“I hereby sentence, Marlena Evans to 28 days in a Rehabilitation Center with 300 hours of community service for a DWI and recklessly driving into someone else’s property. Court dismissed,” the judge spoke as she banged her gavel against its post.
“That’s crap!” Marlena said outraged. “By all means your honor, I was not drunk. I was in a rush, I had to be at an appointment and I was frantic.”
“Miss. Evans, if you weren’t drunk, how did you manage to have a blood alcohol level of .10?” the judge replied turning around.
“Magic,” Marlena smiled.
“Miss. Evans, get out of my court room before I throw your butt in jail,” the judge said, rolling her eyes and walking out of the room.
Marlena spun around to face her lawyer, her blonde hair falling gently over her eyes. Her hair was disheveled from her run in with alcohol the night before, her suit wrinkled from having dressed in the car, late due to another hang over.
“Mickey, you’re my lawyer, you’re supposed to get me off of these sentances. Do you really think that I can sit around in some rehab clinic, chanting about life? Hello, do you not realize that I run an advertising agency?”
“Marlena, do you not realize that this is your 5th DWI in about seven months? I’ve gotten you off four times, I’ve told you time and time again if you pull this stunt again, I’m letting you take any punishment the judge sentances you with. Sorry darling, I took away your get out of jail free card, deal with it,” Mickey said simply. “I’ll send the limo to your apartment tomorrow morning to take you to rehab.”
“A limo to rehab? Yeah I won’t stick out like a sore thumb,” she muttered, grabbing her bag and walking out of the court room.
——————————————————————————
————
“Allie, it’s 28 days. I am begging you, please take over my client load until I get back. It’s like four clients. My major clients are in Europe for the next two months, I need you to handle Myers and Fitch, new clothing company, obviously a ripoff of Abercrombie and FItch, throw some crap on a piece of paper and say it’s the ‘new look.’ They’re idiots, they’ll buy it in a second. As for my other clients, just give them what you think they wanna see. You’ve been my right hand for the past four years, I trust you,”
Marlena spoke into her phone, as she finished packing her bag.”Fine, fine,” Allie muttered. “So what clinic are you going to anyway?”
“Jacob and something Rehabilitation something or other.”
“Oh My God? Marlena, is it Jacob and Figette’s Rehabilitation Center?” Allie squealed.
“Yeah I guess so, why? Wanna come and join me?”
“Marlena, do you even know who just went into rehab there?”
“Ghandi? No wait, I think he died awhile ago,” Marlena teased, throwing her bag in front of the door.
“Funny hon. No *the* John Black is there.”
“Who the hell is John Black?” Marlena asked, checking her watch.
“Girl, you need to get out of the office more!”
“I do, it’s called Tequila Sunrise, amazing bar, best shots of Tequila I have ever had . . .”
“Whatever,” Allie interrupted her. “John Black is God’s gift to women! He’s the solo guitarist in ‘Black Death Suicide’ and has been on the cover of Rolling Stone like three times. He has these amazing blue eyes that give you the chills and a full head of black gorgeous hair . . .”
“Allie, get a life,” Marlena stopped her. “The only man I want right now is Jack Daniels or Samuel Adams but do I get them? No, because I get to spend the next 28 days in rehab, oh how exciting,” she said sarcastically. “My limo is here, I’ll give you a call later this week about work. Good luck.”
“You too and Marlena?”
“Yeah.”
“One look at John Black and I promise you, the only man you will ever want is him . . .”
“Yeah, we’ll see about that,” she muttered, hanging up the phone, taking one last look at herself in the mirror before heading out to meet her fate.
Marlena walked into the spacious center, looking around. Group meetings were being held in the main lobby, chanting being heard from every corner of the room. She shifted uncomfortably, placing her bag on the floor. She had been through a lot in her life . . . her father had molested her when she was five, her mother left when she was eight, but through it all she was more scared now than she had ever been before. She had always had some type of an escape . . . first with the magical land of television, working her way up to sex and alcohol as she got older. But all that was there for her now was help . . . something she didn’t want and didn’t think she needed.
“Well, well a new girl, let me guess, you’re in for murder?” a man asked walking up behind Marlena.
“Wh . . .what? I thought this was a drug/alcohol clinic, my lawyer never said anything about murder!”
He laughed casually and pulled her to the side of the room to avoid the rampage, as a session had just gotten finished. “I was kidding, girl. Name’s Bo, Bo Brady. So what are you in for?”
“Alcohol, Sex Addiction, Drugs, whatever they have programs for, it’s why I’m here,” Marlena stated.
“Ooooh so you’re a Fight Club kinda girl huh?”
“Excuse me?” she asked confused.
“Fight Club, that movie with Brad Pitt and Edward Norton. Norton can’t sleep right? So he starts to go to all these meetings, like AA, testicular cancer meetings, just so he has something to do. So is that why you’re here? Can’t sleep and need to have a little fun by pretending to have some addictions?” Bo asked curiously, his arms crossed in front of him.
“Yes Mr. Brady, you have me all figured out!” Marlena replied sarcastically. “Last night, I was so bored and so unable to sleep I thought about what could enrich my life and I came to the conclusion of rehab! Those early morning wakeup calls to chant about life and scream out ‘I’m Marlena, and I’m an alcoholic!’ Oh dear God, Bo, you have figured me all out!” she responded, rolling her eyes.
“Ah, a feisty one, I see. Well darling, good luck here and I hope to see you at dinner,” he winked walking off.
“Scumbag,” she muttered as she fished through her Kate Spade bag, finding exactly what she was looking for. “I need a cigarette. It’s the least I can do to keep sane in this hellhole.”
She walked outside, the fresh air seeping through her lungs. She sat down on a bench, breathing in deeply, the sensation of cigarette smoke filtrating her body. She closed her eyes, just wanted to feel free and not so much like a prisoner until two voices interrupted her from her moment of peace.
“Mr. Black, can I please have your autogragh?” a man asked walking over to a young man, in his early 30’s. A black leather jacket covered his built shoulders, a pair of sunglasses bordered around his eyes.
“No,” he said snidely, taking a drag from his cigarette as he lowered his glasses. “No one bothers me during my smoke break.”
Disguested Marlena got up as she watched the other man walk away. “What the hell is wrong with you?” she asked John Black, crossing her arms in front of her chest, after letting her cigarette fall to the ground. “All he wanted was a damn autograpgh, I’m sure you can spare a stupid second. Damn musician,” she muttered as she began to walk away.
He grabbed her arm, as she spun around, her eyes coming face to face with his now unshaded eyes. They were just like Allie had told her. One look and everything else became an after thought. They matched the sky above her, twinkling stars shaded in the center.
“How’d you know I was a muscian?” he asked, giving her the up and down. “Are you a fan?” he smiled.
“God no! And if I was, I wouldn’t be after the way you treated that man. The poor guy is probably going to go try and commit suicide because *the* Joe Black doesn’t wanna sign his autograpgh.”
“John Black, sweetheart. Joe Black was Brad Pitt and God knows I am a hell of a lot hotter than him,” he boasted.
“I wouldn’t count on it,” she said, walking away.
“Hey, what’s your name!” he called behind her, standing up.
She spun around, a smile on her lips. “Why do you want to sign an autograpgh for me?”
“Maybe.”
“Sorry, I forgot it, goodbye,” she laughed, walking back into the rehabilitation center.
“Hope, what do you know about John Black?” Marlena asked her roommate as she began to unpack her clothing.
Hope looked up from her notebook and shrugged her shoulders, laying down in bed. Her chocolate brown hair fell down her back as her dark eyes sparkled in the moonlight.
“I don’t know, he just got in here last night. Rumor has it, during a performance he OD’ed and passed out on stage but so many rumors fly around this place, it’s unbelievable. I mean, when I first got in here, people were saying I was a hooker who got so drunk one night that I had an orgy with an entire bachelor party and then showed up at the wedding claiming I was the groom’s wife. It’s ridiculous.”
“So, what are you in here for?” Marlena asked curiously, sitting down on her bed. “I mean, if you don’t mind talking about it.”
“Probably same as you. Drugs, alcohol . . . you get used to this place though. And plus, it gives me a chance to meet some guys who I know have the same problems as me. It’s so much easier to talk to someone who understands you, ya know? When I get out of here, I’d love to date Bo . . .”
“Bo Brady?” Marlena interrupted her.
“Yeah, did you meet?”
Trying to stifle her laughter, Marlena nodded. “Yeah, um this morning. So anyway, what’s Black’s problem?”
“Have a crush on him?” Hope smiled.
“God no! I was just wondering what the hell crawled up his ass. All right, enough talk of complete imbolsols. So what do you all do for fun here? Considering drinking and drugs isn’t allowed.”
“Basically nothing. They do have movie night once a week where everyone just conjoins down in the lobby. Of course we must watch all alcohol and drug related movies though. They think if we watch movies we relate too, we’ll understand that we have a problem. Last week, When A Man Loves A Woman with Meg Ryan, this week 28 Days with Sandra Bullock, next week I wouldn’t be surprised if we watch one of those cheesy movies you see as a sophomore in high school,” Hope teased.
“You going to watch it tonight?”
“Nah, I’m exhausted. But you should go. Beats sitting in here all night. Keeps your mind off of wanting what you can’t have.”
“Or makes you want it more,” Marlena laughed. “But I think I’ll go check it out. Night Hope.”
“Night.”
———————————————————–
Marlena sat in the lobby, starting to fall asleep when two voices behind her made her stir.
“Bo, I am telling you, Sandra Bullock was married to Tate Donovan, than he married Jenn Aniston and then Jenn had an affair with Pitt . . .”
“John, you’re an idiot!” Bo exclaimed. “She was married to Keanu Reeves, then they split up when they did Speed and she married that guy who plays Chandler on Friends.”
“You both are idiots,” Marlena replied turning around. “Where the hell do you get your info? Bullock dated Donovan, they broke up then he then dated Jenn Aniston, him and Aniston broke up, she started to date Pitt, then she married him.”
“Thanks Marlena,” Bo winked.
“Ah, so that’s your name? Marlena,” John smiled. “So my beautiful Marlena, may I sign an autograph for you?”
“Oh gag me!” she exclaimed. “And don’t ever call me your beautiful Marlena because Mr. Black, I will never be yours. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to bed, try not to dream of me,” she winked, walking off.
“She told you man,” Bo laughed, watching her walk out of the room.
“Don’t worry. By the time I get out of this joint, that blonde beauty will be mine and that’s a fact,” he winked, leaning back in his chair, a smile radiant on his face.
Dear Diary,
It’s been about three days since I’ve been sober and I’m already at the
point where sticking needles in my hand would be better than sitting in this
hell hole. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t mind the majority of the people here.
Hope and I happen to get along great, the new girl Laura isn’t bad and even
Bo Brady is growing on me. But then there is John Black. The egotistical,
self centered, singer who thinks that the world revolves around him. I
walked into breakfast this morning and he just sat there, his sunglasses on,
a cigarette in hand, like he didn’t give a . . .
“Marlena?” John Black asked, walking into her bedroom, opening the door slightly, “Are you busy?”
“For you, yes,” she mumbled, looking back down at her diary. She looked back down and started to finish up her entry when she felt his eyes locked on her.
Looking up at him, she raised her eyebrow in question as she leaned up against her pillow, rolling her eyes. “Is there something else, Mr. Black?” she asked aggitated.
He stared at her, no emotion void in his eyes as he walked into the room, sitting gently on Hope’s bed. “I have a hypothetical question for you.”
“No, if we both get out of here, I will not become your whore of the week, nor will I go see any of your shows so give it up,” she responded coldly.
“No seriously, please just listen okay?”
“Fine, fine, what is it?”
“Okay, if you were a head doc right and this guy came into your office and he was having major problems but he didn’t know how to deal with it because his usual way to handle things would be by . . . by slicing his wrists, what would you tell him to do?”
“Find a real shrink,” Marlena cracked. “John, how would I know? I went to business school not medical school. I guess I would tell them to deal with their problem, I mean we all have to here so maybe they should also. Did I help in your little experiment?”
“Yeah thanks,” he said quietly, walking to the door. “Look Mar, I’m sorry.”
Before Marlena could respond, she heard the door close. “Hm, whatever,” she shrugged, before closing her diary and laying down to go to bed.
————————————————————————-
“Marlena, get up!” she heard Hope squeal as Marlena moved restlessly in her sleep. “We need to talk, ahh please get up!”
“I’m up, I’m up,” she groaned, sitting up in bed. “Why are you spazzing out on me? Some people like to sleep around this joint, ya know?”
“Yeah, yeah, so anyway, before curfew ended tonight Bo and I went out to get some ice cream and we were just hanging out outside near the fountain and one thing led to another and we . . . well you know,” she giggled, her eyes sparkling.
“Aww my Hopey,” Marlena teased. “Look, I wanna hear all the details but I am absolutly starving so I am gonna run down and sneak some chocolate, want anything?”
“Can you get me a water? I’m a little dehydrated,” Hope winked.
Marlena laughed, shaking her head. “Whatever you want.”
She jogged down the stairs, walking into the kitchen, dimming the lights, making sure not to get caught. She rummaged through the fridge, until settling upon chocolate pudding and was about to go back upstairs when she heard moaing from the back room.
“I wonder what that is,” she muttered, walking slowly to the door, pushing it open, slightly. The moaning got louder as she pushed the door open, finding a body lying on the floor, a bottle of vicodin beside him, a flask of vodka beside that.
She ran over to the body, turning him over, her eyes wide as she realized he was now unconcious.
“Somebody, help me!” she screamed, “Please!!” She looked back down, tears welling in her eyes as she placed her hands over his chest. “Damn it Black, wake up!” she cried. “Please God, make John okay, please,” she whispered as she continued CPR, everything else becoming a blur.
Marlena paced the halls of County General Hospital, the chills parading throughout her body. She had never liked hospitals, didn’t know anyone who did actually but for the first time in her life, she had nothing to drown her sorrows in. Her nails were bit down to the very edge, her lips dry from her teeth knawing on them. She sat down in an uncomfortable plastic chair, her eyes finally beginning to close until she felt a hand on her, startling her.
“Do you even realize that John is fighting for his life because of *you!*” Bo screamed, leaning down to her so his brown eyes burned into hers. “He wanted your fucking advice, Marlena. He left a message on my machine saying you told him to deal with it and he did! He could die and if he does I will make sure you never go back to that rehab clinic!”
“Where the hell do you get off?” Marlena yelled, standing up, “He asked my advice on a hypothetical question! How the hell was I supposed to know he was going to drown his sorrows. We all have issues Bo. You don’t think I’d love to have a bottle of vodka right now? That I don’t feel my body shake, that I don’t wake up in cold sweats because something I have known for so long is missing? You blaming me isn’t even justified and we both know that!”
“Marlena, he trusted you!”
“He didn’t know me Bo! How the hell could he trust me? I’ve been here for like three days and in that time I spoke to him maybe three times, none of which were civilized conversations. This is the last thing I need . . .”
“Stop feeling sorry for yourself Marlena. Maybe if you knew what John’s real problem was . . .”
“How the fuck should I know when I don’t even know him!” she yelled outraged. “That’s like asking me the last scene in The Sixth Sense without me ever seeing it! You can’t understand if you don’t know! Now if you’ll excuse me, I am going to go see John. Not because I feel bad because I don’t. He did this to himself and I’m gonna wake him and tell him that!” she shot back, storming off towards ICU.
——————————————————————————
Marlena walked into John’s hospital room, moving towards the bed. He laid stiff, his body still from the medication he had been given to sedate him. She sat down next to him on the bed, tears beginning to form in her eyes for some unknown reason.
“Damn it, John,” she cracked, looking around the room, “Why did you do this to me? Why did you have to ask me medical adivce when I am in advertising! Why did you have to trust me when you don’t know the first thing about me! People don’t trust me. I’m a screw up, a loser, the only thing I have ever done for anyone else is cause pain, so why? Why did you come to me for advice? I need alcohol John . . . it’s not fair. You got to cheat, you got to feel the cold liquid pour down your throat, to feel light headed and free once you swallowed those pills. I . . . I have to go. I have to get out of here, out of this town, away from everything that I can’t handle anymore!”
She walked to the door, turning around before exiting. “Goodbye John,” she whispered as she shut his door, wanting nothing more than to drown her sorrows in a bottle of whiskey and a whole lot of aspirin.
Marlena stood outside Danny’s, a local bar in Smithtown. She had been to rehab for not even 48 hours and had already escaped, due to everyone’s concern for John Black. She had snuck away from the hospital after being reamed at by Bo for what seemed like hours when in reality it was no more than five minutes. In a way she did feel guilty . . . John had wanted her advice and she managed to portray her sadistic attitude on him, driving him to near death.
She shook off her thoughts, wanting to think of anything *but* John Black and his current situation. She walked to the door of the bar, opening it a crack, just wanting to peer in. She didn’t want a drink . . . well she did but promised herself she would become sober no matter how bad the urge was. She just wanted to smell the atmosphere . . . the smell of beer flowing throughout the room, the smell of cigarette smoke filtrating through her lungs.
“Hey lady, if you’re coming in, do it, it’s freezing,” the bartender said, glancing at the pretty blonde at the door. He noticed the look of regret on her face and suddenly felt bad for his sudden attitude shortage and quickly changed his lips from upside down into a bright smile. “Come on in, let me get you a drink.”
She hesitated at the door, not wanting to be rude but knowing if she went in, she wouldn’t be able to resist the urge of a shot of tequila or something as simple as a Heineken.
Freeing herself from the cold air outside, she reluctantly walked into the smoky atmosphere, glancing around. She had her chance to leave, her chance to keep the promises she had made to herself but she was weak . . . she was sick of fighting, fighting herself, fighting other people . . . just sick of it all.
She sat down at the bar, looking behind the bartender, eyeing her selection. “Scotch on the rocks,” she said uneasily.
“Sure. Are you okay? You look a little worn down.”
She smiled at the bartender and picked a straw out of the container, twirling it around her mouth. “Am I okay?” she laughed in spite of herself. “I would have to go with no, but hey, we all have bad times right?”
“Want to talk about it? A lot of the guys come down here to talk, I’m a pretty good listener. My name is Shawn, by the way,” he said extending his hand to her.
“Marlena,” she smiled. “I’ve just had a really bad week. The kind of week that just never wants to end and when you think you’re about to see a shred of light, it goes back down in the dumps, somehow becoming worse than it even began with.”
“Guy troubles?” Shawn asked, leaning on the counter.
“Somewhat,” she said downing her scotch. She knew it wasn’t very lady like but at this point in the time, it was the last thing she was concerned with. She wanted to feel high, like she was floating, she wanted to get away from her emotions. “Can you get me something stronger?” she asked, shoving her glass towards him. “A lot stronger. I’ll be right back, I just need to run to the ladies room.”
She grabbed her bag and walked to the back of the bar, walking into the one stall bathroom. She took out a bottle of pills, eyeing the bottle intently. “Vicodin,” she said a loud, sitting down on the cover of the toilet seat. She had managed to find a few pills on the floor near John when she had found him, discretely picking them up as the paramedics filled the room. “Nothing goes better with alcohol then a couple vicodin,” she mumbled, popping a few into her mouth, washing it down with sink water.
She checked her appearance out in the mirror, straightening her blouse and her tousled hair and walked out, to find another drink in front of her stool.
“What is it?” she asked Shawn, sitting back down.
“Don’t wanna know,” he smiled. “So Marlena, what are you doing in Smithtown? This town is a no nothing name besides the rehab clinic and the hospital
Marlena bit down on her lower lip, knowing if she revealed she was in rehab, he’d take her drink away and send her on her merry way. She smiled, a fake smile she had learned after years of covering exactly what she had been feeling. “I was visiting a friend at the clinic actually. My car broke down just down the road and I figured I’d have a few drinks and then call triple A and a cab for myself,” she lied, taking a gulp of her drink.
The strong liquor ran down her throat, giving her the chills for only a moment as it settled in her stomach.
“So you were at the clinic? Did you hear what went down there tonight?”
Marlena, curious to what his answer would be, shook her head. “Nope. I left a while ago, I was just driving the scenic route for a little. What happened?”
“That musician, John Black, he was there and overdosed on pills and alcohol. Some chic found him lying in the kitchen after hours, totally out of it. They rushed him to the hospital and he’s lying in a coma. It’ll be terrible if he dies, he’s a great guitarist and definitely a looker. Supposedly, the girl who saved him had something to do with his OD. Had the hots for her and she rejected him, something like that.”
She smiled that fake smile once more, and downed her drink, giving Shawn back the glass. “Vodka, straight, a whole lot,” she said, her moment ago sweet tone was replaced by a snide bitchiness. Why was it anyone elses business what went on between her and John? Hell, there was no her and John!
“So, Shawn, why is it even your business what happened to the guy? And how do you know it had anything to do with a girl? Maybe he was just a depressed guy with problems, I mean let’s face it, he was in rehab to begin with!”
“My son Bo goes there and he told me, him and John became good friends.”
“Bo,” Marlena mumbled.
“Do you know my son?” Shawn asked.
“What? Oh no, I said Oh. Look Shawn, I need to go, but can I just have one shot of tequila before I go out to wait for triple A?” she asked.
“Yeah,” he replied, eyeing her carefully.
He set it down in front of her, watching her drink it. She put it to her lips, taking only a second to drink the shot of tequila, her eyes closed as she relished the taste of the hardcore liquid.
“Thanks Shawn.”
*****************
Shawn watched Marlena walk to the door, her coordination off as she stumbled over her own two feet. She reached the door, grabbing the handle as her body slumped down, colliding with the floor.
“Shit!” Shawn exclaimed as he watched her fall. “Someone call 911, *NOW!*” he exclaimed as he began CPR on the stranger in his bar.
The Jarlena Journal 