face." I poke at his chest and Luke rolls his eyes. "I didn't know you were back." He says and leads us both into the car outside, his arms around our waists so we don't face plant the floor.

In the car, Sierra let's me sleep with my head on her lap as Luke drives in the front. I drum my fingers on her knees, my mind was buzzing, I hated that even when I was this drunk, I couldn't stop the thoughts or the anger. It was like my archenemy. I was pretty sure if I dipped my brain in alcohol until it was soiled it would still be a treacherous piece of meat.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck."

"Writing a song back there I see." Luke laughs, looking back at us in his rearview mirror.

"Shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up." I sing song and Sierra bursts out with laugher. After awhile she starts singing a song I don't know and Luke joins in too, their voices were like a perfect symphony. I listen to them quietly until it lulls me to sleep.

~

Calum

A week after being back at the center, Luke drags me to yet another fashion show after our interviews this morning. I mean, I was all for supporting Sierra and keeping him company but I really wasn't feeling up for the whole cameras and clothes thing today.

"Do you want to overdose or something?" I hear Luke ask when I tune back into the conversation as he parks the car and we get out.

"You can always find a new bassist." I pat him on the back and he glares at me. While we wait for the elevator, he looks me up and down, judging my jeans and shirt. He then reaches for my hair but I swat it away, "Aye, I let you drag me here, don't touch the hair." I huff.

When we make it up to the headquarters, the rush of activity gives me an instant headache in new record time. "Where is Sierra's office?" I ask Luke, not wanting to hang around for the pre-show

"Second door down that corridor, I'll come get you when it's time," he points and disappears into the throng of people. So much for not ditching me.

People rush past me, a model I know winks at me but she gets pulled away when she tries to stop and talk. I find Sierra's office and walk in to see that the curtains are drawn and there's only a table lamp turned on. She isn't here, if she was, this room would be glaringly bright.

Thankful for the quiet, I close the door and plop down on the couch, resting my head on a throw pillow. My phone beeps with a text and I hope it's not Luke telling me to come back again. I squint at the screen to see that it's a message from Cass.

"Heard you're back, come see me ;)."

I want to text her back and say I don't ever want to see her but I pause when Sierra's office door opens and a guy who I'm guessing is yet another one of her models, walks in laughing. A brown head of hair follows him in a second later, her laughter and voice resonating through the room and into my bones, it gets in my blood and rushes to my brain where it clicks into place. Why was she here?

"He was going on an on about it," Montana is saying, looking down at her phone. She doesn't notice the guy she was talking to has stopped walking and bumps right into him. She looks up, her gaze following his to me, "Hi." the guy waves at me, no doubt recognizing who I am and Montana's joy disappears along with it.

"Hi." I croak silently, involuntarily. She was laughing, she was smiling, and I wiped it out in a millisecond. Just my presence stopped her joy completely.

I get off the couch and walk out of the room in six strides. I count the strides, even when I pass by her and her perfume engulfs me like it always has. "What's his problem?" I hear the guy ask and I all but run down the corridor, locking myself up in one of the bathrooms. Air refuses to leave my lungs and I slam the wall next to the door with my fists, pins and needles furiously going up my arms.

"Breathe, breathe." I order my lungs and when I feel like my brain isn't going to implode, I do something I have refused to do in six months, three weeks and two days.

With my chest still heaving with labored breaths, I pull out my phone and text Cass. "I'll be there in fifteen."

---

Don't do this

Don't do this

This is not right

I knock on Cass' door and she opens it, wrapping me up me in her bony arms, her blonde hair itching at my skin.

Don't do this

This is not right

She will come back

No she will not

Cass had a boyfriend, but she doesn't care, she never has and I don't care either as she pulls me in and locks the door, her lips finding mine. I haven't seen her in almost a year but she doesn't hesitate, she knows what I'm here for.

Cass' lips aren't like hers, they don't make me weak, they make me hate myself. This isn't right.

I thought I would have forgotten the feeling of sex, and her limbs wrapped around my own. But I haven't, it haunts my dreams and my daydreams and fractures my heart in the middle. I haven't felt it for six months, not since she left.

I think about how I haven't forgotten any of it as Cass strips off my clothes and makes me touch her skin, I think of how it isn't the kind of smooth hers was. It wasn't right.

It will always be her, because I found myself not trying to say her name when Cass had her teeth against my neck and her body aligned with mine. I thought of how it didn't fit like the puzzle we had made with our love. It wasn't right.

I don't have to try and control my heartbeat when Cass sleeps on my chest with her legs wrapped around me because I don't love her, and it wasn't right.

Cass didn't consume my entire being, she didn't quiet my mind or stop me from wanting to run, it just wasn't right. I gently move her limbs away from me with defeat and move a pillow under her head. "I'm sorry." I whisper to Cass and leave a kiss on her cheek when I leave her there.

It won't ever be right with anyone, because it will only ever be her.

A/N:

You guys don't leave comments sadly so I actually have no idea if you are liking this so far or not. Feedback is a writers greatest motivation x