Hellraiser

VII

As soon as I got his address I rushed to his place, his new apartment was literally infront of the bar. I knocked the door five times and nothing happened.

'Maybe he went out' I thought.

When I was about to leave the place finally someone opened the door.

"Dave" I said with a smile on my face.

"What- What are you doing here?" He looked stoned as usual, the bags under his eyes were extremely huge and he looked incredibly pale; like a freaking ghost.

"You look terrible" I said as I tried to pull him in a hug but he tried to push me away. "Okay, I see." I blushed, I wasn't expecting that reaction.

Then all of sudden a chick appeared right behind him, she was wearing nothing but her underwear and one of Dave's shirts. I think it was quite obvious, you could tell what was going on.

In the moment I saw that brunette standing behind him I felt like if someone grabbed a knife and just stabbed my stomach with it multiple times; in other words... Terrible.

Why do I care so much about him anyway?

"So you came here because?" He asked me kind of cold.

"I came here to buy some pot." I lied. "You still sell pot, don't you?" Indeed, part of me wanted to cry but I had to stay calm and acted like if it meant nothing. I would say that I hide it perfectly.

"Yeah. Wait a second." He went to his room to get it and left me in the living room with the tall brunette girl with German accent.

"I guess you are Lindsay." She said trying to break the silence, honestly I wanted to slam her against a freaking wall, but I didn't. I just nodded and remained in silence.

"Here" He dropped the bag on the table. "You know the drill, twenty dollars."

"I only have ten dollars, so I guess I'll just go." I stood up with the intention of leaving his apartment, I wanted to go to a bar and drink my weight on Jack Daniels.

"All right." He said while trying to light up a cigarette, he didn't even stop me or asked if I was okay. He just didn't give a shit.

However, instead of going to a bar I decided to go home, lock myself in my room and blast my music. It was pretty much like therapy to me.

So there I was.
Blasting Hey You by Pink Floyd while staring at the ceiling like a freaking retarded.

"Are you okay?" Someone asked concerned while knocking the door. "You know if you want to talk you-" I recognized his voice immediately, it was the new guy. Kirk.

I sighed.
First I wanted to ignore his comment but indeed I needed someone to talk to so I was like 'you know what? let's talk to this loser and see what happens.'

I opened the door and the tears started streaming down my face I couldn't even control it.

"It's okay." He pulled me in a hug immediately and I didn't complain. He just held me, that was all I needed.