The Descent of Love Hayley Feinstein + Cayetano González

THE DESCENT OF LOVE

Photography by Cayetano González Written by Hayley Feinstein

THE DESCENT OF LOVE

Content Warning Abuse, Substance Use

My hands are shaking in my pockets. I walk into a room that seems to never end. It’s dark and musty, and the ceiling caves in, about to fall apart into a thousand pieces. “Mood” by 24kGoldn bounces off the speakers and into the abyss of faceless bodies. I look around for familiar faces but fail to recognize anyone under the dim lights. My eyes search the room until I find the makeshift bar in the corner. I grab a beer. As I take a sip, the bitter coolness touches my tongue and falls down my throat, producing a gagging sensation. How the hell do people actually like this stuff? I notice a worn-out couch in the back of the room where a couple makes out like they’re the only ones at this whole damn party. I sit down and my eyes fall to the floor, which is filled with liquor stains and shoe imprints. Closing my eyes and taking a breath, I let the smell of intoxication fill my lungs. I take another sip and feel the cold metal of the can brush against my lips. The freedom of alcohol, a destination that no state of sobriety can take me too.

I feel a tap on my shoulder and turn around to see a girl with purple hair that’s dark at the roots and lightens at the tips. She gives me one of those smiles you can never trust and pulls out a sheet of strawberry stamps. What the hell is she doing?!

“Want one?” “I’m good, thanks.” “You sure?” “Yeah, I have plenty of stamps at home.” She snickers and I can feel the dread hit me. Not again. I didn’t come here to be mocked. “These aren’t stamps, silly.” The deceitful smile on her face seems to grow. “Then what are they?” “LSD.” “What the hell is that? Is that like some acronym, like LOL or something?” The girl looks over to her friends, who give me a full 180 scan. “No. Girl, is this like your first party or something?”

There it is. The question I was hoping no one would ask. “I mean, it’s not my first party… I just forgot what, you know, LSD is.” “LSD is acid. A hallucinogenic drug. Basically, unless you want to spend another three hours in this shithole, you should really take me up on my offer.” I look around. This place really is a shithole. High school is just a fucking shithole. She hands me a sticker. “Thank you.” “Have a wild night!” she says. She walks away, ready to stalk her next prey.

Cayetano is a Barcelona-based photographer who specializes in photography with natural light.

Model Sabrina Lan

I stare at the sticker, twirling it with my finger. Part of me says, yes, take that shit right now, but the other part says, Lacey, this isn’t a good idea. You know this is dumb. This isn’t going to end well. For a moment the latter side wins, and I shove the sticker into my pocket.

But then my head starts throbbing, eyes sinking like ships in a deadly war. The memories are flooding back. When he hit me until my whole back was black and blue. The tears in my eyes when she did nothing to help but watch. All the times he broke me, day after day, piece after piece.

Suddenly, there’s nothing in the world I could want more than the sticker that is in my pocket. I pull it out and place it on my tongue.

A few minutes pass and nothing feels different. But I guess it takes time before this shit activates. I close my eyes and breathe in the stuffy, smokey air, ready to be consumed by the illusions of my mind.

BOOM. CRASH. BOOM. CRASH. BOOM. CRASH.

The room is no longer dark and reeking with the odor of sweat and Smirnoff. It’s bright and airy, and with each step I take, I’m practically floating. The piercing moans and grunts coming from the bedroom walls are replaced with the most beautiful silence. I look up and the ceiling seems to go so high it practically touches the sky. A large disco ball hangs in the middle, spinning and flashing pinks, blues, purples, and greens. Underneath the disco

ball is a dance floor filled with teenagers living their best lives. I can feel a force pushing me into the crowd, and soon I’m swaying my arms to the music and shaking my hips to the beat. A hand touches my shoulder and I turn around to see the most ripped man to literally ever exist. His deep brown eyes bring me closer to him until his hands are on my waist, and I’m lost in the heavenly touch of his lips. His arms wrap around me tighter, and the kiss gets hotter and heavier. Where the hell have guys like this been my whole life? His hands slide up my back and into my hair. God, I could stay here forever. But something’s pulling me away. I open my eyes and see a bright light coming from the wall, which is now made of sheer glass.

“Excuse me.” I give one final kiss to Mr. Hot Stuff and push through the crowd. My feet control me, pulling me closer and closer toward the light. I reach a hallway that seems to go on forever like an infinite void of luminescence. Bedrooms are on both sides and the doors are all open. As I make my way through the glowing tunnel, swirls begin to dance across the walls. The swirls move faster and faster and the light grows brighter and brighter until I find the last room, the only one with a closed door.

KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK. Silence.

I turn the knob and walk inside. It’s the bedroom every little girl dreams of with light pink walls and a canopy that floats over the bed like a golden halo. There’s a large window that has a view of Los Angeles, which sparkles under the indigo sky. The Hollywood

sign is lit up and appears to be sitting among the clouds. I’ve only dreamed of seeing this sight in rural Wyoming, but now it’s here, close enough to touch. I slide my fingers down the glass and feel a sense of freedom that I haven’t felt since I was a child. My body no longer feels heavy, but soft and delicate.

And then I hear a voice... “Hi Lace, dear.”

A voice that brings me back to reality for a moment, for I fear its timbre, the way it shakes with nervousness.

My smiling mother joins me by the window. She caresses my face with her hand and pulls me into a warm embrace. My eyes begin to well up and a river flows down my cheeks and onto my shirt. This is all I’ve wanted. For so long. To be loved like this.

After what feels like an eternity, she breaks away from me, still holding onto my hand.“My Lace, dear, I am so proud of you. You have become such a beautiful, strong young woman.”

I look at her and for a moment I believe her. But the smile slowly fades and her kind eyes become cold and worn. Her hand pushes away from mine and the ground shakes, the walls moving inward. My mother now looks at me with a face of disappointment.

“Oh, Lace, what a failure you are,” she says. “You are the one thing I wish had never happened to me.”

The river flowing down my face becomes an ocean, and I fall to the floor,

drowning in misery. There’s no anger left for me to give, all I am is sadness. The walls begin to turn from glass to cold steel, and the world around me spins round and round.

Round and round. Round and round. Round and…

The ground is now flooded with water. Ripples push and pull my body, draining all the life away. I try to reach the surface, but something is holding me down.

And suddenly, the fish in the water vanish and the tides begin to die down. But the roaring crash of the currents hitting the surface only gets louder. The call of the waves pounds on my eardrums like a hammer shattering a thousand mirrors.

BOOM. CRASH. BOOM. CRASH. BOOM. CRASH.

The walls have transformed back to glass, and the ocean has disappeared beneath the floor. And she is no longer here. I take a deep breath and walk back to the dance floor. The lights are even brighter now, and I notice one flickering on the second floor, shouting my name. As I ascend the lavish staircase, the light seems to grow brighter with each step. I reach the second floor and follow the brilliant light to a balcony overlooking the property. Below is an Olympic-sized swimming pool where people drunkenly swim, make out, and even skinny dip. One guy makes a huge splash when he cannonballs in, pushing others far away with the mere strength of his body hitting the water. I look out at the night sky and trace the stars, trying to form constellations.

“There’s the big dipper,” says a voice that sends a shiver up my spine. I open

my mouth to reply, but nothing comes out.

“Mother said your father showed it to you when you were young.”

I look toward the voice and see my stepfather leaning against the railing. His salt and pepper hair now looks black, and the wrinkles of age have disappeared.

I look back out at the sky, struggling to hold back tears. “He showed it to me every night. And he told me that even when he wasn’t around, he would always be right there, shining between Alioth and Megrez.”

My stepfather puts his hand on mine, it feels warm and full of love. He smiles and kisses my forehead. I rest my head on his shoulder and tears fall down my face. He lifts my head and wipes them away, and instead of hitting me or blowing out my eardrums, he whispers “I am only tough on you because I love you. I see so much potential in you, and to be the incredible woman you have been and will continue to be, life can’t be anything close to easy. Because you can only become strong after you’ve faced a war and have lost a thousand battles. You will win some and lose some, but the losses are what will transform you. If you don’t step onto the battlefield, how can you be anything but afraid?”

His words soothe me like chamomile tea to a sore throat. It’s what I’ve been longing to hear for so long, needing to hear for so long.

He leans forward on the railing. “I need you to trust me. I will help you become strong. Take my hand.”I take

his hand without flinching.

“Come with me. Into the war. Be a fighter. Don’t be afraid.” He steps onto the railing and waits for me to join him. As I lift my foot onto the railing, I look at the world around me and feel something I’ve never felt before, unafraid. No longer crushed by the tough cards I’ve been dealt or by the crippling fear of never being enough.

And suddenly, faint voices appear in the distance, shouting: “What is she doing?!” “Get down!” “This is dangerous!” “She’s going to get killed!”

And faces surrounded me, filled with fear and sorrow. But the voices are just background noise and the faces are projections in my mind. No one has ever loved me enough to stop me from jumping. No one has cared for me so that if I fall, it would matter at all. No one has ever seen me as anything but afraid. But now, I am a fighter. He finally sees what the rest of the world is blind to.

“Fight with me on the battlefield. Take a step toward your strength.” my stepfather lifts his foot. I take a deep breath and look around. The voices and faces are gone, replaced by nothing but a celestial sky.

“Trust me.” my stepfather says. “I trust you. I am a fighter.” I lift my foot into the air. With each step, I get closer and closer to strength.

The world begins to transform around me. As I take my final step, gravity calls my name.