The office reeked of booze when Pete walked in. Olivia was sprawled out on the couch along the window, a bottle of whiskey clutched in her hand. Pete shook his head but didn't say anything as he closed the door behind him. He was used to this by now anyway. He didn't need to vocalize his disappointment anymore.
"Get out." Olivia's voice was hoarse.
"You've got a meeting in an hour." Pete's voice was very monotone as he walked over to her desk and rummaged through the paperwork. "Have you looked at any of these files yet?" He glanced at her, but took her silence as a no and continued to thumb through them. "You know, if you're uncle sees you like this again he isn't going to be too happy." Pete looked over at Olivia then around the room, eyeing the lit candles that were seemed to have been lit for so long that the entirety of the wax was just liquid.
"What's he gonna do, fire me?" Her words slurred as she spoke. Pete turned around to fully face her. She didn't look up at him. "I built this place from the fucking ground up." She sat up straight and put the bottle on the table next to her. "He can get over it."
"I'm gonna have them move the meeting. Anyone asks, you got food poisoning." Pete held up his hand as she opened her mouth to protest. "And I'm taking you home."
"I'm fine."
"Right, and I'm a sixteen foot tall taking monkey." He rolled his eyes. "You're not going to argue." He doubted she had much energy to argue anyway. He left the papers on her desk and walked over to her, sitting down on the couch next to her. "You look like shit."
"Like you said, food poisoning." She finally looked over at him. He laced an arm around her back and under her armpits to hoist her up. She pushed against him and he stumbled, losing his grip and letting her fall back onto the couch. She tucked her legs up on the couch and rested her head on her knees. "You're an asshole, you know that."
"And you're an alcoholic who needs help."
"Fuck you."
"I thought we were stating facts." He said leaning back against the desk, folding his arms across his chest. He let out a long sigh, pulling his glasses off as he did to rub his eyes. "I can't help if you keep pushing back."
"You ever think it was because I don't want your help."
"Why?"
"Huh?" The question caught her off guard.
"Why don't you want my help?" He asked, slowly this time. She looked at him through narrow eyes as she thought for a moment. She didn't have an answer for that, she had never thought she would need one. "At least let me get you something to eat." He pushed off the desk and started towards the door.
"You aren't going to ask me what I want?"
"Burger, provolone cheese, pickles on the side, sweet potato fries." He didn't look at her as he spoke, reaching for the door knob.
"Thanks."
"I'll be back." He walked out of the office without so much as a second glance back at her. She sat there, staring at the half empty whiskey bottle and closed her eyes, holding her knees tight against her stomach. Her head was spinning, she was so tired, she felt like she hadn't slept in days, and now that she was thinking about food she was remembering how hungry she was.
Olivia hadn't always been like this, she hadn't always needed to drown herself in booze to get through the day, but something had happened, a turning point, that just seemed to keep getting worse. Though, she couldn't put her finger on exactly what it was, just an unfortunate circumstance of events that led her here. She didn't want to meet Pete halfway, if she met him and closed that gap between them, then she would have failed herself. To her, admitting that she had something wrong was a total failure. Pete knew that's how she thought, she knew that's how she thought, but she couldn't admit it.
She was frustrated, angry now, the more she thought about everything. She reached down and picked up the bottle, staring at it for a long while, taking in the dark brown liquid, the ornate glass bottle that shined in the light. Then, out of that anger, she threw it across the room. She didn't think. She just threw. The bottle went flying through the air, the liquid sloshing around but not escaping as the bottle spun. When it finally made contact with the wall it shattered. The liquid gushed down the wall and onto the counter and the floor. Olivia watched as the lit candles on the counter were doused in the alcohol, a few were knocked down to the floor.
She didn't move, she didn't really register as the candles didn't go out, but instead the flames started to spread. Her eyes slowly closed as her head rested on her knees. She didn't acknowledge the flames, didn't even look up to see them. But slowly they were spreading, over the carpeted floor, consuming the papers in the wire trash bin, eating up the alcohol that had splashed everywhere.
She just sat there, the flames weren't big enough to set of the smoke alarm yet, and even if they were she wouldn't have had the energy to stand up, to get out. So slowly, the flames spread, with nothing but fuel around them to eat up, they grew stronger. The room started to heat up, smoke started to rise, and still Olivia didn't notice. She was on the verge of sleep at this point, her mind slowly shutting off, her eyes shut and dark.
The flames started to consume the office, sparking the fire alarm which did jolt Olivia awake, but it was too late, the room in front of her was in flames, the door way blocked. She could hear pounding over the cackling of the fire coming from the door. "Liv! Are you in there?" Pete's voice was muffled by the thick wood of the door. Olivia staggered to her feet, stepping away from the flames and holding herself against the window, the only spot that wasn't currently on fire. But they flames were moving faster now, they were hungry and there was so much to eat in the office.
Suddenly, as the flames drew nearer, a set of hands came from nowhere, grabbing both of her shoulder from behind and tugging her backwards out of the flames. What had been the window behind her back, was now a complete mirror of her office, but there was no fire. She was facing the window now, watching the flames consume the office in front of her. As she turned around she saw Pete standing in the doorway looking at her. He tilted his head to the side and studied her. "How...but you were...and now...what?" She placed her hand on the window that was solid in front of her, but she could still feel those hands, she could feel them gripping her shoulder, jerking her backwards...but there were no hands, there was no one else. But she had been so sure of it.
"Are you alright?" He asked, holding up the bag of food. "I think you need to eat and get some sleep." He placed the bag on her desk and walked over to her, gently grabbing her upper arms and leaning down to look at her. "What is it?"
"I...I don't know." Her words shook. Her eyes were darting around the room, trying to think, trying to rationalize. She could still hear the crackle of the flames. She could still smell the smoke. But there was nothing. Then, as she looked back at Pete, the realization of it all had hit her and she crumbled into his arms, tears streaming down her cheeks.
