Dancing with Demons [Sebastian Stan]

Elevation

Buzz

I've barely locked the door and hung up my keys and coat before there's a knock on the door in my loungeroom, the one that leads to the apartment next door. Alex doesn't bother waiting for a response, as always she counts to three and opens the door.

"I was starting to worry, sweetie," she says.

"Sorry, we lost track of time," I reply, stifling a giggle as I open the laptop at the kitchen bench. "Can we talk in, say, ten minutes? I think I solved one of our integration problems on the way home and I need to get it out of my head before I lose it."

"Sure, you know where I am."

Four hours later she returns, tapping her foot on the kitchen tiles. "Buzz?"

"Hm?" I don't look up from the flurry of typing code.

"You were going to come and talk?"

"Sorry, I... you know."

"Yeah. Lost track of time, got distracted." She nods. "Are you okay? Taken your meds?"

"I told you... told you this morning I had. I just... just... just need to get this done."

"When was the last time you slept?"

"This morning. And we had a nap after... after lunch."

"When was the last time you slept longer than three hours?"

I shake my head and keep typing. The woman does not understand you can't just stop in the middle of programming, you have to continue until it's finished.

"Buzz? Look at me.... Buzz? Jubilee Edison, for fuck's sake listen to me!"

Shit, now I'm in trouble, she's using my full name. "What?" I snap.

"You have one hour to finish up. Save it, send it on to someone else, whatever you need to do. One. Hour. I'll bring you some dinner and then you're going to sleep."

"Alex, I'm... I'm f-fine."

"Listen to yourself, you're slurring and stuttering. Honey, you have to stop."

Finally I look over the screen at her. My brain is at war with itself, the left saying we must push forward while the inspiration and ideas are flowing, while the right knows that I simply can't function for much longer. "Okay." I nod. "You're right."

A minute after she's gone I groan in frustration, my train of innovative thought well and truly derailed by her interruption. I don't want to sleep, I want to finish what I started. Alex is and always has been my closest friend and family member, not just a cousin but the person who is dearest in this entire world to me. At two years my senior, I've looked up to her from the day I opened my eyes; she always had her shit together and was so much cooler than me, and I can never repay what she's done for me. When I left our tiny village of Jackson, Nebraska for the last time, when everyone I loved had turned their back and handed me over to white coated professionals who still used treatments from last century, when I truly felt I didn't belong in this world and it would be better without me – Alex welcomed me to her shoebox apartment in New York with open arms and no questions asked. Over the years, she's given me tough love when I needed it, forgiven all manner of indiscretions, and loved me unconditionally no matter what my mental state. I literally trust her with my life and she always, without fail, knows what's best for me. The problem is that I often question her and want to fight back if she pushes me. My heart knows she's right, but the dodgy wiring in my brain won't let me admit it.

When she next comes into my apartment she has a plate of food and 2 bottles of pills. I've saved what I was working on and closed it down, because the longer I tried to get back to it, the more angry I became at the intrusion, and I can still feel that rage simmering slowly away in the pit of my stomach, burning holes in the lining like lava. The aroma of bacon and garlic reminds me I haven't properly eaten a meal in days- I can't actually recall my last meal.