Strangers in the Storm ✔

Chapter 30: Hopeless and Homeless

DAMIEN

Everything was a blur.

The next couple of days blended together into a swirl of lights, music, debauchery and drugs. Damien's head pounded like he had a rock within his skull as he crawled out of the bed. At least he remembered to drop the blinds down. In fact, he never lifted them.

Grunting and wincing, Damien reached for the bottle of water on his nightstand and the phone next to it. He opened the lid and drank greedily, his dry mouth savouring the taste and his body appreciating hydration.

Damien glanced at the phone, "Battery at three fucking percent. Great."

In the darkness, he reached for the charger and immediately plugged the phone. Seven missed phone calls and four messages. Damien put the phone on his lap and pressed his temples; the pain wouldn't go away.

He opened the drawer and took a few painkillers before Mona's messages managed to cause an even worse headache. Then, he finally looked at his phone. 8PM.

You haven't cleaned Dana's house?! Nobody's been there since the funeral? What the hell is the matter with you? Where are you?

And right after that.

You have to pick up your mother's stuff from the hospital!

Andre's message was the third.

Hey, man, where are you?

And the last one from Mona.

Can this self-destructive asshole leave and functional Damien return? I'm considering ending this friendship, you know?

Damien ignored all messages and went through the phone calls. Just Mona and Andre. And Sergio, whom Damien forgot to pay for food.

Roxanne hasn't called. Not once. Not since the funeral.

And just like every day since the funeral, Damien dialled her number and let it ring in his ear for as long as possible. No answer. She hasn't answered once.

"Damien?" The voice that sounded way better when he was drunk murmured. "Come back to bed."

He faced the blonde entangled in his sheets, "It's time for you to go."

Her hazel eyes opened, "But it's early."

"It's 8PM." Damien answered.

"Shit, what?" The girl raised her head and pushed the covers off. "I have to get to work!"

"You better hurry." Damien stood up and walked out of the room.

After making himself some coffee and ordering a pizza, he waited for the girl to leave. Like an absolute cliché he couldn't remember her name, for the life of him. It didn't matter anyway, not as she waved on her way out and slammed the door.

Damien went through the list of his contacts. After he texted a couple of people, the worst kinds of people, he walked to the kitchen and took out the leftover gin. As he ate the pizza, a couple of people answered. Today was Friday, after all. Plenty of things to do.

After eating, showering and stopping by an ATM, Damien first headed to the casino. The booze was always cheap there. There, he met up with some people and they went to the second bar. Then the third bar. The club. Another club.

The hours intertwined, turning indistinguishable from one another. 10PM, 1AM, 3AM. They were all the same. They meant nothing. Every place, every hour, there was someone who wanted to numb something.

Except, they went home after. But Damien never stopped, he wouldn't stop. There, staggering through the streets, drunk and with his defences down, he battled his demons.