Trace of Innocence (No Control Book 3)

Chapter 72 - part iii

(No Control - 72. Last First Kiss, third part)

I pull a face at the burn inside my nostrils. I'm not an avid user of any type of drug, really, so I'm not used to it. I wait for a moment until the discomfort subsides, and then snort the dregs before rubbing my nose with my fingers and stepping out of the cubicle to wash my hands.

"You good?" Jason asks.

"Yeah, fine," I reply.

We stumble out of the toilet together and head back over to our table.

"H!" Jeff booms. "Where ya been, man? I got you some..." He lowers his voice to a harsh whisper. "I got you some stuff."

"I'm sorted," I reply, feeling a grin spread across my face. "I'm sorted."

I can feel the effects starting to kick in. I have this feeling of euphoria, like I can do anything; be anything. I feel like I can conquer the world.

I sit down next to Jeff and we begin this intense conversation about the future. He says he has big plans for me, once I am out of my contract with Modest next year. He knows we won't be touring the next album, and seems to take this as the band splitting up. His dad wants to manage me, he says. He wants me on their books with CAA, their management company.

There's so much to talk about, and so little time. The others are keen to move to the next bar, so we stand up and head outside. I catch sight of Sara standing just to the left of the door, and I beam at her.

"Hey!" I exclaim. "What are you doing here? Fuck, wait - where's Nadine? Is she here? I don't want to make a scene."

She giggles. "Relax, Harry. Nadine's not here, she's gone. She left a while ago."

"OK, that's good, because you know I don't have anything against her, I just don't want another argument, I can't face another argument after the last one. It was harsh."

"You're wired," she remarks, gazing up at me through her eyelashes and giving me a sultry look, like the ones I've attempted in the past and failed.

"Yeah," I admit sheepishly.

"H, come on!" Jeff shouts, and I turn to see them waiting for me.

"I'd better go," I tell Sara. "It was good seeing you. You look great."

"Thanks," she smiles. "You too."

She steps towards me and I put my arms around her to give her a hug. I can feel her breasts soft against my chest and I feel a tingle somewhere I shouldn't. She kisses my cheek and my dick twitches again at the feel of her lips against my skin. I return the gesture, more out of obligation than anything else, and as she pulls away her hair is soft and slippy against my hand and she looks up at me with these massive doe eyes.

"Take care, Harry," she says softly.

"Yeah, and you," I mutter. I turn around and scurry back to the others.

"Fuck, man, she's fucking hot," someone says, but I'm not paying attention. I'm starting to feel weird.

I haven't taken Speed in a long time; over a year. Maybe two. I don't remember how it feels.

We arrive at the next bar and while Jeff downs a couple of shots with the others I stick to water. I'm buzzing but it's hazy; blurry. I feel euphoric but it's muted, like it's suppressed with a blanket or something. I feel like I have cotton wool in my ears; in my mouth.

I blink and realise I have been participating in a conversation for the last five minutes about football. I don't remember the conversation, but my mouth is running away with me, talking of its own accord. Does it usually do this? I'm not sure.