Past the Tipping Point

\ Chapter 17 /

As Colby roamed the streets alone, he recognized some familiar and some foreign. Some that hadn't changed a bit and ones that were completely revamped.

He planned on walking until his legs protested, clearly trying to escape his thoughts. But unfortunately for him, they were located in his brain, and walking wasn't helping him.

All hope seemed to be lost until he found himself face-to-face with a more than familiar place. One that used to be a favourite. A bar that used to be a second home. He found himself standing in the doorway, staring at the sign, unsure as to whether he actually wanted to reopen the old wounds that had occurred in that place.

Fuck it.

Colby walked in, and straightaway, it was like walking into a memory he had made years ago. It was like he had never left it. Like he was living it for the first time.

The interior was identical to the way it used to be. The pictures on the walls were the same—crooked and frames cracked just as before—the booths and chairs and tables hadn't moved an inch. It, more than his apartment, felt like coming home.

He seated himself at the bar and leaned his elbows against it, hunching over, mentally and physically exhausted. Not only that but he was drained emotionally. He was doing his best to keep it all in check, but every now and then, in the silence, he wondered if crying or breaking something would do him better.

Now, most of all, he was just annoyed. At himself and Rebecca. So he decided he was going to allow himself to loosen up a bit, and he ordered a drink. About halfway through the beer bottle, Colby paused, staring at the liquid.

This makes me no different than her.

Except it did. It was nowhere near the same. His conscience was harshly reminding him. She was addicted. He was doing it leisurely.

Yeah, but this is how it always starts.

Colby bounced back and forth between his mental dispute, and before he knew it, hours had gone by, and he'd been staring into the same bottle. He swallowed it all faster than he did his pride, and from that point on, he made an attempt to keep his mind completely empty.

A few more hours had passed, and the sunset haze filled the bar through the windows. Colby wasn't essentially hammered, but he was finally feeling a little buzz.

Seconds later, he felt his left side get slightly jostled as someone sat next to him, and then he heard a groan. "Oh great."

Colby heard the voice and didn't need to look over to know it was Rebecca. "What? Now you're infiltrating all my joints, too?"

He side-eyed her as he took another sip. "You seem to be forgetting that we used to come here together."

Rebecca waved over to the bartender. "Ah yes, the dark days."

"Dark days." Colby couldn't help but laugh to himself as he repeated her words with a shake of his head.

He listened to her place an order and didn't even have the mental strength to try and protest her bad decisions. Plus, he knew he really wasn't in the position to be talking. She most certainly would've called him out for being a hypocrite.

He watched her receive an entire bottle of wine and an empty glass, and Colby couldn't help himself. "Wine?"

Rebecca filled it up and raised it in his direction. "Yes, because I am clearly a very classy lady."

"Classy..." Colby's eyes widened slightly as he nodded, taking a long sip of a new beer.

"What?" She took a sip, straightening herself out and extending a pinky from her glass as she took a sip. "You don't think so?"

"I dunno..." Colby watched her, "I just don't think that's a word I'd use in the same sentence as you."

Rebecca actually laughed and almost choked on her drink. "Oh fuck off, I totally can be."

"Sure." Colby grinned slightly. "Hey, you're the one who made the joke first."

"Doesn't mean you can." She stuck her tongue out, and it was clear she'd had quite a few drinks before stumbling across this particular bar.

"Whatever you say, sunshine." He shook his head with a chuckle.

"You know..." She looked over at him cautiously. "This bottle can't drink itself."

"Oh, that won't be a problem." Colby admitted easily, the alcohol controlling his brain more than himself. "I'm more than sure you've got it covered."

Rebecca looked up at the ceiling with a smile. "Okay, asshole. Last time I'm nice to you."

"So that's what that was?" Colby laughed and turned his swivel chair over in her direction fully.

"I thought you were supposed to be a good example." Rebecca followed suit and turned, her eyes bouncing between him and his beer. "You know, sober."

"It's not drinking that I'm staying away from." He shook his head, tearing his eyes away from hers as he stared at the wood in front of him. "It's never been my weak spot."

Rebecca slid the bottle on the bar between them with a raised eyebrow. "Take the temporary olive branch or leave it."

Colby laughed as he shook his head. "You're so lucky I'm already drunk."

"No." Rebecca leaned over the top of the bar, her legs coming off the ground while doing so, and swiped a wine glass from the bartender's counter. "You're lucky I'm already drunk."

He watched her place two glasses down. "You're always drunk."

"Not always. Only when I want to have fun." Her grin was playful. "You should try it again sometime."

"I might just take you up on that." Colby replied nonchalantly as she poured him a glass, shrugging when she seemed slightly shocked. "You know what they say... if you can't beat 'em."

Rebecca's grin flourished into a devilish smile. "Join them."