A LaLa Land Addiction (4 page)

“Then you've got to be the girl you used to be,” he said. His finger under her chin, his thumb rubbing her lips, his eyes penetrating hers so deeply that she felt like he could see through her. It was in moments like these that she realized how deeply she was invested in him. She loved everything about Iman. He melted her with one glance. The things he made her feel were intense. Loving him felt like looking directly into the sun. It was beautiful but bad for you all at the same time. Iman's love was scorching and blinding. It was blistering to a girl who had never truly felt loved, and she wanted to do everything she could to keep him. Bleu just wanted to hold on to this overwhelming feeling. The truth would only interfere with that.

He walked into the house and they stood awkwardly in the foyer. “Get some rest. I'll be down here if you need anything. I'm not going anywhere,” he reassured her. He planted the simplest kiss on her forehead, but the emotion connected to it was the most complex she'd ever felt. He stood at the bottom of the stairs as she ascended. When she was behind the closed doors to the master suite she placed her back against the door and felt her legs giving out as tears fell from her eyes. She wished that she could fight this urge that she felt, but it was so strong. It was like a black hole sucking her in. Iman had said and done all of the right things to keep her clean. His love made her feel good, but she knew something that felt better. As much as she wanted to deny it, in the bottom of her gut, in her darkest place, she still wanted to get high. She cried her heart out because she knew it was only a matter of time before she gave in and, once she did, she would lose Iman for good.

*   *   *

Iman stood on the back terrace to his opulent home, staring out over his property. It was beautiful, expansive. He was the shining example of a man at the pinnacle of his success. Stone statues lined the rectangular oversized pool. Waterfalls trickled into the glowing Jacuzzi. Iman had every luxury at the tip of his fingers, but it meant nothing to him without someone to share it with. Once upon a time he had thought Tan would be his heart's joy; now it was Bleu and he didn't want there to be any other after her. Her age made it almost impossible for her and Iman to be soul mates. She was too young. She hadn't truly lived yet. Bleu didn't even really know herself yet. She was discovering who she was and what her impact on this world would be and Iman didn't want to stop that. He wouldn't mind being the audience to her life's show, but what he was witnessing was horrific. He could see Bleu disappearing right before his eyes. The intelligent, driven, focused young woman she once was had become a mere memory. He hardly recognized the desperate, thirsty version that the drugs had transformed her into. He could see her resolve wavering. Her struggle was evident. Sometimes her nerves were so bad that her body shook involuntarily. It ailed him greatly to see her deterioration, and as much as he wanted her, he knew that he was no good for her. His lifestyle didn't allow for her recovery. He made his riches off of the very drug that was destroying the woman he loved. Her quest to look good on his arm and to fit into a world where everything moved at warp speed had caused her to crash. It was all too much for her to handle.

I don't know how to fix this one,
Iman thought. Iman was a man who calculated each move before he made it, so the fact that he didn't know what to do about Bleu troubled him. He felt helpless and he realized that this might be his karma. He had periled the next man's woman, mother, daughter, sister, with the crack cocaine that he put onto the streets. Seeing how much damage it caused up close to someone he cherished was agonizing.

Iman gripped the railing of the terrace as he lowered his head in despair. He had never felt a weight this heavy. Bleu's condition burdened him. The hollowness in his stomach reminded him that he was human. He had been so cold, so unmoved and detached from his emotions, for so long that the feeling was unfamiliar to him. He hadn't felt this vulnerable since Tan had lost the child she carried years ago. Iman wasn't an emotional man, but Bleu was his Achilles' heel. He was usually so calm and collected. This array of emotion was uncharacteristic of him and made Iman feel like he was out of control. He swiped his hand over his face and pinched the bridge of his nose as he blew out a breath of frustration. He wished he could love her to health, but he wasn't equipped to handle an addiction. He had tried and although for a while she was better, he knew it was only a matter of time before she backslid. Watching her demise would break him. He removed his phone out of his pocket and dialed the only person he could think of to ask for help.

“
Tía,
I need you,” he said as soon as his aunt Marta answered the phone.

“Iman? It's three o' clock in the morning. What's wrong?” Marta asked, concern lacing her tone. Her voice was thick and husky due to her being interrupted from a good night's sleep.

“It's Bleu. She's in trouble,” Iman said. “I just want her clean. I found her in a hotel room today. I busted up the spot moments before she relapsed. She had the pipe in her hands,
tía
.” His voice cracked and he cleared his throat, trying to remain composed. He had loved before, but never in his life had he loved someone as deeply as he loved Bleu. She had penetrated him straight to the core. Her youth was like a breath of fresh air. Her tenacity revived a spirit in him that he had neglected at her age. She was honest, vulnerable. She was a young woman who would mature into a grown woman for him to cherish. He would grow her up. He would experience all of her firsts with her. He just had to get her through this rough patch in her life. He wouldn't have bothered to be burdened with anyone else in this dire situation. He would have dismissed any other chick but Bleu. His Bleu. She needed him. He couldn't help but feel like he was partly to blame for her addiction.

“We'll be there in the morning. Bright and early, Iman. Can you handle things until then?” Marta asked.

“I can. I can't see her like this and I don't trust anyone else to handle this for me,” he said.

“No explanation needed,” Marta said. “Good night.”

*   *   *

Bleu didn't sleep all night. She lay on top of the covers. Despite the shower she had taken, she felt too dirty to climb underneath. She had a burdened soul, a guilty conscience, and it was eating at her. She stared out of the window all night, blinking only when her tears threatened to fall, until the darkness outside turned to light. She waited for Iman to come to bed. She knew that he was upset. Bleu feared what he might think of her. She could only imagine how disgusted he must be. She was waiting like an undisciplined child anticipating punishment but Iman never came. Her heart felt like it was being squeezed so tightly it hurt.
He can't even stand to be around me,
she thought. The sound of the bedroom door opening made her pulse race, but she didn't move.

“Get up, sweetheart. It's time to go.”

When Bleu heard Marta's familiar voice she sat up in confusion. “What are you doing here? Where is Iman? Go? Go where?” The questions came one after another. She couldn't even get one out fully before she rambled into the next one.

“You can't stay here, Bleu,” Marta said. “You need help, honey. Professional help.”

“He wants me out?” Bleu asked, her eyes wide in shock as her brow creased in confusion.

“He just wants you to get better,” Marta said. “Eddie is waiting in the car. Get dressed and we will be waiting for you, sweetheart. Take your time.”

Tears pooled in her eyes. “I'm not leaving until I speak to him. He can face me. That's the least he can do!” she shouted, suddenly angry as she stormed by Marta. “Where is he?!” Bleu yelled as she rushed down the stairs.

She found him standing outside, waiting near Eddie's car.

“You're making me leave! You're abandoning me!” She pushed Iman and he grabbed her up instantly, pinning her hands at her sides and pulling her into him. “Please don't make me leave, Iman. I promise you I won't mess up. I won't. I just had a bad night. I promise. I don't want you to give up on me.” She was sobbing hysterically.

“I'm not abandoning you, ma. I just need you better. I need you stable and healthy. I can't watch you twenty-four-seven. You need to be somewhere safe, just for a little while,” he said.

“Iman, no, please,” she begged. “Don't throw me away.”

Iman looked Bleu directly in her eyes and released her arms as his hands traveled to her face. He held her cheeks so gently that she let her head fall to the side as he caressed her skin with his thumb. She could feel him trying to wipe her tears away, but they were endless. “I'm so sorry,” she whispered.

“You don't have to be sorry, ma. You're sick. You just need some rest. Do you trust me?”

She nodded.

“This isn't what I want either. I want you here with me, but this is what's best for you right now. We just have to take care of this for you right now. Kick this shit once and for all. I paid for you to go to one of the best rehabs in California. It's real exclusive. Private. Nobody will know you're there. They have yoga and all types of bougie shit,” he said with a smirk. “It's a library full of books there. I chose this place because it fits you. It has all the things you like to keep you occupied while you're there.”

“How long do I have to stay?” she asked somberly.

“As long as it takes,” he said before kissing her forehead.

“You won't wait for me!” she cried, unable to stop her sobs from wrecking her.

“You know better than that. As long as it takes. I'm not going anywhere,” he reassured her.

Bleu reached up and hugged him as tight as she could. He picked her up off her feet, closing his eyes as he took her all in. “The only way you'll lose me is if you lose yourself, Bleu. You need to get better, ma. I want that for you, but you have to want it too. If I had shown up a minute later yesterday you would have smoked that shit. It's not out of your system. If I could keep you here with me I would, Bleu, but I have to be able to trust you. Go in there and get your mind right, ma. When you get out I got you,” he said.

Marta and Eddie stood back watching the young couple. Marta had never seen Iman so smitten. Not even by Tan. “I'm sorry, but if we don't get moving we'll get caught in traffic,” she said, interrupting.

Iman nodded and released Bleu. He could see her reluctance as she moved toward the car. There were so many things he wanted to say to her, but he knew that hearing how much he cared for her would only make it harder for her to leave.

As they pulled away, Bleu turned and looked at Iman through the rear window. She felt like he was throwing her away. Rehab was just an excuse to get rid of her. As she turned her head forward, she wiped her tears and crossed her arms stubbornly. This was not what she wanted, but in the struggle to maintain control she couldn't see that. She couldn't handle this lifestyle, and if she didn't get out now it would kill her.

 

4

“We're here,” Marta said. Bleu looked up at the sign on the building.
The Sanctuary,
she thought. She scoffed as she shook her head. Bleu knew that once she stepped inside it would be anything but a safe haven.

“I don't need to be here. I don't belong here. I've been clean for three months,” she said.

“You're a grown woman, Bleu,” Marta said as she turned around in her seat to look Bleu in the eyes. “You don't have to go in there, but we both know if you don't you're going to go back to the streets. You will try to stay clean because you love Iman. There's only one problem: you don't love yourself, and as long as you don't love yourself you can't stay off the drugs for long. So it's your choice. What do you want to do?”

Bleu's eyes watered, but she was so stubborn that she refused to let them fall. “I don't need you to walk me in. I'm a big girl,” she said, angry as she gritted her teeth and pulled open the door before stepping out. She slammed the door so hard the car shook. Bleu knew that she had no right to be mad at Marta and Eddie. They were only trying to help her. From the first day she had come to L.A. they had supported her, but she needed someone, anyone, to blame. Eddie climbed from the car and grabbed her bag out of the trunk. “I've got it,” she snapped as she snatched it from his hands.

“You can do this, Bleu. We believe in you. Somewhere deep inside you is the same smart girl I picked up from the airport not so long ago,” Eddie said. His words affected her so deeply that a pit formed in her stomach.

“That girl doesn't exist anymore. A girl like that can't keep a man like Iman,” she responded in almost a whisper. Bleu turned on her heels and stormed toward the entrance of the rehab.

The smell of lavender filled the air and arrangements of exotic flowers filled the white room. It was all so clean. It didn't match her expectations. She had thought it would be dirty and old, with the bare-minimum accommodations. This was like an upscale resort. It sat on a Malibu beach and only accepted the most elite of clients, movie stars, socialites, and somehow Iman had gotten her a spot among them. She had expected to be around the worst of the worst, the dirty, the desperate, the filth of society, but as she looked at herself in a mirror that hung on the wall she realized she didn't look like what she had been through. Over the past few months she had gotten her weight up and restored her health. If she never disclosed her addiction, one would never suspect she had been a full-blown addict. Anger filled her because she didn't think she deserved to be in a place like this. She didn't want to put her business out for others to judge. Cinco had thrown her off and made her crave an escape. She had slipped up momentarily and now Iman was punishing her. He didn't know that being in his presence was the only thing that soothed her. Tucking her away, no matter how lavishly he accommodated her, only made the urge to get high return. It filled her with anxiety to be alone because it was then that she was forced to look at what she had become. She was so lost and ashamed that she didn't recognize herself.