Tell Me The Same (Brandon Rogers)

7. Shower

.
.
I woke up two hours later, still intoxicated, still sick but not tired whatsoever. I sat up on the couch, how had I gotten here? I could barely remember anything after I got to the party last night. I turn my head, overwhelming dizziness hit me like a brick.
"Oh fuck!" I yelp, grabbing my head.
I hear stirring in the chair next to my eyes shoot over in a panic. It was.. Brandon? Why was he here?
It came back to me in bits and pieces after that. Me drinking from the funnel, Brandon stopping me in a panic. Vomiting.

I smell disgusting, like liquor and bile. I felt like vomiting again, I was going to vomit again. I jolt up and wobble my way to the bathroom, tripping down on to my knees before the toilet.
A croak leaves my mouth as I heave in to the toilet.
I hear shuffling back in the living room and quick steps to reach me.
"Bug?" His tired, quiet voice calls from behind me. His hand touches my back, rubbing it softly.
"It'll be okay.." He assures me, his hand so gentle on my back. I don't move but he stands, bringing me a glass of water.

I didn't sleep for the rest of the night, I needed to keep moving. My mind, even in it's inebriated state, kept racing. But after a few hours and more water, the alcohol was fading.
Brandon was sat back down in his chair, struggling to stay awake.
"You can go to sleep Brandon." I whisper to him, "I'm okay." And with that, his head drooped back in what must have been and incredibly uncomfortable position. I sat up and threw my cover over him, trying to provide some comfort. He must be exhausted.

I couldn't sleep, so instead I sat and drew. I didn't feel like painting anymore. I sketched out Brandon laying there, trying to be as realistic as possible. He didn't snore, which was nice. I don't think I could stand him if he did snore.
What if he wakes up and is hungry? I should fix him food, just in case. He'll probably be hungry. My thoughts ran through and in so, I dropped my drawing and instead begin cooking him up some oatmeal.

.(Pov change)

Brandon wakes to running water and scrubbing. He looks around and sees Bug standing in the kitchen, her brow furrowed as she roughly scrubs the small pot, a small bowl of oatmeal off to the side, long been cold.
She seemed hyper focused on the task at hand, Brandon stood back and stared at her, wondering how long she'd be at it. When it passed the two minute point he had enough and reached a hand out, grabbing her shirt sleeve.
"Bug?"He whispered, in a minor attempt to not spook her.
She went rigid, "What?" She snapped, glaring back at him.

Brandon was taken aback by her tone, "I think we need to talk about last night." He rested his hand on her arm and she gave him a confused look.
"Yeah, crazy right? I had a good time, crazy you were there!" Bug looked back at him, a big smile on her face. Did she not understand how bad it actually was? That's when Brandon got a good whiff of her, vomit and alcohol wafting through the air.
He gagged, covering his mouth, "Have you not showered yet?"
"No, do I need to? I guess I should, I just wanted to make you breakfast first. I made you oatmeal, I hope you like it." She spoke fast, barely pausing to start and end a sentence.

"I think you need to shower." Brandon tugged on her arm, trying to lead her away from the sink.
"Will you eat the oatmeal? It's not my best but also not the worst." She laughed, following his lead to the bathroom.
"Of course I'll eat the oatmeal." He assured her as He reached in and turned the knob, water shooting out the shower faucet.
"You got it from here?" He asked her.
"Of course, I know how to shower dumbo." She pushed him a bit then began undressing right before him.
"Wait! Wait till I leave." Brandon quickly rushed out of the bathroom, closing the door behind him. Hoping she wouldn't lock it.

As she showered he searched her whole apartment, looking high and low for any drugs she could be on. He was at a loss when he found nothing. He didn't know what to do, he couldn't seem to get anything out of her through talking. She seemed to have a one track mind and wasn't coming out of it any time soon.
He stood and listened, he could hear her singing in the shower. He figured he had a few more minutes so he rushed next door, knocking a bit fast.

Mrs. Pataki came to the door, "How is she?" She asked.
Brandon frowned a bit, "She's acting so... weird? Is this normal?"
Pataki looked up at him, a saddened look on her face as she hesitated to answer, "It's like... she goes through phases." The older lady looked down at her hands, very thin and bony. "She'll go weeks being her normal, sarcastic, loving but brash self..."
She paused and Brandon stared down at her,  "And then what?"

"And then she gets high, she's running around. She's talking so fast, She's offering to take me out. She's binge drinking, she's partying. Spending money she doesn't have. Bringing men home who I never see again.." Her eyes became red as she fought tears.
Brandon assumed this was the end and he began to thank her but was cut off by her opening her mouth once more.
"But then.. But then she's so sad... So depressed. It lasts so long... She barely leaves the bed. She doesn't eat, She drinks... She drinks a lot." A sob erupts from her, "I worry so much for her Brandon.. I almost worry she'll hurt herself."

Brandon stared at her, dumbfounded, he didn't know what to say as he looked in to her crystal blue eyes, now tainted with tears.
"Thank you for telling me this Mrs. Pataki. She'll be okay, It'll be okay." He tried to assure her. "I need to go back now, She's showering." He began to walk back, his head somewhat spinning. He needed to get her to a doctor, this seemed like a deeper more psychological problem.
Was she Bipolar?

.
.

If you'd like it'd be great to leave a vote! It helps me a lot! Thank you :)