Whiplash | jjk.

[30]: The Come-Down

The next few days flew by.

At least for you, who had spent the majority of the week in slumber.

The others, however, had been nothing short of overloaded. They had been swamped with a workload big enough to drive a man insane. And they'd been working tirelessly to get through it.

Filing through new names, and faces. Putting the pieces together and recalling the different people they'd seen at the party. They were working up a hierarchy, and building a thicker case. It was going well.

The aftermath of the party had been extremely beneficial to the case that you and the others had been working on, aside from your state as of recent.

You had the short end of the stick.

But, thanks to your somewhat reserved explanations and ideas, you were able to conjure up a viable report on the effects of this Nexus drug for the others to use in the case. A few days ago, you had pulled it all together.

Everybody was a little more familiar with this mystery enemy.

That was a good thing.

But as it turned out, the Nexus set up its users for one hell of a comedown.

You had been bedridden for days. Your muscles were achey and almost useless. Your brain foggy and fleeting, somehow only coherent enough to keep you alive as you slept.

The time you'd spent awake was not much. You'd only occasionally use the bathroom, or drink some water, or eat some food that somebody had brought to you. You couldn't remember who.

You rub your eyes.

You stare at the posters on your wall as your vision slowly clears and concentrates, slowly waking yourself up. You let out a deep breath that you'd been holding onto for days.

So much to do, so little time.

But as you think about it all, you could feel in your bones like molten lava, turning your insides to ash. You were getting closer. You could practically smell your father's aftershave from here.

Trying to flick through the very foggy memories from that night, you start to understand the potential throw that this new drug might have on the market. If fully released and dealt to the public, this would send a shockwave over the nation. This drug was strong.

And not only that, but it was good.

Other than the fact that you had overdosed and barely escaped the night with your life, the drug was an unexplainably fun time.

You remembered how good the lights felt on your face, and how different smells made you want to dance different ways. You remembered how everything tasted good, even champagne.

This drug was good. And that in itself, was bad.

But it did mean one thing: if you kept your attention honed on this drug as it moved upscale, and found a way to be in the right place at the right time, you know you'd run into your father at some point.

You didn't know much of his work life, other than that it stole him from you.

But this felt like the right direction.

Ugh, enough about that.

You roll over in bed, stretching your legs out under the covers. You didn't feel good but you didn't understand why.

It felt like there was a thick cloud hovering over your head, desperate to drown your optimism and keep your days dark. You felt heavy and greyscale, like a rainy day with no rain.