Sugar and Alcohol *Solby

Chapter 1

COLBY

                  The glass in my hand grew light, empty. Warmth filled my stomach and I could feel the heat on my cheeks, my lips cracked into an easy smile for the first time since the day had started. The burning of the alcohol was like fire, it lit up my brain and made me feel my heart rate increase. In that moment I knew I was alive, my chest heaving with breath and my veins flowing with alcohol. The fog covered unwanted memories and useless thoughts, as I stumbled around my bedroom looking for another bottle of whatever- it didn't matter what I drank as long as it burned on its way down. Faintly, I could hear Sam downstairs, pots and pans rattling about for what I assumed was him cooking dinner, but it didn't matter. Nothing really mattered except for- Aha! The smooth bottle of whiskey hit my hand as I pulled it from underneath my bed. The unopened top called my name, the liquid practically begging to run down my throat, my stomach and heart lurching with greediness. The top opened with a fine crack, the glass I once had forgotten, tossed aside, instead my lips favored the top of the bottle, the whole thing feeling just right. Years of stress and anxiety seemed to melt off of me, eyes closed and warmth filling my body I listened to my lover downstairs sing some long-forgotten pop song.

"Colby, dinner!" The soft melodic voice of Sam drifted into his room, breaking through the fogginess of my head. Lazily I sipped the last of my whiskey and stumbled out of the room and down the steps. My normal light steps were heavy as if filled with lead but I didn't mind, it only met that my drinks were working. Setting down steaming plates filled with pasta, Sam looked up and immediately a small frown was placed on his lips. My heart lurched at the sight, but I ignored it as I lumbered my way to my assigned seat,

"You're drunk." Sam's voice was so quiet I had to strain my self to hear him, but once I did the words hit me like a train,

"Yeah. I guess I am." I giggled as the blonde only sighed in distaste. Sam had always hated my drinking, claiming it to be a problem, the boy was always worried like that. Sure, my liver may not be top notch anymore but I was fine, I felt alive even. Sam was a worrier, goody-toe shoes who cared for me and I loved him. His blue eyes were like bright pools I could dive into, and when they were filled with concern for me? It drove me wild, and his lips? They were soft, and he tasted like cotton candy, sugar. Sam has loved me for so long and his kindness seemed to melt off of him filling me with a warmth that almost rivaled my drinks. His softness and candy-coated lips seemed to pair well with my obnoxiousness and my flaming choice of drinks. Sam sat in the chair opposite of me, his eyebrows furrowed down as he played absentmindedly with his food. I followed suit, twirling the pasta around my fork clumsily, much rather being upstairs and downing another bottle.

"Do you love me, like really love me, Colby?" The soft voice caused me to slightly jump, the heaviness of the question seemed to cover the room as I sat and stared at the blonde boy. His cheeks were flushed and his eyes held a slight pain in them that I wished I could just kiss away. His lips formed into a tight smile, as he shifted uncomfortably under my gaze,

"What in the world made you ask that Sam?" I tried to keep my voice even, my confusion seeping into the words I spoke mixed with a slight slur. The room seemed to get smaller as Sam only shrugged his shoulders, his lips opening and closing as if he was at a loss,

"I love you, Colby, so much. I just, if you really loved me, you would quit. No more alcoholic drinks Colbs. No more coming home blackout drunk, or having to call me from a cell. It isn't you Colby, that poison has changed you." Sam sputtered, his eyes were glossy now but I had no comforting words to tell him. What did he mean it wasn't me? Alcohol did nothing to me, it only enhanced my will to live. The pounding of my heart and the heat from the burning liquid was proof of that. The drinks didn't force me to crave danger, I have always craved danger, they only helped me come to terms with my wants. I'm not alive if I'm not facing death in the face and laughing. I was the alcohol and the alcohol was me. Sam didn't understand, I don't think he ever would. Forks scraped the bottom of the plates loudly, both Sam and I staring at one another with the pasta untouched,

"Just say you love me Colby, more than the drinks. You can drink them, I don't care but just tell me you love me more than them. Please." Sam's face seemed to be filled with unheard pleading, Colby could almost hear Sam's sporadic beats of his heart. I swallowed the real answer, wanting to see those addicting lips turn into a soft smile, the real Sam I have learned to love, I wanted him back,

"Of course, Sam, I love you. I love you more than those drinks." I looked him in the eye as the words dripped from my lips, as Sam smiled softly. I do love Sam, I really do, but those drinks are what get me through life. Sweet, quiet, Sam was my savior, my lover. He was safe and predictable, the one constant I have in my life. Sam was as sure as a sunrise, always there. I was the opposite, and so are the drinks. They keep me on my toes as I live my life day by day. It scorches my throat and has taught me to relax. I love them both but one just makes me feel alive more than the other.

Sam would never understand, but what he doesn't know won't hurt him.