A month passes with me not even noticing at first, but each night we play that same person is there. He always orders the same thing—a couple pieces of pizza and a drink if he’s feeling rich—and then spend the whole night listening to my band. Each time he sees me look at him, his face will shift…what little I can see as he always sits in the dimly lit section of the booths, like he is ashamed to be seen. Part of me enjoys the attention, the other part of me is scared that I have somehow found myself a stalker in Skin Row of all fucking places. I guess this place attracts all sorts of shit people, so a stalker probably wouldn’t be anything new. My dreams lately have been a mix of depressing and sometimes different realities where my life hadn’t taken such a shitty turn. Me with a family of my own, my own house, a job I could be proud of. Anon was in them as well, like nothing had gone wrong, our time not ending in a fucking disaster and him disappearing from the whole world. He’s probably dead right now, taken out either by fast food or a desperate junkie looking for their next fix. I thought it’d make me happy to think about him being gone for good, but I don’t feel anything—the void in my chest still hangs where my heart used to be. Naser had called me yesterday and the conversation was at least a bit uplifting. Not that it ever lasts long before my indifference crushes every good feeling. Grunting, I pull myself up off the couch, my clothes loosely hanging from my body. I pull at my shirt and notice I’ve gotten even thinner. It’s been hard to even eat my nuggies these days, the lack of food making me sluggish and shaky. I nearly fell down the stairs yesterday trying to go to work. I sigh as I steady myself and go to the kitchen—if nothing else, I need to get something in me or else I won’t be able to perform. I have a special song I wrote a couple weeks ago, and tonight is the best time to play it before I waste away into nothing. Dave has noticed my deteriorating state, trying to give me even more food, but it just ends up in the trash. Pulling a can of soda out of the fridge and a couple stale slices of pizza, I work my way through it, forcing myself to eat every last bite regardless of how little I want to. It settles roughly in my stomach, my guts trying to return it to sender, but I stifle down the nausea before stumbling my way to the shower. I limply throw my clothes on the floor and step into my shower. I brace myself up against the wall with one arm as I let the water cascade over my body. Even as the tepid water flows over me, it still feels better than nothing, my shaved scalp offering no resistance to the streams of water. Soap and water, the bare minimum…not like I have any hair left to wash. I stay in the water for at least twenty minutes, staring off into nothing, my thoughts drifting into dark places in my mind. Sighing, I finally turn off the water and step back out of the shower, grabbing a barely clean towel to dry off with before flinging it to the floor. I stare deeply into the mirror at my gaunt reflection. My ribs show through my scales now, my stomach only rounded because of what food I just ate. My eyes are growing duller by the day, the amber sheen a mere glint. I had to give it a break with the cigarette burns to my arms before Dave started noticing. I don’t know how much longer I can last like this. All I know for certain is if I don’t turn things around soon, this apartment will be my tomb like it must have been for so many others. I weakly reach out for my eye liner and lipstick; my hands shaky as I do everything I can to steady them so I don’t look like a fucking mess. Somehow, I manage to keep it looking pretty good with how little strength I have. Pulling on my clothes, same outfit as every other day, I feel a small bit of energy returning as my body absorbs what little food I’ve been able to keep down. I hope it will be enough to get me through tonight’s performance, then I’ll have another lonely weekend to hopefully pull myself back together before I die on this floor. I walk back into the living room, grab my bass case and sling it over my shoulder, causing me to stumble down onto one knee. Raptor Jesus, is it really this bad that the weight of my bass can knock me to the floor? The grim reality of my increasingly bad situation steadies itself in my mind. Am I really going to die of malnutrition of all things? Fuck me. Of all the ways to go, this would be the most pathetic. But even then, I can only just bring myself to eat enough to stay on two feet, let alone gain any weight. A tear slides down my cheek and drops to the floor as I struggle back to my feet. I need to go tonight. I wrote that song. I can’t let it die with me if this is really how things are going to end. Steadying myself after getting up, I take a deep breath, spying a protein bar on the counter that Benji had given me and devouring it in one bite. Hopefully that will be enough to get me through what I hope isn’t my last song. Though at the same time, would I really care? I suppose not. My life has been one disappointment after another…at least this way it will end with some kind of beauty to it. I push open my door, turning to lock it behind me before carefully walking down the steps. I do not need to die by falling down the stairs, splattering across the concrete in the middle of this decrepit building. Finally making it to the bottom of the steps, I turn down the sidewalk, taking the walk I have so many times before, I swear I’ve worn a rut into the concrete by now. The trip is as desolate as usual, the same beggars lining up for a coin from above, the rain yesterday having left a sea of rotting cardboard and puddles in the alleys. As I make it to the pizzeria, I have at least gained a good chunk of energy from the protein bar, enough to have made the walk go by a bit faster. I slide inside the side door, trying to make my way to the backroom without being seen but Dave catches sight of me and calls out to me. “Fang! Can you come here a second?” He stands expectantly by the fridge with his arms crossed, a look of worry on his face. I sigh and go over to him. He’s still my boss so I can’t go blowing him off. I tiredly turn my eyes up to his with a wan smile. “What is it, Dave? Something on your mind?” I don’t want to have another one of these conversations, but it’s not like I have much of a choice. He frowns as he looks me over, my physical state having only gotten worse. “Jesus, Fang. There is barely anything left of you. Have you been eating the food I’ve sent you home with?” I nod weakly. “I have, Dave. Every little bit I could get in me, I promise. I’m in a really rough patch right now. I’m sorry…I promise I’ll be okay. Please, don’t worry about me. I’ll still be here every day. I only need time to recover from this funk.” Don’t send me home please, I need to do this tonight…. He looks me over again still with a frown on his face, but he eventually relents and puts a hand on my shoulder. “Alright Fang, I’ll trust you. But please, if you need anything just ask me. I’m here for you, whatever I can do to help.” I place my hand on his, attempting to allay his fears. “Thank you, Dave. I appreciate the offer but don’t worry. I’ll be fine. A little more rest and food will do me good later tonight, but for now I’ve got a show to do.” I sway the case on my shoulder side to side to make a point. I need to be here tonight, no matter what. He sighs and pulls his hand from my shoulder, letting me pass. “Alright, go give them a great show like ya do every night.” I smile and turn back toward the break room. The rest of the band was already here getting their stuff squared away. I told them I had an important song to play tonight, so they let me rest a little more and took care of all the stage work. They both turn to me as I enter, worried looks on their faces as if I haven’t gotten enough of those already this week. Benji pipes up first. “Hey Fang, we got it all ready for you. All you gotta do is plug in when you are on stage and we’ll be good to go.” He shoots me a thumbs up while putting his guitar strap in place. Jacob turns from the sandwich he is chowing down on to nod. “Yep, we’re here for ya, Fang. We’ll do our normal set and then you can end on that special song you wrote.” I smile softly at them both. These two dweebs will never know how much they’ve helped me make it these past few years. With them, I at least have a creative outlet to get something out of me before the worst happens, whatever that would be. “Thanks guys, I need this to go well tonight. I can’t promise we are going to end on a happy note, but I’ve needed to get this out for a long time and right now felt like the best fucking time for it.” I sling my case onto the couch before popping open the latches and pulling out my bass. I had spent a good chunk of yesterday shining it up and making sure the strings were perfectly tuned. I wonder if I’ll have my little audience member tonight. I hope so, since they might be the only one that wants to hear what I have to sing tonight. Draping the strap across my shoulder, I stand up as straight as I can. “Come on guys, let’s go give them a show to remember.” They both nod happily and follow me out to the stage. They weren’t joking, the whole thing was immaculately set up with not a thing out of place. I plug in my bass before looking out into the crowd. We have a decent number tonight; Friday is always a little more packed since most get paid today and pick up a few pizzas for the rest of the week. I scan the room to see if my maybe-stalker-admirer is out in the crowd, and I see him in the back as usual. He has his drink already and pizza was probably going to be out to him in a few moments. Well, here goes nothing. I at least have an alright crowd to play to if this is the last night I’ll be playing anything. With a nod to my band, we play a few of our normal songs to warm the crowd up before I get to the one that means something to me. It’ll break their hearts when they hear it, but it’s how I feel right now: cold, alone, desolate, and hopeless. I want something to dream about and all I can dream of these days is misery and futures I’ll never have. The audience didn’t thin out as usual…guess the urgency in my singing is attracting their attention for once. After we get through a couple more songs, I turn to them and give them the signal that it is time. They both take their places and the light dims, solely lighting up me in my fragile state upon the stage. I look sad, broken, hurt, and shattered. The perfect representation of how I am inside. A tear falls down my cheek as I lean up to the microphone and start to sing a song that comes from the depths of my heart. Our hearts were entwined, full of love Hopes as high as the sky above Nothing to stop us from dreaming But then my wishes - my life - my everything fell Lost in the darkness, far from light's gleaming Lost in the darkness, lost in black screaming How I want to dream again, to feel again But how can I dream, standing alone in the rain Oh god how I need to dream again, to feel again Please let me once again dream without pain On that beach we shared our lives Our love and our future Then in an instant you opened wounds Time alone could not suture Cold misery killing my heart and soul Daggers stabbed into my body left a gaping hole My dreams died alone that dark night Grains of sand from the beach filled my heart with spite How I want to dream again, to feel again But how can I dream, standing alone in the rain Oh god how I need to dream again, to feel again Please let me once again dream without pain I left you behind, frozen inside A withered husk, my heart dead and dried Bleeding still, my soul impaled by a knife Suffocated by desires I never can tell I'm desperate to heal, but bound by your life A branching pathway ahead, bordered by strife How I want to dream again, to feel again But how can I dream, standing alone in the rain Oh god how I need to dream again, to feel again Please let me once again dream without pain Please, please let me dream Please… Please let me dream again As I sing every verse, my body quakes. Tears stream down my face as I let my heart be on display. The somber tone of my voice and the soft rumbling sounds of my instrument combined into a melody that left not a single eye dry in the audience. If it is to be my swan song, it is the most beautifully painful way it can end. I open myself up to the whole world, calling out for healing, desperately wanting to feel something more again, to care again, to dream. My hands glide across the strings of my bass, adding weight and depth to my words. My beak shakes as I hold my composure together as best I can. A final note strings out across the room from my bass as I hold the last word, letting it linger before finally turning my head down to the floor. To my amazement, I get a few soft cheers and claps from the audience. I can hear their sniffles and for a moment I feel like a real musician again, someone who has a life ahead of them rather than just one disappointing show after another. My eyes land upon my one constant audience member. He is a wreck, trying hard to clap as tears stream down his face. It is odd…as he leans forward into the light a little more, I almost think I know him but that isn’t possible. No one I know lives here except the people that work here. It is just a coincidence, nothing more. I pull the mic to my lips and smile. “Thank you, everyone. That song meant a lot to me, and I was happy to share it with you as painful as it was to sing about my life. That’s the end of the show tonight…I hate to leave you on a bittersweet note but that’s all we had left. Thank you and good night!” I wave to the crowd, bowing weakly as all my strength was spent with that song. I earn a couple more claps and cheers before turning to my bandmates who are drying tears on their sleeves. “You go on ahead, Fang. We’ll take care of clean up,” Benji says, his tear-stained eyes reddening. Jacob can’t say anything other than nod in agreement as he fights hard to keep his face dry. “Thanks guys. I think…I think I’m going to go sit by the beach tonight. A little one off the road close by. Listening to the waves would do me some good.” I unstrap my bass and give them both a hug before heading into the back room. I gently place my bass in the case, latching it up and slinging it back over my shoulder before turning around right into Dave, who is looking down at me with tears in his eyes. He doesn’t say a word as he puts his arms around me and pulls me into a hug. I can’t do anything other than hug him back, a few tears staining his apron. He never says anything. He doesn’t need to. The look in his eyes lets me know he knows exactly what I just revealed to everyone this night—my broken heart. We delicately end our embrace with me giving him a tearful smile, him doing the same. He stands aside and I make my way out the side door and walk toward the beach. It is empty as usual, save for the trash scattered about on the sands. It’s not like the other beaches in Volcaldera…not a soul ever comes down here to clean up. Mostly because no one was crazy enough to try while worrying about getting shanked by a junkie. After setting my bass down beside me, I take a seat on a concrete bench. My performance brought me some catharsis, but it also re-opened old wounds, bringing every bit of that night back to me in full force as I silently suffer alone with tears streaming down my cheeks. At least I’ve told my story. If nothing else, if I really do die soon, people out there know me now, and they won’t forget the little pterodactyl woman on that stage this night. As I listen to the waves crashing on the shore, I can hear steps behind me. If it is a murderer coming to take my life, I decide not to bother to do anything to stop them. I feel so content in this moment of clarity, my life told out in song and nothing can take it from me. Death will just be another world to explore if anything those religious people told me is true. I am ready for it. But as I wait for a knife to find its way into my ribs, nothing comes. The footfalls stop a dozen feet away. Finally, I hear someone speak. “That song was beautiful. I don’t think I’ve ever heard something so painful yet alluring in all of my years.” The voice seems familiar, but I don’t turn around yet. I am too absorbed in the afterglow following the show. “Thank you. It is the real story of my life. Of how in one night everything I had hoped for died in an instant. One argument bringing me to where I am now…here in Skin Row, waiting for the end to come.” A pained smile spreads on my face as my tattered wings flutter in the ocean breeze, the saltwater mist dusting across my face. “I don’t think I’ll ever hear anything as graceful as that again if this is where it would end for you. Which I don’t think it will. You’re far too special a person for life to end so miserably. Fang…” It is the way he says my name that strikes through my core. Every feeling comes rushing back as the realization hits me of who this person is. I stand up and I slowly turn around to face who I know can be no one else but… “It can’t be…Anon…?” The name leaves my lips in a painful tear. I want to hate him. I want to scream at him right now, but I can’t find it in me, not yet. Here he is, after four years. After disappearing from my life following that night on the beach, where all we shared ended in such a shitty way. He doesn’t turn away from me, he simply stares right into my eyes. I can see the shame in them, the misery, the regret. He looks terrible, bloodshot eyes with heavy bags under them. He is physically stronger, that is for certain. I am not sure where he has been, but it has done nothing bad for his physique. Yet, still, he barely looks like he is here, a man out of place with nothing left to live for yet pushing on just like I have been. I can see the scars on his wrists peeking out from his pulled-up sleeves—he has made attempts of his own to escape from whatever hell he is living through. “Fang, I—” I hold up my hands, stopping him. “Don’t…don’t you dare talk yet.” He shuts his mouth immediately and waits for me. I quietly stand in place, my whole body shaking as I stare daggers at him. As much as there is a piece of me that still cares, I am furious and I need to get it out. Staring straight into his eyes with all the pain and fury I can muster, I point a claw at his chest. “You come back now?! After four fucking years!? Four years after shitting all over me, insulting me, and then disappearing off the face of the Earth!” I move closer to him with my fists clenched tight. “Why Anon? Why the fuck did you do that to me?! Did everything we had together mean nothing?” My face twists in rage and sorrow as I glare at him. “Or are you here to tear me down some more?! What else is there left to take? Look at me!!!” I spread my arms wide and stretch out my tattered wings to their full pitiful span. Tears stream down my face, my body trembling as I let him take in the view of my shattered form. My nigh-featherless wings and gaunt shape, the luster in my eyes long since dulled. “There is nothing left to hurt! Just a broken body with a dying soul devoid of any hopes and dreams. Slowly wasting away to nothing as I can barely even eat anymore! You were everything to me! We were supposed to go against the world together! But you broke me! You tore my heart out and stamped it into dust! I lost everything, everything that mattered to me, and all that remains is a miserable husk scarcely able to be called alive.” I slump to the ground, my knees hitting the sand as I sob. I stare up at him with my teeth bared as I try to focus through the tears. “Why did you do it, Anon? Why did you do that to us? Why didn’t you ever come back and try to make things right? Why…why did you leave me so alone? Why didn’t you come back?” I bury my face in my hands as tears pour from me. I am breaking down on a beach once again, the man who I had loved so much and yet had hurt me so badly right in front of me, again, after four fucking years. I hear the sand crunching as he lowers himself down on his knees beside me. He looks me square in the eyes as I pull my hands away to glance at him. Tears are pouring from him and I can see that every bit of pain I unleashed hit its mark. We stare at each other for a few moments that stretches out into an eternity before I pull him into an embrace. So many more things need to be said, so much more pain to get out in the open but right now, none of it matters. My arms slide around his back as I press him against me and I rest my head against his shoulder. I need to feel something, something more than the emptiness I’ve lived with for so long. He cautiously wraps his arms around my back, holding me as we both sob in each other’s arms. The pain and regret of four years of mistakes pours out of us. It goes on for minutes but feels like so much longer. I grip the back of his shirt tightly as he does mine. Loud shaky sobs pour from my beak as for the first time in years I feel something more than apathy—I feel sad, but I feels so good as I let it all out. After a while we slowly leave our embrace and he stands back up, helping me back on my feet. Anon looks at me before taking a moment to think before he speaks. “Fang, I can never make up for that night. I can never undo the shit I said when I was drunk and stupid. I’ve had four years to think about how badly I hurt you, how I fucked up the only good thing I had in my life, and how much I wanted to just shove it aside and forget everything about you because I thought I deserved and wanted to be alone. But I was fucking wrong, Fang! I was fucking wrong about everything. I’m so sorry for what I said. I can’t take it back and pretend it didn’t happen. I can just tell you how fucking sorry I am that I hurt you like that.” He shakes with every sentence, each word as heartfelt as the last. I can see it in his eyes, he is broken and miserable and above all else, he is sorry. I take his hands in mine, causing him to jump a little. He stares into my eyes as I do his. My face is an expression of sorrow but also of great relief…to hear such things even after so many years. I swallow the knot in my throat before speaking again. “Anon…I accept your apology…” His eyes are swimming in tears as he listens to me. “And I apologize as well, for treating you like shit at the concert and not caring about you when you had been knocked the fuck out. But…” I can see the apprehension in his face as he lingers on that word. “We can’t just go back to the way things were…not yet. There needs to be time to heal and for us to maybe build back what we had again. I’m not ruling anything out nor am I throwing you aside…I’m willing to give our friendship another chance and perhaps things might work out. Who knows?” I shrug and smile at him. He dries his tears with his sleeve before turning back to me with a smile on his face. “I’d…I’d like that, Fang. I didn’t come down here thinking you’d just jump back into my arms and we’d be boyfriend and uh…partner.” He stumbles on the last word, and I smirk up at him. “I’m not non-binary, Anon. Long story, but…I’m glad you cared enough to try. And yeah, you didn’t expect us to just slide back into boyfriend and…girlfriend, and you would be right. There is a lot of healing for us to do before that could even remotely be in the picture but for now…” I hold his hands tightly in mine. “A friendship is a wonderful place to start, don’t you think?” He nods with a huge grin on his face, sniffling back a few tears. “Yeah, I think it’s the best thing to happen to me in over four fucking years, Fang. Do you play at Pizza Time every night?” “Every weeknight. The weekends are my days off, such as they are. Not that I really do anything outside of work and playing music.” “So, do you think maybe we could hang out a bit on the weekends? As friends, of course. Skin Row is a lot less scary in a group.” He laughs sheepishly with a small hint of a blush dusting his cheeks. I smile at him again and nod. “Sounds great to me Anon, it’s been a shitty lonely four years. I could use some hang-out time with a friend. Do you live here too?” “Yeah, funnily enough in the same crap apartment I lived in before…yet somehow it’s even worse, if you can believe it.” “I definitely could, dweeb. I’ve been living here since you left and Skin Row has only gone even more downhill since.” I can see him trying to look away as I call him dweeb; I guess it still holds some emotional meaning for him even now. “I live right over there.” I point to the nearly falling apart structure down a couple blocks. “Trust me, you haven’t seen shitty till you’ve seen the hallways of that place.” He laughs, letting my hands go before putting his in his pockets. “You still got your phone?” “Mmhmm, same one same number. Give me yours though. I kind of…well, you know.” “Yeah, I didn’t expect you to keep it after how shit went down.” He quickly tells me his number and I type it into my contacts before slipping my phone into my pocket. “Well, I need to go get some sleep, Anon, but…text me sometime, okay? We’ve got a lot of catching up to do and a lot of hatchets to bury.” “You got it, Fang. I’ll catch you tomorrow?” I nod, grabbing my bass from the bench, sharing one last hug before going our separate ways. We turn back one more time and stare at each other—two broken souls looking for a way to heal, and perhaps we have finally found it. I give him one last smile before leaving and going back up into my apartment. It is still a shithole, but it is my shithole and right now I couldn’t give any fucks whatsoever about how crap it is. I am on cloud nine. I have a chance now to fix my broken life and maybe just maybe put all that crap behind me. I clear off my table and set out a freshly heated pizza and tear into it. My hunger is returning, and I am fucking ravenous. After nearly inhaling two boxes of pizza, I finally slump over on my couch. I check my phone and see a little text pop up saying Test. The fucking dweeb. I text back a quick Passed before letting my phone drop onto the couch. I am exhausted and I desperately need some sleep, but at least for the first time in a long time I feel like there is maybe something about my life I can change, that maybe that song doesn’t have to be the last thing I ever do. Life could be worth living again, with a tiny spark of hope.