Breaking Ice

1.

I rolled over and was greeted with the world's hairiest leg giving me a sweet morning kiss. My vision, still hazy, slowly captured my surroundings. A red bra hanging from the ceiling fan. Five naked guys asleep on top of the baby grand piano. A dog licking the hand of an unconscious Amber, my next door neighbor. With a grunt, I removed my entangled body from Mr. IDon'tOwnAShaver and picked up a random pack of cigarettes and went outside. Putting one in my mouth and clutching the box tightly in my left hand, I tried to recall the events of last night, and then frowned when I realized I could not even recall the events of the last two years.

I rolled the tip of the cigarette between my teeth and pushed memories that threatened to escape their prisons back into solitary confinement. The wind felt cool against my skin, almost too cool. Like it was penetrating every fiber of my skin and seeping into my bones to give a chill usually only a bottle of brandy could save me from. I thought about her for a fleeting moment, then, shoved the idea from my mind. If I could not remember the last two years, then I damn won't remember her as well. I glanced behind me into that nasty room and saw more evidence of last night's "adventures". John, Joe, Jacob, Jonathan and Joseph-known to most as the infamous 5 J's-still laid asleep on the piano. I stared at them a little longer until the thought smashed into me, how the hell did I know these guys?

Frantically, my eyes darted around the room to find Amber. Rushing, I walked to her and the dog. Wondering what she was doing with me last night, I knelt down to turn her onto her stomach, just in case she might have to throw up. But the moment, I made contact with her, I came to the stunning realization that I don't have neighbors, because I'm actually homeless. Images of me couch hopping for the past six months rushed to my mind.

The cigarette dropped from my mouth and I quickly got to my feet. I looked around the room again and suddenly everything was in Technicolor. Random heels were strewn across the floor with accompanying wigs and purses. In one corner, make up seemingly exploded on the wall leaving bright hues of pink, purple and blue on the vibrant orange paint. The smell of Channel No. 5 was so strong is could choke a new born baby, and most importantly, a makeshift shrine, dedicated to RuPaul, sparkled and shined in the sunlight coming from outside.

My breath caught in my throat as a throbbing in my butt became more apparent to me.