Side Effects

Liquid Cure

"So you're telling me you're still paying for treatment that in the long run, is not going to cure you?"

Echelle sighed and leaned down to lay her forehead on the cool marble top of the bar she sat at.
"Yes, Gene. It's what my physician suggested I do. There's a very low mortality rate when it comes to what I've got, but the studies they're doing show that a full recovery is possible. And in terms of the payment, Forton is taking care of it. "

"Forton?"

"The company that produced Abraxam. You know, the arthritis medicine that screwed me up." Echelle looked grudgingly at her friend Genevieve behind the bar who, as a result of working a bartender's shift on a Friday evening, was struggling to keep up with the drink orders, pouring various concoctions of alcohol into a multitude of glasses on the marble counter.

"Okay, so they're making up for their boo-boo by giving you a big 'loada money, huh?" Genevieve's eyebrows raised as she flashed a mischievous grin to her slightly intoxicated friend.

"Yes ma'am. And a lot of it." Echelle picked up her glass of Tennessee Honey and downed the last of its remains as if it accentuated her response somehow. She grabbed her purse and set it on the counter. A plethora of pills and their containers could be heard rattling against each other in the black off-brand leather bag.

Despite the Friday night crowd's loud murmuring in the three star restaurant, Genevieve looked over to the dark bag, to its owner's gloomy eyes, then to the empty glass off to the side of Echelle.

"Are you sure you should... y'know, be drinking nowadays?" Genevieve's eyebrows changed form once again, pressing towards one another, exhibiting her worry for her friend's health. She wiped down a newly washed glass with a white washcloth and set it with a row of other shiny, clear cups. Without giving Echelle any time to respond to her question, she stuffed the rag in her back pocket, two thirds of it hanging out, and poured more golden liquid into her friend's empty glass next to a variety of pills Echelle had set out.

"It's good to see you with some color in your cheeks."

Echelle looked up from the smiley face that she had arranged out of the various pills on the cold, marble countertop to Genevieve's modest face.

"See, there is a cure!" Echelle exclaimed mockingly, laughing and reaching for her Honey glass with one hand, the other cupped around the medication that was due to take.

Genevieve looked into the distance behind Echelle at a man and what appeared to be his daughter seated across the room. His eyes hadn't left Echelle or her blue dress for a while. She giggled and leaned over the counter.

"There's a man back there who keeps looking at you," Genevieve whispered with a giggle.

Echelle's dark eyes widened and she couldn't help but let her rosy, alcohol kissed cheeks raise high to her eyes in a bashful smile.