Almost Enough

“Chanse, where is she?”

Amanda held the phone tight to her face, as if letting go of the phone meant that she would let go on any piece of composure she could muster.

“I-I don’t know. She told me that she was going to leave and fix whatever happened to you guys. I let her go without thinking anything of it. She was gone for a while and she wasn’t answering any of my texts and I thought maybe she was with you? But she wasn’t, I found her car, but I can’t find her.”

“What do you mean you can’t find her? Where is her car?”

“I received a really scratchy voicemail from her and I got really worried, you literally never know what that bitch is up to. So I went looking for her. I drove for a while and I found her car at a bar, I looked inside and she was gone. I went inside and asked around if anyone had seen her and one person did.”

“Who? Who saw her?”

“Well, the bartender obviously, he said she wouldn’t stop drinking the whole night. Then…”

“Then what Chanse?”

“The bartender said he saw her talking with a man, and she left. Not long after he followed…”

Amanda went pale in the passenger seat. Her mouth opened in shock, her body numb with betrayal. “She wouldn’t. Chanse she would never.”

“I know. That’s why I think she needs our help, I refuse to believe she would go home with anyone but you, Amanda.”

In the backseat Courtney couldn’t help but ask what the conversation was about.

“Amanda, is she okay? What is Chanse saying? Where should Shayne drive to?”

Amanda turned to face Courtney, and she shook her head. She turned back to stare at the road in front of her, and she bit her lip to halt any tears threatening the corners of her eyes. “Chanse, what bar?”

“I’ll send you the address. Please hurry.”

“We will.”

Amanda turned her phone completely off, and in a way, her body as well. Her head swam with possibilities, but only one remained. Angela went home with another person, Amanda no longer was the person she ran to for comfort.

“Mandy…?”

Shayne was quiet, not wanting to overstep the feelings Amanda was forcing down into her stomach, but Courtney needed answers.

“Chanse said she ran out to come home with me. But she didn’t come home. She went to a bar…”

She struggled to get words out in complete sentences, her mind too full to grasp what she heard on the phone.

“...he got worried and went searching for her. He found her car not too far away from his house at a bar. She wasn’t in it, and he went inside. Only one person recognized her and it was the bartender. He said she went home with another man.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“No I’m not. Chanse believes she wouldn’t, and I want to believe that too. But her car is there, and she would’ve called Chanse to pick her up if she was too drunk to drive…”

Her head met her hands, and she rubbed her face hard.

From the driver’s seat Shayne reached over and put his hand on Amanda’s shoulder. “It’s going to be okay, if she really is in trouble we need to find her.”

“But what if she isn’t? What if she’s in another man’s bed? I do not want to find her in the arms of someone else, Shayne. I will never forgive her.”

Courtney piped in, “Let’s not think like that.”

Amanda tried not to, but she couldn’t help it.

~
Angela stumbled out of the bar, trying her best to seem as sober as possible. The rain stopped, and in its absence were puddles laying on the pavement, neon reflections of the bar bleeding into them. The weight of her choices, the weight of alcohol settled deep inside of her.

Her mind zeroed in on the only thing in Angela’s life that truly mattered. Auditions, gigs, performing, none of it mattered as long as she could do it with Amanda there beside her. She was only a drive away from her, but in her state it would not be smart to drive. So, she called Chanse.

Or at least, she tried to.

Her words were slurred, and her sleeves muffled the sound, so it just sounded like, “Chanse..mmhh..mphhhpmmh”

She felt satisfied after the call and waited for him in her car.

Then, someone tapped on the window. It was the man from the bar. Without thinking she got out of the car, there was no use being inside since she wasn’t driving. Plus he can keep her company while Chanse comes for her. “Hey, do you need a ride home? You shouldn’t drive like this.”

“No, I'm okay. My friend is coming to get me.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

The man did not leave, and he closed the space between him and Angela. His eyes were dark, his stance predatory. This was not the same man that was talking to her earlier. Or was it? She probably could have seen it better if she wasn’t so drunk.

“Come with me.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I have someone waiting for me at home. Someone who loves me.”

“I love you.”

“No you don’t, you don’t know me. Get away.” Angela, in her state of mind, pushed him.

The man was taken aback, and he tried to get closer to her, and attempted to grab her arms.

“Stop! Get off of me.” Angela struggled underneath him, and with all of the strength she had in her body, she kicked him. He moved to grab her again, but she ducked. And she ran. Her legs almost gave out beneath her, but adrenaline pushed her forwards. Her pulse slammed against her throat as she ran for her life.

Everything blurred around her, and her lungs ached at the lack of oxygen. She has no idea if the man followed her, but she wasn’t going to bother looking back. She had no idea where to go, it was a short drive from Chanse’s, but most definitely a long run there.

She took a moment to stop, and to breathe, and that is when she heard the heavy footsteps behind her. They were fast, and they were gaining on her. The man caught up to her, he attempted to grab at her back, his fingers lightly grazing her spine. She did not hesitate again, she bolted.

Her instincts screaming louder than the alcohol that tried to dull her senses, she is full body sprinting now, every fiber of her body locked into survival mode.

She spots a row of buildings to her right, and sees a small alley to turn into. She takes a sharp turn, her ankle catching underneath her, she slips on the pavement, white hot pain shooting up from where her ankle now lay fractured beneath her. She screamed, forgetting who she was running from. Around her were trash cans, a fire escape, and a dead end. This was it.

She looked down at her ankle, now turning bright purple, it swelling up beneath her, and she started to cry.

Her body collapsed, the adrenaline wearing off, and once again she found herself looking up. This time at the stars above her, the ones managing to escape through tiny pockets in the clouds. She can hear the man yelling. Is this the end for her?

No it wasn’t. Angela was not going to give up, it was not in her nature. Only a few feet in front of her was the fire escape, and she made her decision. She crawled over to it, and as she reached the bottom rung of the ladder, the man finally found her. He raced over to her, and she climbed. She gripped the ladder, scrambling up as fast as she could in her inebriated state, her ankle dangling lifelessly.

Her arms were shaking, and she was terrified. The man moved over to the ladder, and right before he could put his hands on it, his arms reaching, she kicked the ladder. The rusted bolts barely screwed together collapsed, it jerked loose from the building it was attached to. She managed to reach the rooftop, throwing herself over, rolling onto her back. Her chest heaving.

She heard the man snarl from the ground below, but eventually there was silence. Then, the sound of footsteps retreating into the night. She doesn’t dare get up to look, and even if she wanted to, she couldn’t. Her ankle hurt her so bad, and the fight with the man was over. But now she had a new fight to face.

How the hell was she supposed to get down from here?