Unspoken

Chapter Eight: Ryan

I watch the girl move as she walks, her top so low I see everything anyone would need. Her golden heels are higher than I would have ever expected someone could walk on, and her leather pants too tight for proper circulation.

There are no storms tonight, the sky is a calm black, and the music pounding in my ears is making me feel nauseous, almost to the point of getting up and running as fast as possible to whatever trash can I can find that's not littered with beer bottles.

Jake's apartment is small but spacious since he doesn't have any real furniture besides the crappy couch I am lying across, trying to get a grip on reality.

I don't remember how much I've drank, but I remember the taste of the whiskey on my tongue and how it went down like a glossy marble, never getting stuck, but widening every moment it passed through my throat.

I stare at a yellow stain on the green felt, watching it swirl as I drift off into oblivion. The alcohol is swirling in my head, making it hard to focus on, but then the girl wearing practically nothing at all smiles at me and I feel alright.

Someone's hand slaps my shoulder, making me lose my breath and grab his wrist, lifting his hand from me, death in my glare.

"Whoa, pal," Jake says as he slides onto the couch next to me. I let his hand go, my head falling against the back of the couch.

"Jesus,"

"Sorry, I forgot you were crazy," he says, chuckling under his drug-ridden breath. I feel second-hand high just by sitting next to him. I'm already drunk, so the combination makes my head spin faster, the marble rising in my throat.

I relax my mind, the marble falls back down, and my clenched fist falls open like a damaged flower. "How did you forget?"

"Who knows, I'm practically in outer space," He lets his head fall onto the back of the couch while his mouth hangs open. His black hair, grown out and slicked in grease, in his eyes. I start to imagine his body floating around all of the stars, his brain smeared with reality and fantasy alike. His lungs burning from all the smoke he just inhaled, his tongue bruised by working hard with another.

I smile at the image of him like this, happy my brain still works at all. The alcohol went straight to my head, especially because I don't eat much at all, my empty stomach coiling like a snake.

I let the tips of my fingertips brush against the felt of the couch as I stand up, the world spinning too fast for my eyes to handle.

Eventually I find the girl with the low-cut shirt and tight pants and lead her to Jake's room, knowing he won't mind.

I lose myself in more of the temporary highs, trying to forget everything that has happened in the history of time.

And I do, except I imagine the blonde hair entangled in my fingers is black and I'm looking at blue eyes, not brown ones. I inhale her skin, smelling vanilla and spice when in reality, she smells like alcohol and sweat.

My hangover lasts years in one day. The throbbing in my temples grows more intense with every passing moment.

I drive into Tina's parking lot to get the caffeine I desperately need, parking my car as close to the car I know is Aubrey's as I can get without hitting it so if she leaves before me, she'll have to ask me to move my car so she can get into her's. I laugh to myself quietly before shutting off the engine.

When I walk into the shop, I am greeted by the lovely scent of freshly ground coffee beans and scented candles, one on every table, as well as the view of no line and one singular empty seat left.