Where Snapdragons Lie

To close for comfort

I turned the shower temperature to what so cold its enough induce hypothermia. But it was fucking hot outside, and I need to get this crap off of my neck. Yes, I picked up those antibiotics but I just threw them into my room without much of a thought. I don't actually need them. And like hell if I'm going to use them at all. How do you get rid of medical waste anyway? Ugh, another question for another day. 

I remembered a towel this time, and some sweats. Not that I care very much. Rhys and Liz are gone...again. This time looking at a few nearby venues. Rhy's wants somthing avant guarde but Liz wants traditional. Those two are quite a pair. Speaking of pairs...I wonder? What is Peirce up to. I know its really only been a few hours since I last saw him, but I wonder if he wants to go get a drink or two with me. I could use one. This whole Swosh thing is almost said and done. Celebration may be a bit premature, but I don't give a fuck. 

After I dry off I give him a call. The phone rings a few times and then goes to his voicemail.

"This is Pierce Miller, leave you name and number after the tone," What follows is the lowest tuba note I've ever heard. Followed by the actual tone. 

"Hey Pierce, its Madga. My work shit is done, and it actually went over pretty well. I'm going to crack open a bottle of red wine here...alone. So, feel free to come back again if you want. Bye."

I hang up and sigh. Do I seem desperate? Am I desperate? Well...I'd rather not drink alone. Liz is still out. But he was here already and we just spend the night together. Maybe he wants space. I can understand that. That's no problem...to me. Wanting space is totally normal. I don't want to inconvenience him at all. He's probably practicing or something. 

Why the fuck and I going on about this????  

Ugh, new relationship jitters. I need to crack that bottle open now. I go to the kitchenette and pull out a bottle of Apothic Red. I shove the opener into the cork with gusto. I push, pull, and twist until it pops. Satisfying. I grab a wine glass and pour the blood red liquid into it. Maybe I should pull out some cheese to go with it. But I drank then entire cup before I could do that. Damn that's a new record for me. I guess I'm more worked up than I thought I was. I poured another one. Savor it this time Madga. I sip it as I go the the fridge. There is some aged cheddar, and slices of craft cheese in the dairy drawer. I should pick the actual cubed cheese. But that's some expensive shit. I unwrap a few slices of the radioactive orange craft cheese. I roll them up in an attempt to make them look fancy. It kind of works. It taste terrible with the wine. But frankly...I don't care. Cheese is cheese not matter how orange it is. 

I was the about to turn on the TV and stream a movie when there was a loud band at my door. Me chest leaped. Is it Pierce? Did he get my message? I hope to hell he did. I dont bother to check my phone and go for the door. When I open it Shamar is standing in the door. What a nice surprise.

"Hey dude. You want some wine?" I ask him. 

Shamar, doesn't respond, his face is riddled with tears. His eyes super puffy.

"Shamar, what is it? What happened?" I ask concerned. I put my hands on his shoulders and wrap him in for a hug. Maybe this case is getting to him too. I never really thought of how this is affecting him. 

But I feel a distinct poke in my neck. A needle? Everything is...fuzzy. Its blurry...

I feel....weird. Not from the wine....what the??  I can't move. Cant feel my arms. Whats.....The floor is dragging under my heels. My head cant sit up right. Whats happening? Shamar....what the fuck did you do? Drugs? 

Now its the cold outdoor air. I feel something round and cold on my back then nothing. Upside down. I feel air... falling. I feel falling. I land on something. Another person...cant tell. I try to lift my arm. Do I even have one? Dragging again. Scratchy dry grass, dirt and rocks. It smells like piss and shit.