Final Ticket

one

Solomon Gauge's life was meager. He spent his days with a white cat named Moxie, who spent most of her days curled up on his bookshelf. Since he moved away from home on his eighteenth birthday, he was alone. This is how he preferred it most days though; human contact was a turn off.

His place in London was lonely, and recently he had started to regret his choices. He missed his mom telling him to have a good day as she went off to work, planting a kiss on his forehead as he was trudging to bed after a night of insomnia and playing World of Warcraft, or his dad making dinner and smelling the tea brew and the roast broiling in the oven. They were things he found he had taken advantage of and now he wished they would return.

He cleaned his desk off, clearing the bottles of Newcastle and discarding them in a trash can he kept next to his couch. Last night, he had felt miserable; more so than usual. So he spent all of his night drinking and talking to people on Skype. Some days it was all he seemed to be capable of doing, and last night was one of those moments.

Most of the night he talked to a girl named Maddie, who he had known for quite some time through World of Warcraft. He had drunken himself into such a stupor he didn't even know what he was saying after a while, and when she fell asleep he found himself upset. A human being, especially one that he wasn't even sure if they were real or not, upsetting him was unsettling.

He glanced to his computer, noticing he had messages on Skype from Madeline. She was such a wonderful girl, but the fear deep inside refused to let him believe she, or he, or they, even liked him; nonetheless cared.

When she had fallen asleep, he asked what he felt was the most ridiculous thing he ever could've, but it was weighing on his mind and finally the screwtop courage he had gotten from five bottles of beer pushed him to take the plunge. While dusting off his keyboard, his eyes shifted towards the screen.

[7:15:04] No. 78921: hey, if I ever wanted to send you a gift, would you be comfortable giving me your address?

His heart leapt when he reread his words. Stupid. Stupid. Why was he so stupid? Why would he ask that? Why would he ever..

But his eyes widened when he caught her reply.

[15:31:11] madeline: 17 Pembroke Court #13

Dearborn, Michigan 48126

A sly smile crossed his lips...so the girl trusted him. That thought made his heart flutter again, but this time in a more comfortable way. In a dream he had one night months ago, he had cooked up a plan to send the girl the money to come see him, and they met and things went wonderfully.

He wondered if he could pull it off for real.

Maybe he needed another case of beer before he tried.