let's stay together even tomorrow

Chapter 5

Fuck. Fuck. Fuckity fuck fuck. He's messed up. Royally screwed up. Finn curses at himself more. He wipes his face and bites his hand. He's done it. He actually did it. He hates himself. It was too tempting. He got yelled at work by customers at his first job, which is fine he can handle that. But at job number 2, his boss yelled at him in front of the staff. Finn couldn't take it. He just can't. Why should he? 2 ½ years down the drain. It was too easy.

Finn finds comfort in the quick high he gets. No more worries. No more people constantly telling him what he can't and can do. His veins were ripe and ready as if they always knew Finn would revert back. He hates himself. He hates himself as he inserts the needle and pushes it down. He hates himself as he keeps pumping his body with it.

It wasn't always like this. At one point, he cared deeply about his body. He wanted to be a ballerina. He still does. But he's messed up now. Old and damaged goods. No one wants to see that. The body he once treated as a temple is now once again being pumped with all sorts of drugs that make the world feel like a Picasso cubism painting.

The weeks go like this: He works. He works. Take drugs. Go to work again. Repeat and repeat. He rarely sees the others. Sometimes he catches a glimpse of Casey gliding through the living room, looking for his hidden food. High as a kite, Finn thinks Casey is a rat, scouring in a corner, munching on food, and that he's the block of cheese. Sometimes he'll see Micah make his way around the apartment, Finn thinks he's the embodiment of the past. It scares him. Sometimes he finds Elijah just there, always present. Always watching. Finn thinks he's the Grim Reaper who just happens to have alcohol in his hand, ready to take him to the depths of hell where he is meant to be. Sleeping in the living room has its perks but not this time, not when everyone is always passing by.

Finn finally sleeps. He sleeps on his days off. The others do not check up on him. They do not do anything. They let him be. And the days go by again just like this. The apartment where no one speaks is full of words that are spoken through actions. If there are spoken words, their voice is usually hoarse and weak. Finn can't seem to get off the couch. He thinks he's infused. Is he stuck? Finn misses him. Jesse would know what to do. He would get him unstuck. Because he can't do it himself. More so, he won't.

Work work work. Finn messes up again at job #1 and he gets caught dancing at job #2. He does not recommend going to work on drugs. But money money money. He laughs. Money is such a funny concept. Why does it exist, if all it does is separate people and have no real meaning? What does meaning mean? He's stuck on the couch again. He turns to stare at the door and sees all three of them sitting on the floor staring at him. Their heads tilted to meet his eyes. He stares back. They have a conversation through their eyes. Micah kisses his head, Elijah puts a glass of water near him and Casey covers him with a blanket. For some reason, Casey looks weaker than he does. Finn doesn't like it.

Days pass in blurs. Has he been going to work? What is time? Where is he going half the time? Where is the tiny box with drugs? He can't find it and gives up. Something doesn't feel right. He's off work right now and he can even call in sick for his next shift. Something tugs in his stomach. Has he eaten? What time is it? Where is he? Oh, he's on the couch. He can't move. Why can't he move? Are the others home? His brain feels heavy. His heart beats too slowly. He's cold. He's tired. His eyes close and he drifts off.

Eyes open and white brightness smothers him. It's disorienting. He's in the hospital. His cousin is asleep, holding his hand. It's strange but Casey is also wearing a hospital gown. Why? How long has he been out? Has it been months? Finn licks his lips and feels they're dry as Micah nudges Casey awake when they notice his consciousness. Elijah hands him water, he takes a sip. Finn gestures to Casey, asking why is there an IV drip in his arm. Casey does not speak. Micah laughs, it sounds awkward but they can tell it's genuine and needed. "We need to stop coming here. I've got this place memorized already." They laugh dryly. He goes on, "Casey passed out." Elijah looks distraught and he reeks of booze.