"Crawling Backwards" Ch 16
Title: Crawling Backwards
Author: 616HasGotAName
Fandom: Music/VAM
Summery: Ville is in love with Bam, but Bam only loves Ville when he’s drunk. By morning it’s forgotten and Bam goes on to believe that they’re still just friends. Ville puts up with it for his love, but it’s slowly killing him inside.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Pairing: VAM…eventually.
Rating: NC-17 in some parts…but generally it’s R
Warning: Drug Use
This lovely banner was made by the one and only annushkazhivago. Thanks bunches, doll!
As always, links behind the cut.
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
“You’re good for the money, right?”
“Uhm, sure. How much?”
“Just twenty bucks, I’m sure that’s like pocket change for a man like you.”
“Yeah, I can do twenty bucks. No problem.”
“Great, here’s what I promised. But don’t tell anyone where you got it from, okay?”
“Of course.”
~*~
I wandered down to the pirate bar, my feet shuffling against the hard wood floor as I was drawn closer and closer to the deafening sound of Bam’s drinking friends. I could hear Dico doing his infamous Jean Claude Van Dam impression and the uproarious laughter that followed. I could hear them, but the sound was muffled and hazy, as if I were walking through a tunnel. They sounded so far away.
Stumbling up to the bar, I felt Bam put a friendly arm around my shoulder and pull me into his chest. The sudden movement nearly knocked me off my feet.
“Hey Ville, where you been all day?” he asked, the question innocent but the words cutting into my flesh like a razorblade. I knew it was just a mindless question, but the answer sent a wave of guilt crashing through my system.
“Around,” I answered simply, trying to play the question off with a smile.
“Have you seen Novak? That fucker disappeared earlier and I haven’t seen him since.” I only shrugged, grabbing the beer from Bam’s hand and bringing it to my lips. The liquid was bitter against my tongue, but I forced it down in one big gulp and moved on to the nearby bottle of Jack. Two shots later, I felt about ready to vomit.
Pushing myself away from the bar, I staggered a bit before turning to leave. It felt as if my feet were working against me, trying with all their might to get me to stumble to the ground and make an ass of myself. There was no way I was this smashed already. It must have been…
“You feeling okay, Ville?” The question was quick and it took me a second to realize that someone was talking to me. Spinning to my side, the motion making me dizzy and intensifying the feeling of nausea, I saw Bam give me a concerned look.
“Yeah,” my tongue felt heavy. I tried to push the words out of my mouth but it was as if they were made of lead weights. “Yeah, I’m just a little tired. That’s all, love.”
He flashed a smile at me, forced and unbelieving, before pulling me away from the bar with a firm hand on my shoulder. “Are you sure? I can walk you back to your room if you’d like.”
I shook my head frantically, the motion causing a tidal wave in my brain as my hands shot up to grip on to him. I was falling. I needed a rock to pull me back up. He caught me just on time, his hands gripping my forearms with so much force I thought I would bleed.
“Dude, were you drinking earlier? You’re fucking wasted.” I felt him haul me back to my feet, one hand staying in its place for extra support.
“Yeah,” I lied. I lied and I loved it. For once I felt like I had the control. I felt invincible. “Walk with me?”
He was a sucker for the childlike face I was giving him, always has been. With a curt nod and a quick smile, he once more placed his arm around my shoulder and guided me toward the stairs. I could feel his heart pounding in his chest; practically hear the wheels turning in his head. I knew what he was thinking. He was wondering how I had gotten myself into the situation I was currently in. He was wondering how much I had drunk to get me as trashed as I was. He was wondering what he was going to do about it.
As we reached the heartagram engraved door, he bent forward slightly to push the knob but I stopped him. My large hand practically swallowed his as I pulled it back, ignoring the questioning look on his face before my lips crashed into his. It was sloppy and quick, but my message got across clear as day. He nodded again, and this time I let him open the door.
We were on the bed in seconds, hands roaming freely and trying to peel off layers of unnecessary clothing. I tried not to move too much as his lips latched on to my neck; desperate and needy and perfectly arousing. My fingers scratched thin red lines down his back as he made quick work of my belt and pants. It was fast paced and fueled by drunken passion-something I thought I would never crave again from this man, something that I was desperate for at that moment.
He was inside of me without warning. I couldn’t feel a damned thing, but I knew he was there. Just the knowledge of what we were doing, not the sensation, was enough to get me off. No words were spoken as we fucked ruthlessly on the rumpled bed, only grunts and moans filling the silence. I didn’t feel it when he came inside of me, I didn’t feel it when he collapsed on top of me, his breath labored and his chest heaving. I didn’t feel it when he placed a loving kiss on my forehead. But I smiled up at him and pretended. I played my own little game and he played his, and time seemed to slip away from us as we laid there in silence.
The bed shifted slightly as he rolled off of me, one arm draped over my chest as he nuzzled his face in the crook of my neck. I leaned into his touch, pretending that I knew he was there when in actuality it felt as if I were alone. His eyes slipped closed, his breathing evened out, and he fell asleep. Just like that. It was over. I watched him for a few precious seconds, my mind moving in slow-motion as I tried to put the pieces of the night back together.
I couldn’t think. I didn’t want to. I just laid there, staring down at him as he mumbled in his sleep. And within seconds I was out.
~*~
I awoke the next morning to an empty bed. The realization hit me like a sledge hammer, that familiar sense of panic rising up in my chest and causing the air in my lungs to disappear. He was gone. He had left me. He really didn’t love me.
“No,” I whispered softly, trying to reassure myself of what I knew was true. “He’s probably just in the bathroom or some shit.”
It took me what seemed like hours to peel myself from the comfortable bed. I pulled on my pants from the night before, discarding the boxers out of pure laziness, before heading down the hallway. I checked the bathroom but it was empty. The large house was silent-a rare occasion. I began to panic again, knowing that my worst nightmare had finally come true, when I heard a loud crash from the kitchen. Practically sprinting down the stairs, I ran through the castle as fast as I could before stopping in the dinning room.
“You’re up early,” I heard him call from the kitchen, quickly followed by another crash. Taking a deep breath, I walked forward, only to find him slaving over a mixing bowl; his black Adio shirt covered in white flower. He saw me staring at the contraption in his hands. “I thought I’d make you some breakfast,” he shrugged. “Sorry if I woke you up.”
“Oh, no, it’s alright,” I mumbled, my mind still racing as I took a seat at the small island in the center of the kitchen. “I needed to get up anyway.”
He put the bowl down on the counter, swatting at the cloud of flower dust, and walked over to me. “Are you sure? You were fucking hammered last night; you’re probably hung-over as fuck.”
I tried to retrace my memory for any signs of what I did the night before, trying to remember exactly why there wasn’t a splitting headache threatening to make my brain explode. And then I remembered.
“Yeah, I do,” I lied again. “But I’ll get over it. I’m Finnish, remember? Drinking is my life.”
He laughed and pulled a small bottle of Aspirin from a nearby cupboard. I took the offered pills with a smile, popping them without any water. “So what’cha making?”
I watched as he glanced over his shoulder at the menacing stirring bowl, a frown crossing his features before he laughed. “Well, it was supposed to be pancakes, but I think I fucked that up. Is cereal good for you?”
I found myself laughing despite myself. “Cereal would be marvelous, sweetheart.”
He turned away in an effort to hide the blush painting his cheeks a beautiful shade of pink, but I caught it. While his back was turned to me, him digging through the cupboards for the boxes of sugared goodness, I found myself wondering what the fuck was wrong with me. How could I have actually thought he would leave me? How could I suspect such a thing from a man who’s shown me nothing but love the past couple of days? It was selfish and wrong. I felt as if I had betrayed his trust, even if he had no clue what torment I had gone through only minutes ago. I felt as if I didn’t deserve the kindness he was showing me now.
He turned back to me, a box of Froot-Loops in his hand and a proud smile gracing his lips. “Found it!”
I shook my head at him, a smile of my own playing at the corners of my lips. This is what I loved about the man before me. This is what I looked forward to every waking moment of my life. This is what I needed.
~*~
I didn’t realize how late I had crawled out of bed until I saw the sun setting only a couple of hours later. The castle seemed to come alive as the sun crept behind the horizon, an army of Bam’s obnoxious friends filling each room and making as much noise as possible. Things were broken, music was blasted, and stunt-induced blood was spilled. Just another night in Castle Bam.
Bam was off socializing with one of his skate buddies, talking loud enough for me to hear him from across the room. Of course, every word out of his mouth sounded like Japanese to me-I would never understand skate lingo. I found myself standing off to the side, a glass of brandy clutched in my hand but never taking a sip. I didn’t want to be drunk. Rather, I wanted a different kind of buzz. I wasn’t entirely sure what, but I knew of someone who would be able to figure that part out for me.
There was no one to notice me as I walked away from the crowd, pushing through the sea of strangers to find myself heading out the back door. The loud death meatl was audible through the walls of the castle, but it was muted and added an almost dreamlike surrealism to the beautiful night. I walked past the Hobbit Hole, past the garage, past the halfpipe. I walked past the field that spread across a large expanse of Bam’s yard and made my way to the memorial of Fast Eddie’s Tree-Top Casino. From the ground I could hear the soft voices talking, but I couldn’t distinguish what was being said. I knew who was up there. He had told me to meet him here if I ever needed anything, and right then I definitely needed something.
Climbing up the decrepit wooden ladder, I listened as the floorboards creaked beneath my feet and a hushed silence fell over the people within. They were just as nervous as I was, of this I was sure. I could be anybody sneaking up there to catch them in the act. I could be Bam. I could be a cop.
I pulled myself through the small hole in the floor, smiling brightly as Novak’s face lit up and he helped me stand. There were four other people sitting Indian-style on the floor, faces that I had never seen before. They each cast me a confused glance before Novak spoke up in my defense. “This is Ville, he’s one cool motherfucker. Get to know him.”
The guys laughed, not really caring who I was or what I was doing here. It felt good not to be coddled over. They went back to their own conversations, Novak wrapping a friendly arm around my shoulders and motioning for me to have a seat.
“So what can I do you for, my man?” It was a simple question, but one that I couldn’t find the answer to. He looked at me expectantly, his eyebrows arched far over his eyes.
“Uhm,” I felt like a moron sitting there. I felt like a virgin. But, in retrospect, I suppose that’s what I was. There was nothing to be ashamed of, everyone needs that first time. Clearing my throat, I said, “What about that stuff you gave me the other night?”
“Xanax?” The name rang a bell so I nodded. “I’m fresh out of that, bro. But I do have something that’s a million times better. It’s a bit more expensive, but I’m sure we don’t have to worry about that.”
He didn’t wait for my answer before he started riffling though his pockets, a triumphant grin spreading across his features when he pulled out a small Ziploc bag. Inside was some sort of white powder, but what it was I couldn’t say.
Curiosity finally got the best of me, so I asked, “What’s that?”
“The good shit,” he smiled. “Coke.”
My heart skipped a beat at that simple, one syllable word. It held so much power; so much destruction. I was about to decline the generous offer, but Novak tossed the small bag down before me. I stared at it for what seemed like centuries, my mind spinning as the menacing powder seemed to glare back up at me. It was wrong, I shouldn’t do it. But…what if it could help?
“What’ll it do for me?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. I heard one of Novak’s friends laugh somewhere to my right, but I quickly ignored it.
He eyed the bag for a second before facing me, “It’s an upper-it’ll make you feel like you’re on top of the fucking world.”
“I thought you were more of a heroin man…” I was trying to make simple conversation, but it didn’t seem to be working out.
He only shrugged, his eyes slipping closed in that eternally high look that he always had. “Yeah, well sometimes you need a little extra pep to get you through the day. I’m sure you know what that’s like.”
I found myself nodding without meaning to. I did know how that felt. I knew how it felt to be completely drained of both energy and life. I knew how hard it was to live like that, knowing that you were stuck in a dark void where nobody could hear you scream. I knew that there was only one person who was ever able to bring me out of that darkness-and he was inside getting drunk with his friends.
Without saying anything I snatched up the bag, fingering the plastic lightly and watching as the grainy texture slithered about my thumb. If this would help, I was willing to try it. But there was one problem: I had no fucking idea what to do.
“Uhm…” for the second time that night I cursed my innocence. “This may sound lame, but what exactly do I do?”
Novak laughed, but it wasn’t a harsh, ridiculing laugh. It was a sound of friendship and understanding. “Don’t worry about it, everyone’s nervous their first time. No one expects you to know what to do. I’ll set it up for you, okay?”
All I could do was nod as he stole the bag from me, quickly emptying a small pile out on a nearby CD case. I watched as he pulled a maxed out credit card from his pocket, easily separating the pile into thin but perfect lines. There were four of them in all. Nervously rubbing his nose, I watched vigilantly as he leaned over and snorted the line in one swift movement. It wasn’t what I expected. His head didn’t shoot back like in the movies; he didn’t cough or hemorrhage from his nose. He just leaned back and passed the CD case toward me.
“See, easy as that, bro,” he made the words sound so guiltless.
My hands were shaking as I clutched the case between two outstretched fingers, willing myself to calm down before I spilt to contents all over the ground. A nervous ball formed in the pit of my stomach. I glanced up at Novak, sighing as he gave me the international ‘go ahead’ nod. Closing my eyes, I leant down with one finger closing up my left nostril. And then I did something I never thought I’d do before. I snorted a line of coke.
The pain was excruciating. It felt like my nose was on fire. The grainy substance shot trough my nose and down my throat, burning a scorching path to God knows where. It felt like inhaling a bucket of sand. A bucket of sand drenched in acid. My hands shot to my nose, nearly dropping the CD case that was balanced neatly on my knee cap, as I felt for blood that wasn’t there. Surely I had to be mistaken; the pain was too great for there not to be blood. When my hands came away clean, I sighed and leaned against the back wall.
My heart was racing and I didn’t notice that my breathing was labored. I could feel my pulse throbbing throughout my entire body. My fingers twitched with the pain of defiled blood rushing through my system.
I nearly jumped out of my skin when Novak placed a friendly hand on my shoulder. “There you have it sweetheart, you’re officially a rock star.”
What had I done?
~*~
Don't shoot me. *Hides*
Sorry it was short. And it seems to move a bit too fast. And maybe I'm taking things a little too far with the whole drug thing. But I was getting bored with the story ((shame)) and decided to spice things up a bit.
Yeah.
Sorry.
Author: 616HasGotAName
Fandom: Music/VAM
Summery: Ville is in love with Bam, but Bam only loves Ville when he’s drunk. By morning it’s forgotten and Bam goes on to believe that they’re still just friends. Ville puts up with it for his love, but it’s slowly killing him inside.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Pairing: VAM…eventually.
Rating: NC-17 in some parts…but generally it’s R
Warning: Drug Use
This lovely banner was made by the one and only annushkazhivago. Thanks bunches, doll!
As always, links behind the cut.
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
“You’re good for the money, right?”
“Uhm, sure. How much?”
“Just twenty bucks, I’m sure that’s like pocket change for a man like you.”
“Yeah, I can do twenty bucks. No problem.”
“Great, here’s what I promised. But don’t tell anyone where you got it from, okay?”
“Of course.”
~*~
I wandered down to the pirate bar, my feet shuffling against the hard wood floor as I was drawn closer and closer to the deafening sound of Bam’s drinking friends. I could hear Dico doing his infamous Jean Claude Van Dam impression and the uproarious laughter that followed. I could hear them, but the sound was muffled and hazy, as if I were walking through a tunnel. They sounded so far away.
Stumbling up to the bar, I felt Bam put a friendly arm around my shoulder and pull me into his chest. The sudden movement nearly knocked me off my feet.
“Hey Ville, where you been all day?” he asked, the question innocent but the words cutting into my flesh like a razorblade. I knew it was just a mindless question, but the answer sent a wave of guilt crashing through my system.
“Around,” I answered simply, trying to play the question off with a smile.
“Have you seen Novak? That fucker disappeared earlier and I haven’t seen him since.” I only shrugged, grabbing the beer from Bam’s hand and bringing it to my lips. The liquid was bitter against my tongue, but I forced it down in one big gulp and moved on to the nearby bottle of Jack. Two shots later, I felt about ready to vomit.
Pushing myself away from the bar, I staggered a bit before turning to leave. It felt as if my feet were working against me, trying with all their might to get me to stumble to the ground and make an ass of myself. There was no way I was this smashed already. It must have been…
“You feeling okay, Ville?” The question was quick and it took me a second to realize that someone was talking to me. Spinning to my side, the motion making me dizzy and intensifying the feeling of nausea, I saw Bam give me a concerned look.
“Yeah,” my tongue felt heavy. I tried to push the words out of my mouth but it was as if they were made of lead weights. “Yeah, I’m just a little tired. That’s all, love.”
He flashed a smile at me, forced and unbelieving, before pulling me away from the bar with a firm hand on my shoulder. “Are you sure? I can walk you back to your room if you’d like.”
I shook my head frantically, the motion causing a tidal wave in my brain as my hands shot up to grip on to him. I was falling. I needed a rock to pull me back up. He caught me just on time, his hands gripping my forearms with so much force I thought I would bleed.
“Dude, were you drinking earlier? You’re fucking wasted.” I felt him haul me back to my feet, one hand staying in its place for extra support.
“Yeah,” I lied. I lied and I loved it. For once I felt like I had the control. I felt invincible. “Walk with me?”
He was a sucker for the childlike face I was giving him, always has been. With a curt nod and a quick smile, he once more placed his arm around my shoulder and guided me toward the stairs. I could feel his heart pounding in his chest; practically hear the wheels turning in his head. I knew what he was thinking. He was wondering how I had gotten myself into the situation I was currently in. He was wondering how much I had drunk to get me as trashed as I was. He was wondering what he was going to do about it.
As we reached the heartagram engraved door, he bent forward slightly to push the knob but I stopped him. My large hand practically swallowed his as I pulled it back, ignoring the questioning look on his face before my lips crashed into his. It was sloppy and quick, but my message got across clear as day. He nodded again, and this time I let him open the door.
We were on the bed in seconds, hands roaming freely and trying to peel off layers of unnecessary clothing. I tried not to move too much as his lips latched on to my neck; desperate and needy and perfectly arousing. My fingers scratched thin red lines down his back as he made quick work of my belt and pants. It was fast paced and fueled by drunken passion-something I thought I would never crave again from this man, something that I was desperate for at that moment.
He was inside of me without warning. I couldn’t feel a damned thing, but I knew he was there. Just the knowledge of what we were doing, not the sensation, was enough to get me off. No words were spoken as we fucked ruthlessly on the rumpled bed, only grunts and moans filling the silence. I didn’t feel it when he came inside of me, I didn’t feel it when he collapsed on top of me, his breath labored and his chest heaving. I didn’t feel it when he placed a loving kiss on my forehead. But I smiled up at him and pretended. I played my own little game and he played his, and time seemed to slip away from us as we laid there in silence.
The bed shifted slightly as he rolled off of me, one arm draped over my chest as he nuzzled his face in the crook of my neck. I leaned into his touch, pretending that I knew he was there when in actuality it felt as if I were alone. His eyes slipped closed, his breathing evened out, and he fell asleep. Just like that. It was over. I watched him for a few precious seconds, my mind moving in slow-motion as I tried to put the pieces of the night back together.
I couldn’t think. I didn’t want to. I just laid there, staring down at him as he mumbled in his sleep. And within seconds I was out.
~*~
I awoke the next morning to an empty bed. The realization hit me like a sledge hammer, that familiar sense of panic rising up in my chest and causing the air in my lungs to disappear. He was gone. He had left me. He really didn’t love me.
“No,” I whispered softly, trying to reassure myself of what I knew was true. “He’s probably just in the bathroom or some shit.”
It took me what seemed like hours to peel myself from the comfortable bed. I pulled on my pants from the night before, discarding the boxers out of pure laziness, before heading down the hallway. I checked the bathroom but it was empty. The large house was silent-a rare occasion. I began to panic again, knowing that my worst nightmare had finally come true, when I heard a loud crash from the kitchen. Practically sprinting down the stairs, I ran through the castle as fast as I could before stopping in the dinning room.
“You’re up early,” I heard him call from the kitchen, quickly followed by another crash. Taking a deep breath, I walked forward, only to find him slaving over a mixing bowl; his black Adio shirt covered in white flower. He saw me staring at the contraption in his hands. “I thought I’d make you some breakfast,” he shrugged. “Sorry if I woke you up.”
“Oh, no, it’s alright,” I mumbled, my mind still racing as I took a seat at the small island in the center of the kitchen. “I needed to get up anyway.”
He put the bowl down on the counter, swatting at the cloud of flower dust, and walked over to me. “Are you sure? You were fucking hammered last night; you’re probably hung-over as fuck.”
I tried to retrace my memory for any signs of what I did the night before, trying to remember exactly why there wasn’t a splitting headache threatening to make my brain explode. And then I remembered.
“Yeah, I do,” I lied again. “But I’ll get over it. I’m Finnish, remember? Drinking is my life.”
He laughed and pulled a small bottle of Aspirin from a nearby cupboard. I took the offered pills with a smile, popping them without any water. “So what’cha making?”
I watched as he glanced over his shoulder at the menacing stirring bowl, a frown crossing his features before he laughed. “Well, it was supposed to be pancakes, but I think I fucked that up. Is cereal good for you?”
I found myself laughing despite myself. “Cereal would be marvelous, sweetheart.”
He turned away in an effort to hide the blush painting his cheeks a beautiful shade of pink, but I caught it. While his back was turned to me, him digging through the cupboards for the boxes of sugared goodness, I found myself wondering what the fuck was wrong with me. How could I have actually thought he would leave me? How could I suspect such a thing from a man who’s shown me nothing but love the past couple of days? It was selfish and wrong. I felt as if I had betrayed his trust, even if he had no clue what torment I had gone through only minutes ago. I felt as if I didn’t deserve the kindness he was showing me now.
He turned back to me, a box of Froot-Loops in his hand and a proud smile gracing his lips. “Found it!”
I shook my head at him, a smile of my own playing at the corners of my lips. This is what I loved about the man before me. This is what I looked forward to every waking moment of my life. This is what I needed.
~*~
I didn’t realize how late I had crawled out of bed until I saw the sun setting only a couple of hours later. The castle seemed to come alive as the sun crept behind the horizon, an army of Bam’s obnoxious friends filling each room and making as much noise as possible. Things were broken, music was blasted, and stunt-induced blood was spilled. Just another night in Castle Bam.
Bam was off socializing with one of his skate buddies, talking loud enough for me to hear him from across the room. Of course, every word out of his mouth sounded like Japanese to me-I would never understand skate lingo. I found myself standing off to the side, a glass of brandy clutched in my hand but never taking a sip. I didn’t want to be drunk. Rather, I wanted a different kind of buzz. I wasn’t entirely sure what, but I knew of someone who would be able to figure that part out for me.
There was no one to notice me as I walked away from the crowd, pushing through the sea of strangers to find myself heading out the back door. The loud death meatl was audible through the walls of the castle, but it was muted and added an almost dreamlike surrealism to the beautiful night. I walked past the Hobbit Hole, past the garage, past the halfpipe. I walked past the field that spread across a large expanse of Bam’s yard and made my way to the memorial of Fast Eddie’s Tree-Top Casino. From the ground I could hear the soft voices talking, but I couldn’t distinguish what was being said. I knew who was up there. He had told me to meet him here if I ever needed anything, and right then I definitely needed something.
Climbing up the decrepit wooden ladder, I listened as the floorboards creaked beneath my feet and a hushed silence fell over the people within. They were just as nervous as I was, of this I was sure. I could be anybody sneaking up there to catch them in the act. I could be Bam. I could be a cop.
I pulled myself through the small hole in the floor, smiling brightly as Novak’s face lit up and he helped me stand. There were four other people sitting Indian-style on the floor, faces that I had never seen before. They each cast me a confused glance before Novak spoke up in my defense. “This is Ville, he’s one cool motherfucker. Get to know him.”
The guys laughed, not really caring who I was or what I was doing here. It felt good not to be coddled over. They went back to their own conversations, Novak wrapping a friendly arm around my shoulders and motioning for me to have a seat.
“So what can I do you for, my man?” It was a simple question, but one that I couldn’t find the answer to. He looked at me expectantly, his eyebrows arched far over his eyes.
“Uhm,” I felt like a moron sitting there. I felt like a virgin. But, in retrospect, I suppose that’s what I was. There was nothing to be ashamed of, everyone needs that first time. Clearing my throat, I said, “What about that stuff you gave me the other night?”
“Xanax?” The name rang a bell so I nodded. “I’m fresh out of that, bro. But I do have something that’s a million times better. It’s a bit more expensive, but I’m sure we don’t have to worry about that.”
He didn’t wait for my answer before he started riffling though his pockets, a triumphant grin spreading across his features when he pulled out a small Ziploc bag. Inside was some sort of white powder, but what it was I couldn’t say.
Curiosity finally got the best of me, so I asked, “What’s that?”
“The good shit,” he smiled. “Coke.”
My heart skipped a beat at that simple, one syllable word. It held so much power; so much destruction. I was about to decline the generous offer, but Novak tossed the small bag down before me. I stared at it for what seemed like centuries, my mind spinning as the menacing powder seemed to glare back up at me. It was wrong, I shouldn’t do it. But…what if it could help?
“What’ll it do for me?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. I heard one of Novak’s friends laugh somewhere to my right, but I quickly ignored it.
He eyed the bag for a second before facing me, “It’s an upper-it’ll make you feel like you’re on top of the fucking world.”
“I thought you were more of a heroin man…” I was trying to make simple conversation, but it didn’t seem to be working out.
He only shrugged, his eyes slipping closed in that eternally high look that he always had. “Yeah, well sometimes you need a little extra pep to get you through the day. I’m sure you know what that’s like.”
I found myself nodding without meaning to. I did know how that felt. I knew how it felt to be completely drained of both energy and life. I knew how hard it was to live like that, knowing that you were stuck in a dark void where nobody could hear you scream. I knew that there was only one person who was ever able to bring me out of that darkness-and he was inside getting drunk with his friends.
Without saying anything I snatched up the bag, fingering the plastic lightly and watching as the grainy texture slithered about my thumb. If this would help, I was willing to try it. But there was one problem: I had no fucking idea what to do.
“Uhm…” for the second time that night I cursed my innocence. “This may sound lame, but what exactly do I do?”
Novak laughed, but it wasn’t a harsh, ridiculing laugh. It was a sound of friendship and understanding. “Don’t worry about it, everyone’s nervous their first time. No one expects you to know what to do. I’ll set it up for you, okay?”
All I could do was nod as he stole the bag from me, quickly emptying a small pile out on a nearby CD case. I watched as he pulled a maxed out credit card from his pocket, easily separating the pile into thin but perfect lines. There were four of them in all. Nervously rubbing his nose, I watched vigilantly as he leaned over and snorted the line in one swift movement. It wasn’t what I expected. His head didn’t shoot back like in the movies; he didn’t cough or hemorrhage from his nose. He just leaned back and passed the CD case toward me.
“See, easy as that, bro,” he made the words sound so guiltless.
My hands were shaking as I clutched the case between two outstretched fingers, willing myself to calm down before I spilt to contents all over the ground. A nervous ball formed in the pit of my stomach. I glanced up at Novak, sighing as he gave me the international ‘go ahead’ nod. Closing my eyes, I leant down with one finger closing up my left nostril. And then I did something I never thought I’d do before. I snorted a line of coke.
The pain was excruciating. It felt like my nose was on fire. The grainy substance shot trough my nose and down my throat, burning a scorching path to God knows where. It felt like inhaling a bucket of sand. A bucket of sand drenched in acid. My hands shot to my nose, nearly dropping the CD case that was balanced neatly on my knee cap, as I felt for blood that wasn’t there. Surely I had to be mistaken; the pain was too great for there not to be blood. When my hands came away clean, I sighed and leaned against the back wall.
My heart was racing and I didn’t notice that my breathing was labored. I could feel my pulse throbbing throughout my entire body. My fingers twitched with the pain of defiled blood rushing through my system.
I nearly jumped out of my skin when Novak placed a friendly hand on my shoulder. “There you have it sweetheart, you’re officially a rock star.”
What had I done?
~*~
Don't shoot me. *Hides*
Sorry it was short. And it seems to move a bit too fast. And maybe I'm taking things a little too far with the whole drug thing. But I was getting bored with the story ((shame)) and decided to spice things up a bit.
Yeah.
Sorry.