Feed the Nose

complexes

John's eyes wandered around the room at the wee early hours of the day. Chairs were knocked over, plastic cups and clothes littered the floor, and the blinds of the window across the room were hanging by a thread. Snoring and coughing of sorts were the soundtrack of the room. People were scattered here and there, some sleeping and some still on a bad trip.

John sat up, rubbing his pounding temples and letting out a loud sigh. He searched for his phone, it wasn't in his pocket. His fingers slid across the glass coffee table in front of him, between this couch and the other.

Crushed substances dusted up into the air after being swept around by his hands, knocking whoevers credit cards off the table as well. Finally he felt the familiar case, pulling it up to his stubly face he checked the time. It read plain and simple; 5:44 am.

Rolling his eyes, he stood up slow and steady. He stared down at his dishelved appearance, white stained tee with faded lettering riding up a bit over his stomach and black skinny jeans with powder marks on them. He fixed himself as best as he could, retying his shoelace before taking a final stretch.

Slipping his phone into his pocket he tip toed around whatever could've made noise, wether that be people or purses. He slowly turned the knob of the old beaten door of the apartment and closed it silently behind himself.

Sighing in relief, he rubbed his eyes a bit to scrape the sandman out. Making his way down the long hallway of the complex he could hear the sound of cars and early morning rain get louder and louder.

Down a few flights of stairs and he found the parking garage floor he (believed he) was parked on. He pulled his keys, stumbling around the parking area before finding his tiny silver honda.

Unlocking the door he cracked his neck, freeing him from the pesky pains he had been having. Once in the car he pulled the visor down and nearly yelped at his reflection in the petit mirror.

Bags hung low under his pink eyes, with a stubble on his chin and dismantled hair. Not really wanting to look like he just snorted cocaine, he skimmed around for a beanie and sunglasses. To his surprise they both sat happily in the glove compartment.

The beanie sat firmly around his head, holding all his greasy locks of hair in it, while his sunglasses hid his addict eyes.

"Smooth." He told himself after looking back at his reflection once more.

The key fed the car it's ignition, slamming his door shut and buckling up he pulled out of his spot. Speeding wasn't really the safest idea but john wanted to get out of there as fast as possible. Down the countless floors he drove, out until the exit with the toll booth stand tall.

John groaned, remembering he actually had to pay money for parking, which in his mind was dumb. Pulling a wad of dollar bills out of his wallet, he pulled over out of traffic flow to count his money.

'2..4..6..8..10..12..14..16..' He murmured to himself.

In the midst of his counting he heard a knock on the passenger side window, scaring him to death almost. He jolted up and looked over to see who he thought was a stranger.

"Um....hi?..ugh.." He said to the girl who stood outside of his car.

"Hey ugh..we talked a bit last night...at the party..um you might not remember but, yeah...um...can I have a ride?" She asked, folding her arms across her chest.

John wasn't really sure what was going on and he was trying to register her face, did he talk to her last night? Was he really that high that he doesn't remember?

"Ugh yeah! Get in." John said out of impulse, then slapped himself mentally because he STILL could not remember her.

She smiled big and opened the car door, slipping inside and closing it in record time.