Such A Beautiful Disaster

Part 3

I got off the bus and paused for a minute to take in everything going on around me. The square was already pretty packed. I headed over to where RC and I usually met up, along with the other wayward souls that hung out with us. Some local band was up on the stage but I barely payed any attention to them. I never came for the music. Yeah, maybe once or twice a band I was into came through and I would stop to watch them perform but the real reason I came was to party.

I spotted RC standing among a small group of people. He waved as he saw me approach. I gave him a big goofy wave back. "Hey you," he said when I was right next to him "How was work?" "Eh, it was work. Nothing really new or exciting there." I replied. I hadn't told him about the Jack incident yet and though I wanted to I neither felt like answering a bunch of questions about the whole event right now or having to feel guilty about omitting that my using mixed with the drinking led me to going that far with Jack. Don't get me wrong, RC and I are ridiculously tight and I tell him everything, even the girly shit that most guys don't want to hear. I knew though that if I told him I'd started using again and how much he would get concerned and may even try to convince me into treatment, again. I had already been skipping some of my outpatient appointments. It was a whole bunch of drama I would rather avoid for now.

Even though I wasn't paying attention to the music my body started swaying along to it. The pills did that to me. My entire body was in sync with what was going on around me. I felt weightless and carefree. I felt happy and completely untied to anything. Like how even though I felt bad about not telling RC about Jack or anything that went with it, because I was high the bad feeling just kind of drifted away once I initially felt it stirring within me.

Out of the corner of my eye I noticed this guy standing a few yards away. He was totally my type: a nice muscular build, tattoos, a few piercings, dark shaggy hair, and a band t-shirt on. I turned to get a better look real quick. "Uh-oh" RC said, following my gaze. "What?" I asked him, playing innocent. "You know what," he told me. I did. As skanky as this might sound, I usually brought a different guy home every Thursday night. I wasn't always like this. I used to be shy and self conscious. I think the drug brought out that sense of being invincible. And somewhere along the way I think I've lost what little confidence I did have. Now it seemed like the only way I could feel validated was by having a guy's attention, and knowing that he wanted me. "Do you want to go over there?" RC asked me. "Eh," I shrugged "I'll keep my eye on him and save it for later. I want to hang out with you for a while before I go wandering off." RC just gave me this huge, heartfelt smile in response to me wanting to stay with him. I felt that horrible, guilty feeling in my gut again and before the drug dissipated it, I wondered if I was really going to be okay this time around.

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Author's note: Hey there to anybody reading this. I'm new to this whole thing so if you could possibly give some feedback on what you think so far or my writing style that would be awesome. :)