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Sober

Summary:

Song-fic Based on Sober by Demi Lovato

Chloe is struggling.

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Chloe woke up that morning with her head pounding. She looked around the apartment she didn't recognise before noticing a body next to her in the bed next to her. She licked her dry lips before crawling our the bed and grabbing her clothes.

She got dressed without turning to look at the face of the man she slept with. She didn't want to think about it. She didn't want to remember...

She let herself out and walked out with her head down. She weaved her way through the streets of Paris, not caring who noticed she was walking the walk of shame.

When she got to the Le Grand Paris she ignored the judging gaze of the doorman. Who was he to judge anyway? It was her that signed his fucking paycheck.

She got to her room without any troubles. She threw her purse across the room and took off her shoes. She leaned on her door before collapsing to the floor.

She felt like she was disappearing.

She felt like she was helpless.

She felt weak...

Why was it so easy to fall back into that pit? Years of being clean but it's so easy to lose yourself. It takes so long to build yourself up again after falling. But why did it have to be so easy to break yourself down?

Her mind flashed with images from the night before.

 

*15 hours before*

 

 

"Hey, Chlo, the gang's hanging out tonight at the old haunt. We thought it'd be fun to catch up. What'd you think?" The slurred voice over the phone asked.

 

 

Chloe knew exactly who it was. She'd promised she'd stay away from them. They led her down the rabbit hole of her demise.

 

 

She looked around her apartment. Marinette and Adrien had left Paris; they were still on their honeymoon. Alya and Nino were building a family together. Their baby, Jasper, was still a wriggling bundle but he was precious. Sabrina was in Africa, running her non-profit organisation.

 

 

Chloe Bourgeois was alone. 

 

 

She could feel it in her bones. Her best friends were building themselves. She was too, she was finally happy.

 

 

But all of a sudden, it just seemed so insignificant compared to what everyone else was doing. All of a sudden she just seemed to be insignificant.

 

 

"I'll see you there."

 

 

*Present*

 

 

Tears found a silent trail down her cheek. Her head was fuzzy. Lights. Sweat. The buzz. It just felt so good. How could it break her so soundly?

 

 

Chloe's room was neat. The cleaning ladies must've come in while she was out.

 

 

It was bothering her. Why was everything in order? It should be a mess too, just like her fucking mind. If she couldn't be okay then nothing else could be.

 

 

She stood up and roughly wiped the tears from her cheeks. She stood to her feet, the ground cold beneath her feet. She walked to the kitchen. No dishes in sight; all packed away neatly in the cupboards.

 

 

It bothered her.

 

 

She pried the cupboard open and took out a glass. It reflected the light, making it sparkle. It was so... clean.

 

 

It bothered her.

 

 

She threw it to the ground with all the power in her body. She watched it as it hit the ground. Frame by frame. The moment it touched the ground, the shatter almost seemed like a late reaction. The pieces scattered the hardwood floor. It looked prettier in some sick way. It looked prettier broken. A sardonic laugh bubbled out of her.

 

 

Just like her, she thought. With that in mind, every single breakable thing in her kitchen was on the floor in pieces. When she ran out of crockery she went into the living room. Then her bedroom. Then the bathroom. No room was left untouched.

 

 

* 12 hours before *

 

 

She walked to the warehouse apprehensively. The warehouse had a low thrum moving through it. She could hear the music from outside.

 

 

She knew what would be there when she walked in. She would find a whole lot of screwed up people. Was she strong enough?

 

 

No. She could do this. She couldn't let this part of her past own her present and, quite possibly, her future.

 

 

She completed the last few strides and opened the door of the building. Smoke hung low in the room. The dance floor was filled with sweaty bodies and the disco lights were bright and blinding.

 

 

She saw Michel standing by the bar. He waved her over. She walked past a table of people; all with their credit cards in their hands. She knew what they were doing. A shiver ran through her body.

 

 

When she got to the bar, Michel gave her a once-over, "Looking good, babe," he smirked.

 

 

Chloe couldn't help but smile back, ignoring the nagging feeling telling her to run.

 

 

*Present*

 

 

Her hotel room was a mess. Chloe was too.

 

 

She didn't feel any better. She'd thrown her tantrum. She'd let out her emotions. It wasn't enough.

 

 

She sat on the floor, feeling cold. Her mind couldn't help but think of the day it all fell apart for her. The moment she knew that she wasn't enough.

 

 

* 19 years before*

 

 

"Mama!" The five-year-old old girl's cries echoed from the walls. She grabbed tightly onto her mom's leg - clutching it for dear life.

 

 

"Chloe," her mother sighed in an exhausted voice. "Mama needs to go."

 

 

Chloe pouted, her eyes were cloudy with tears, "Why? Why can't I come with you?"

 

 

"Chloe, honey. You need to understand that you cannot become famous if you're lugging a kid with you," her mom explained.

 

 

"You don't want me anymore?" The little girl asked with heartbreak lacing her tone.

 

 

"Of course I want you," her mom said with a smile. "This is something you'll understand when you're older. You'll go through that stage when you'll want more."

 

 

Chloe's mother looked at Chloe's father. The man stood stoic and tall. His face was blank.

 

 

"Well, Andre, 'til we meet again," she turned and walked out without looking back.

 

 

Chloe turned to her father. "Daddy, will she come back." Mr Bourgeois looked at his daughter. She looked just like her mother. The same woman who was probably outside, ready to catch a cab and leave her family for good.

 

 

"I don't think so, honey. We just weren't enough for her. But I promise you, you will never, ever feel like you don't have enough."

 

 

From that day on Andre Bourgeois worked. He worked and built an empire of his own, just so that his daughter wouldn't leave him like her mother did. He would do everything to keep his Chloe happy.

 

 

*Present*

 

 

Chloe scoffed. What bullshit. The only thing her dad had managed to do was screw her up.

 

 

He ruined her. They both did. Her parents were jokes.

 

 

* 15 hours before*

 

 

"So, Chlo, how's it been going?" Michel asked.

 

 

Chloe looked at this man who, with a couple of pills, had managed to single-handedly fuck up her life.

 

 

"Never been better," she answered stiffly.

 

 

He somehow managed to smile harder, "Aww, not even when you were with me?"

 

 

"Not even," she replied tersely.

 

 

What was she even doing here? With him? She should leave. She shouldn't have even come.

 

 

Michel lost his smirk; his expression darkened. "I know that look. That's the look of someone ready to run away," he threw an arm around her shoulder and pulled her closer to his body. He smelled like cheap cologne and vodka, Chloe couldn't help but note. "What's the rush? You just got here, we should have some fun. For old times' sake, what'd you say?"

 

 

"What'd you say?" Chloe hated it when he said that. He used it to manipulate her; he used it to make it seem like he's giving her a choice when really he's not. But that's the thing, isn't it? She had always had a choice.

 

 

She didn't even notice the sip she'd taken until it was done. That was her catalyst.

 

 

Two years of rehabilitation and dying inside. Just to be ruined by a sip of vodka and coke. A glass of vodka and coke. Two glasses, three, four, five... who's counting?

 

 

Stay away from the cocaine, Chloe.

 

 

Who said that?

 

 

*Present*

 

 

She felt dirty.

 

 

What was wrong with her? How weak could a person be? She didn't want to be alone anymore. She was fading away.

 

 

Who loved her?

 

 

*8 years ago*

 

 

The blonde teenager watched her father's casket get lowered into the ground. It was raining, which was the norm in beautiful Paris.

 

 

Another parent lost.

 

 

She didn't cry. She just... watched.

 

 

The guests at her father's funeral were politicians he had worked with. They were the highest in the Parisian hierarchy. Only the most elite had been invited to her dad's funeral. Well, maybe. She wasn't completely there.

 

 

When the ceremony was over she stayed. There wasn't a tombstone over the grave yet but the dirt was enough.

 

 

She was completely alone.

 

 

The first tear fell. The rest followed soon after. Chloe collapsed on her knees on her dad's grave. For once, she didn't care. She didn't care about the mud. She didn't care about her hair. She didn't care about her outfit. She couldn't care.

 

 

Who loved her?

 

 

Hand and knees, in the sand. She wanted him back. Bring him back.

 

 

"IT'S NOT FAIR!" she screeched. "It's not fair."

 

 

Her sobs were drowned by the sound of rain. So was any other sound, so she didn't know anyone was there until there was a hand on her shoulder. Then two, then three, four, five...

 

 

Soon every person in her class held her in a hug. Marinette hugged her the tightest. That was her catalyst.

 

 

Who loves you, Chloe?

 

 

Maybe they do.

 

 

*Present*

 

 

Marinette wasn't in the country. But Alya was.

 

 

She crawled to her bag. She dug through it, ignoring the bag of white powder. She wouldn't need it.

 

 

She grabbed her phone and called Alya. It rang and rang and rang.

 

 

Alya always had her phone with her but when Chloe needed someone most she didn't answer. She didn't fucking answer.

 

 

She left a message anyway, "Hey, Alya. It's Chloe. Obviously. Uhm, yeah... I screwed up. I majorly screwed up." It wasn't long before the blonde twenty-four year old broke down for the fifth time in a span of twenty-four hours.

 

 

She looked at the white powder Michel had gifted her as a goodbye gift. She smiled wistfully. He always gave her the worst gifts.

 

 

She picked it up.

 

 

*5 years before*

 

 

"Chloe, I don't trust that guy," Adrien said to her.

 

 

"So what?" Chloe snapped.

 

 

Adrien sighed. He was worried about his friend. She'd lost weight, she wasn't communicating with them as much anymore and she completely ignored them.

 

 

"Chloe, I'm just worried about you."

 

 

Chloe glared; her stare was like ice piercing his skin. Her eyes were red-rimmed and she kept gazing around, like she was scared something would jump out and attack her, "Not every guy can be you, Adrien. Not every guy can be rich, kind, be a good boyfriend and save Paris on a daily basis!"

 

 

"Now hang on-" he tried to interrupt.

 

 

"I'm not done!" she screeched, "Not everyone can be in the perfect relationship like Adrien and Marinette. The most famous power couple. The saviours of Paris. And not everyone will have a relationship like you two. The most important thing is that he is my saviour."

 

 

Sometimes she hated Adrien and Marinette. She hated them for being perfect. She hated them for being happy.

 

 

Screw them.

 

 

"Chloe," Adrien said softly.

 

 

"Get out," she muttered. He just stood there. Her eyes blazed, "I said 'GET OUT,' GODDAMIT!"

 

 

Adrien walked out. Chloe didn't feel better. She picked up her phone and looked at Michel's contact. They'd been dating for three months.

 

 

Scratch that, he'd been ruining her for three months.

 

 

*Present*

 

 

Chloe's guilt disappeared with the more drugs she took. The world faded around her; giving her a sense of peace.

 

 

She missed this. She missed the peace.

 

 

*4 years ago*

 

 

At eight in the morning, the guests of Le Grand Paris were given a wake-up call they would never forget, the screech of a scared, heartbroken best friend.

 

 

Sabrina Raincomprix was the one who found her best friend, pale and drugged.

 

 

It was the headline for months after - 'The ﹰFormer ﹰMayor's daughter, Chloe Bourgeois (20), found unconscious due to Cocaine Over Dose.'

'Young Heiress found on the floor in her hotel room due to OD of drugs'

 

 

Chloe was scared. She was scared of herself. When she woke up from her coma three months later she was once again surrounded by her friends.

 

 

They helped rebuild her.

 

 

*Present*

 

 

Chloe's phone rang. She didn't answer.

 

 

Alya looked at her husband Nino, "She's not picking up."

 

 

Nino's eyes flashed. He picked up his son's baby bag and went to situate him in his car seat.

 

 

Alya called an ambulance. She was scared for her friend. She'd called her three hours ago but she and Nino were catching up on some much-needed sleep. Being parents to a newborn baby wasn't easy.

 

 

As she rattled on to the police about the situation, Alya couldn't help but worry that this would be the end. She prayed it wouldn't.

 

 

///

 

 

I'm so sorry, I'm not sober anymore

 

 

Chloe woke up in a hospital room. She was alone. She did it again.

 

 

Four years of sobriety down the drain.

 

 

A nurse walked in, "Oh, you're awake. Let me call your friends. They'll be happy to know you're okay."

 

 

The nurse walked out before Chloe could say anything.

 

 

Sabrina, Nino, Alya, Marinette, Adrien, Nathaniel, Mylene, Alix, Kim, Max, Ivan, Rose and Juleka.

 

 

They were all there. They were always there. She burst into tears.

 

 

"I'm sorry." She whispered. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry..." she said it over and over again.

 

 

Marinette hugged her first, "It's okay."

 

 

"I'll do better next time, I'm sorry."

 

 

"I know, it's okay."

 

 

"But I ruined your honeymoon."

 

 

Adrien smiled at her over Marinette's shoulder, "Don't worry about that, there'll be more. You just focus on getting better."

 

 

Everyone hummed in agreement.

 

 

She closed her eyes and held Marinette tighter, "I'm sorry."

 

 

"It's okay. You'll be okay."

 

 

I'm sorry that I'm here again

I promise I'll get help

It wasn't my intention

 

I'm sorry to myself