LÍO

‎ديفيد

Waking up on the leather sofa in an ocean of his own bodily fluids isn't an ideal situation to be in. 

His mouth's dry, his mind feels like a nuclear testing zone and he can barely hear a thing.

Crawling onto the floor, he opens up his eyes and lays on the ornamental rug, upside down with his face pressed against the edge of the leather material.

On the ceiling, he still sees stars, although the sun is shining through the room and making it unbearably warm.

Laughing as the stars turn to fairy dust, his whole body begins to tingle.

In his element for the next fifteen minutes, he stays frozen to the spot before the stars disappear and reality sets in once again.

Before he can get back up again, a well-built man walks in with his eyebrows raised. He stops beside David with two cups of coffee:

"Are you alright?" The deep but calming voice asks him. David nods back. "Your Maman said that you had a rough night?"

David laughs back. "I did drugs with my new friend, Adam. He was having a bad night, so I wanted to cheer him up."

Bruce nods and sits down on the sofa. "I see. How are you gonna drink coffee down there?"

David smiles and gets up. He sits beside Bruce and takes the cup of coffee. "Thanks."

"No problem, Kid." Bruce adds with a smile. "Are you getting dressed anytime soon?"

David checks himself over and realises that he's wearing nothing but a pair of boxers and a loose, silk shirt unbuttoned over his chest. He buttons it up. "Sorry. I thought I was covered up."

"It's alright. It happens to the best of us. So, are you coming to check out this house with me? Give us some interior design ideas?"

David yawns. "Later? I have some errands to run, Bruce. Maman also wants me to pick up some things for her."

Bruce nods back. "Sounds good, Son? Or do you want me to call you my Son?"

"Honestly? I don't mind. You take good care of my Maman and I appreciate it, Bruce. I'm glad you're my Stepdad."

"And I'm glad you're my Stepson."

David nods and has a chat with Bruce before he finishes up his coffee and decides that the new day's beginning. Having a refreshing shower manages to clear his mind, except for one thing:

Where's Adam? keeps echoing through his head. Is he okay?

Adam, Adam, Adam continues as he steps out of the shower and dries himself off. I feel guilty, Adam. Are you okay? Will you still talk to me if I find you?

Trying on some coloured shirts doesn't ease his mind much either. Or a pair of khaki shorts.

Neither does looking his most recent still life sketches.

The guilt seems to be eating away at his conscience, even though he barley knows the guy. Something is telling him to find Adam.

Sighing, he slips on a plain blue t-shirt, jeans and trainers and unlocks his phone. No messages of interest to be found. Just some people asking about those drugs. He can answer them later.

Opening up Instagram, he goes onto Adnan's page and looks through his contacts until he manages to find a profile with an image of Adam on it.

Letting out a deep breath, he messages him:

MR. BEAULIEU: Are you okay after last night, Adam? 😥 I'm sorry for leaving you.

ADZ01: 👍 I'm at work.