To Those Who Don't Belong

27

"Ritchie, what's this?" George wiped his finger across the glass table. Shit. I was dizzy and forgot to clean up. George inspected the white dust on his finger all while holding up my empty Jack Daniels bottle.

"It's just... nothing," I was quiet.

"No. Richard. I know it's something. I know what it is. Don't think I don't see the curled dollar bill next to it. Why? You could end up like me." He was right.

"I don't know. I was angry one night and went to a club. I experimented and found that when I was fucked up, I felt good. I forgot about the bad things in life. And now, I'm like this," I walked over to George, "You should wash that off your fingers."

"I will. But, this is incredibly illegal. How are you going to get rid of what you have?"

"Well, it's only a baggie. I could sell it all to David and I'd have enough money to cure y-" that's right. George didn't want any treatments, "I'll just sell it back."

"No, I mean this," he pointed at me, "you're miserable and I can tell. You need to start therapy, and rehab. I don't care where you go," he clutched my hands, "as long as your healthy."

"Okay. We can't be worried about me, though. All our focus should be on you," I held his hands close to my heart.

"No. I only want my average amount of attention. We don't even know when I'll be saved. It could even be next year, or the year after that. Some cancers will just bother you like a cold, and then slowly stop in your body. That could be me," he began to smile, "why waste money, when I might get a chance on my own. Besides, I don't want to be hooked up to a bed. And, I'm no anti vaxer, that's not the point I'm trying to get through," I smiled.

"You'll be fine," I pecked his cheek and cleaned up. He washed his hands and sat down for a meditation session. "I'll be right back."
.................................................................
I stepped into the back room I had become so familiar with.

"David? You back here?"

"Um," I heard a sniffle, "yes." That was odd.

I carefully walked back to see Freddie and his boyfriend Jim holding each other as David sobbed.

"I've got it," Fred's voice has hoarse.

"Got what?"

"Aids."