Chapter 2: The Beginning of the End
Eddie Whitter was in a rush. He had a very important client meeting with a certain possible number one draft prospect for the NHL. The boys parents wanted the best possible agent for their young Gretzky prospect, and Eddie was just that agent. Well, he was six months ago when they first met with him. Now, he was a shell of his former self. Falling apart at the seams. Clothes out of order, hair all messed up, color drained from his face, and his eyes. Like he hadn't slept in a month.
He emerged from his man cave and made his way up the stairs and into the bathroom. The house seemed quiet, empty even. He shrugged it off and went into the bathroom and started the shower. Sitting on the toilet, he reached into his pants pocket and fumbled around for a second or two before pulling his hand back out, clutching his bottle of pills. There was 10 left in the bottle, pretty little green 80 mg Oxycontin's. He placed one on the counter and went back out to the kitchen and into the drawer for some Alcon tinfoil. Tearing off a corner, in the shape of a square, he whistled a tune as he strutted off back into the bathroom, a new man reborn into a world of greatness.
Eddie sat back down on the toilet, and placed the pill on the foil. He pulled his lighter and trusty, crusty pentube from his pocket, placed the tube between his lips, and lit the lgither, breathing in that first sickly sweet taste of burnt pill. He inhaled til he couldn't anymore, making a spiral design on the foil. Holding in the smoke for what seemed like an eternity, he exhaled slowly, and felt his body begin to go limp. His mind began to numb, and his muscles let go, the tension that was in them seemed to flow from his lungs, out his mouth, and into the air of the steam filling bathroom.
He took another quick toke off the foil, and put it down on the counter. reaching into the shower, feeling the water, and adjusting the know to the appropriate temperature that suited his no longer aching body, and he began disrobing to get in.
He reached around behind him, with his sweats down to his ankles and took another hit off the foil, feeling the smoke rush into his lungs, and as he exhaled, his body almost let go, he stumbled a little bit and giggled to himself, 'Almost lost it there, Edward."
Seeing about 3/4 of the pill left on his tinfoil, he'd decided to leave the rest for when he got out of the shower. So he pulled the curtain back and stepped in. Immeadiately feeling the heat of the water as it pounded off his flesh. The aches and pains of waking up, slowly disipating into nothing.
It was going to be a good day, he knew it he thought to himself. Make sure this kid goes nimber one in the draft in a month. His rankings were high enough, he had the drive and determination, after all not just anyone scores 60 goals in the juniors anymore. Eddie knew he could get this kid everything he'd wanted. Number 1 in the draft. A good starting salary on a great entry level contract. This kid was going to be great. And yet, he found himself wondering if he had enough pills to get through the day. 9 80's was alot, to someone who had never done them. But he probably should stop by Marcus's place and get a dozen more. Just in case. High stress situations meant for more trips to teh employee washroom. And he was going to be on the phone all day with two important teams that could mean everything to the boys future.
As he dumped shampoo over his head and began working it into his scalp, he didn't notice the bathroom dorr slowly open, or hear the footsteps on the tile floor. His wife had came home, and she thought she'd suprise him with a little shower loving. She began taking her clothes off, and got dow nto her under garments when she'd noticed the tinfoil, lighter and pen tube on the vanity.
Emma's eye's narrowed. Her face started to redden up with the anger that was building inside her... She had known he was up to something. But she had hoped it would've bee nsomething easy. An affair even, but not an addiction. He'd gone so long without doing anything wrong. Not since they met in High school, when he was a pot smoking football player, had she felt this amount of anger in her.
