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Chapter 4.

Although the remnants of partial pyrexia still sent beads of sticky sweat dripping from every ounce of skin, vomiting had helped allow me to become even the slightest bit more lucid. Though, with Simon's help I was now progressively more woozy than before.

Simon's hand gripped my forearm tightly as we stumbled back out into the lively club from our sweet but short session. I couldn't help but wonder if it was out of his usual unsettlement, or maybe because he didn't want to lose me amongst the crowd. His fingers began tracing again as we stood there - lightly and soothingly across the bare skin of my arm. An adoring shiver tingled up my spine, gesturing me to keep walking. I didn't want to lose composure altogether, but Simon's touch had an awful habit of sending me reeling.

"I need to find Perry!" The slurring that came from my mouth almost didn't sound like my own voice. Simon cocked a brow. "Perry?" He questioned, now hollering over the music too. Our trip to sniff Simon out was a story I wasn't willing to explain. "Follow me...I think..." too discomposed, I couldn't quite remember where I had left Perry dancing. The whole evening had felt like a twisted game of cat and mouse; and I was the mouse.

"Oi-" Simon squeezed my arm harder to stop me from turning away. "Just leave it, he'll be fine." His aloof, reassuring words were out of character. "But-" I grappled, just as the blinding yellow strobe lights suddenly fluttered our way; radiating across Simon's eyes to reveal his amplified pupils. He grinned soppily with the fulgent yellow revealing his prominent, manly features. I couldn't stop myself from giggling in awe. I was smitten with every last part of him. "What's so f-funny?" He stammered, swimming in his own alcoholic bewilderment. "Nothing." I snickered, naturally falling foward to rest my head upon his chest. "Just missed you..." a faint whisper of the truth. I sighed into him, he was warm with the comforting scent of home. I wanted to ask if it had been me he was upset at earlier on in the day, but the moment passed and he pulled me up to look at him.

His abrupt expression of futility made my heart drop. Why was he staring like that? I took a step back, startled. "Simon..." I began, ready for him to spew hatred at me once again. I feared my woes were right. His eyebrows knitted together in concentration. A lax inhale; "I love you." He proposed quietly. I blinked in process. Was that it? A breath of relief fell from me. "I know that, stupid sod." I tutted, chuckling into his lips and kissing sloppily in my unsteadiness. It didn't matter how many times he'd said those three simple words to me in the past, I was filled with lust and a loving sense of security each time I heard them. I loved him too, no longer interested to know a thing about his strop. I took his hand, intertwining our fingers and beckoning. "Think I know where Ted might be."

I scanned the tireless club, looking for the back rooms that the bartender lead me to beforehand. "There!" An LED sign in the same bright blood red from outside, reading explicities was hung up over an open passageway. The themed, florescent, maroon colour flooded the corridor. That had to be it.

I practically skimmed Simon's sluggish body along the wall, dragging him by the hand as we circled around the dancers who seemed to never tire out from the buzz of drink and drugs. "Where we going?" He slurred, flushing at the sight of two boys hastily sucking eachothers faces off up against the wall, just beyond the daunting, tunnel-like entrance. "Down the rabbit hole." I smirked facetiously, and we slipped passed them, carelessly. Simon's intoxicated negligence humoured me greatly, he was willing to follow me anywhere.

The music no longer blared, now fading as we sauntered deeper; met with rows of shut doors on either side - some fixed with bolts. I was slowly beginning to feel the dread of being a mouse once more - trapped in a maze this time, not quite sure where I was or what I was looking for. "Thought it would be here..." the slow endurance of psychosis had come creeping back and once again doors began to warp - along with a clear thought process. "What're we looking for?" Came Simon's helpless question. We were completely out of it, blissfully unaware of the presence. "Off our heads..." I spluttered, saying what I saw. I turned to him again. His gruff chuckle filled me with a childlike bliss. And as we stood there, totally alone and lost in vermilion limelight, I wished him mine. "You're...beautiful..." I said without thinking; my words vibrating through my entire being, watching as Simon's bottom lip parted. His luminously tinted mouth appeared beyond kissable. "Robert, I-" he gaped in seriousness.

"Fucking alright!" An immediate, unknown voice then snapped. Simon flinched from his words. The moment was gone and our heads snapped toward the angry source. One of the many, heavy doors to our left creaked open. A staggered, brawny man came limping out. "And stay out!" Someone from inside the room yelled defensively. I knew that voice. Snapping myself back to reality, I studied his tone as he muttered insults to himself as the door began to close. The blatantly unwelcomed, older man shoved his way through Simon and I as I hurried to catch the door with my hand before it shut. "Matt!" I called out. And to my reassurance that voice did infact belong to Matt. He poked his mop of blonde hair out. "Robert? Shit." He sniffed, flinging remnant traces of cocaine from his nostril once more before opening the door fully. "What're you doing back here?" He beamed, putting on his best appeased face. "You want more stuff I suppose?"

"Who was that?" I cut him off, not particularly caring for who it was, though not remembering what I was meant to be asking either. "He came in for some blow, tried to get frisky, so I kicked him out." He shrugged. "We get alot like him." He complained, talking far too quickly for my inebriated liking. "Default of working the night shift-" now he was the one cutting himself off. He peered behind me with an instant sharp intake of breath. "No way!" He exclaimed, clasping his hand over his mouth as if he'd caught sight of something astounding. "You didn't tell me Simon was here too!" I looked over my shoulder towards Simon's sheepish grin. I didn't know he was here either. I wanted to say. "H-Hello..." Simon waved his hand once awkwardly. He'd never been a people person in his life, unless they were the right type of people. English and down to earth, as he'd say. Matt was certainly neither of those things, and his sheer joy from our useless arrival almost made me laugh aloud.

"Oh right! Come in!" He finally finished gawking. Greatful to be away from the world-weary and too-bright-light, we stepped into the warm, dimness. "This is Robert...and Simon, the ones I was telling you about." Matt intoned, gesturing to an almost unnoticeable silhouette, sprawled upon the bed. The shiny tint of leather and the sharp squeak of rubber upon the mattress left me feeling near-daunted, despite the humiliating attire. His face was masked by the dark. "Good to meet you." His accent was strange and low - intimidatingly so. I assumed him to be a client. I looked to Simon to grab his reaction but he only stared dolorously; as depersonalised as I was.

"You two want something then?" Matt questioned, wandering to table in the corner to roll what I suspected to be spliff. "I've got...let's see...popper's left." His low stock made me curious as just to how many customers he saw to per night. I shook the thought away. Another substance and i'd end up washed up somewhere on an Auburn hills beach in the morning. "No thanks....we need to...um." I knew we'd gone looking for Matt for a reason, but thought perception had once again dissipated. "Have you seen Perry?" Simon asked as clear as day. I was almost shocked at his ability to remember. My memory was patently betraying me. "Yes! Perry!" Frustration wracked me. I just wanted to sink into my pillow, not physically able to withstand another minute of torturous confusion.

Matt took a long drag on his blunt, blowing the smoke in the general direction of the older submissive, waiting patiently upon the bed. "Think I saw him go off with some guy awhile back." He pondered. "Sure that was him." He nodded in confirmation to himself. But without a doubt, he was too high to know what he was talking about. "Pez? With a bloke?" Simon scoffed aloud, "Funniest thing I've heard all evening!" He jeered, sneering at Matt. "Can't expect me to remember every guy who comes passed here can you!?" Matt rolled his eyes - the annoyance in his tone not quite muffled by a slow intake of weed. "I don't really wanna leave without him though..." I trailed off in contemplation, wishing my brain would function enough even for a moment to allow me to just think. Perry was surely capable of looking after himself, or so I thought. His sensible attitude only ever left him in ruts if me or Simon encouraged him into our stupidity. Bringing him into my mess was once again my fault. I wished I wasn't so rash. He certainly didn't deserve to be deserted, yet the drugs had apparently washed out all empathy.

"If he's not dumb, he'll be having a pint at the bar by now." The subs deep voice inquired. He couldn't have been wrong, I wasn't sure what options were left. "Exactly! Right, let's go then-" Simon impatiently grasped at my wrist, desperately pulling me, but I stopped in my tracks. "Matt?" I needed to end things on good terms, I couldn't bear the possibility of him telling others we'd been seen in here. It would be the downfall of not only the cure, but of my closest relationships. "See you at the show tomorrow." I gave a weak half-smile, hoping it was enough. "Hope you find your guitarist by then, boys." He kidded, gesturing us to hurry along with his hands. "Thanks again, for the uh, stuff." I called as Simon distressedly escorted me to the door, mumbling something about not wanting a pansy like him at the show. "Speak for yourself." I mocked at his jealousy.