Melody

5

Vincent found himself in the recreational hall of a chapel down the street, sitting in a half circle of metal plated chairs. It had been almost a week since he'd last seen Melody, it was probably the last time he'd ever see her. He stopped taking the pills after that night. If not for that decision, Vincent thought it very unlikely that he would find himself sitting in on an AA meeting now, listening to some Christian pastor talk about vague concepts like faith and forgiveness. All in all, the meeting only lasted about forty minutes, with a little over half a dozen self-loathing peers around the room. They asked him to introduce himself, but he kept it brief, not feeling the need to stress the details of why he'd chosen to attend. Vincent had thought that that sort of thing mostly went without saying.
As the proceedings began wrapping up, and people started stacking their chairs to one side of the room, Vincent found himself lingering in the corner, in some kind of a fog. The pastor approached him to shake his hand and thank him for his attendance.
-We don't get much of a crowd around here anymore, any new face is a welcome one, the man said to him. He didn't appear to be much older than Vincent himself, but his skin was clear and his hair was full and stark white.
-I used to attend Sunday services here with my mom when I was a kid, Vincent admitted. "I haven't been back since she passed away." The pastor gave him a consoling look.
-I'm sorry to hear that, he said, with genuine sympathy in his tone. Vincent shrugged.
-I haven't thought about it in years, in a lot of ways I was still just a kid at the time. The pastor nodded, as if he already understood.
-You're welcome here anytime, for this, or otherwise. But I'd be glad to see you again next week. Vincent nodded agreeably. The pastor turned as if to walk away when Vincent stopped him.
-I wanted to ask... if you don't mind... he began. The pastor nodded patiently and Vincent went on. "I met a girl not long ago. She wasn't an alcoholic, but she had her own affinities... I won't go into detail about it. I only wondered... she's not exactly suicidal, but she tempts death... so do I I guess. But It seems counterintuitive. The pastor smiled, letting out a heavy sigh.
-It's a fair question, he admitted. "You know, I once knew a millionaire who made his fortune selling real estate before he gambled it all away. He lost everything, his wife left him, his kids wouldn't speak to him. He came to me pleading for forgiveness and reciprocity. The next week I saw him at a coffee shop with a giant grin on his face. When I asked what had brought him such happiness, he told me that he'd won ten grand at the black jack table that morning." Vincent furrowed his brow.
-Ten grand is nothing compared to millions. The pastor shrugged.
-His wealth was of no consequence if it meant he could no longer play. If there's nothing to lose the game is no fun. Vincent nodded, but he remained unsatisfied.
-What's the point of playing if it means losing more than you gain? The pastor smiled, patting him on the shoulder.
-The heart has its reasons, which reason knows nothing of, he said. Vincent smirked.
-Is that some kind of bible verse? The pastor shook his head.
-Pascal said that. Vincent hadn't heard of him, but he nodded all the same.
Vincent left the chapel soon after that and made his way back home again. He stared at the bottle of pills still sitting on his nightstand, some two dozen chalky circles lingering at its base. He thought it was for the best that he never took them again. Vincent grabbed the bottle, dumping it into his kitchen sink, and flushed them down the drain.