Epilogue
Justin
“You know, it was a year ago today that I kicked your ass,” I said to Tyler. I was trying to provoke him. I knew what I was getting myself into. I wanted to get him fired up.
He cocked his head to one side, “Careful what you say, Justin,” he said.
“Or what?” I said, testing him.
“Or you’re going to regret it.” he said, with a smirk on his face.
Tyler hit me. He was tougher and faster now. It was almost hard for me to keep up with him. I went to block his next hit, and in an instant, he had me on the mat in a rear naked choke. I tapped the mat next to him.
We both got up off the mat and made our way out of the ring. I nodded and smiled at Tyler. I was proud of the progress he’d made in the last year.
“Great work, man; I told you if you can get someone to submit you’ll have every fight in the bag,” I said to him as we took a break.
“You were right. They are easy to use. Too bad you don’t fight anymore,” he said.
“Being a coach is a lot more fitting for me,” I said with a laugh. “And watch the cockiness. It’s gonna get you in trouble.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever, man,” he said.
I removed my protective sparring gear and let Tyler know he was good for the day before heading into my office to get some of the more mundane tasks done. I sat down to fill out some paperwork when I noticed Artie passing by.
“Hey, Artie, what do you think about Tyler’s new moves?” I called out to him.
“They’re great. You’re turning him into a beast. Now that he knows all the big submission holds, no one is gonna stand a chance against him. You were a great fighter, but you’re an even better coach, Justin,” he said.
“That’s because I’ve had the best mentor in the game,” I said.
“Flattery won’t get you another raise,” Artie laughed. “Make sure Tyler gets his cocky attitude under control.”
“I’m trying,” I said.
I had been working as a coach alongside Artie for the last nine months. Fighting was always a big part of my life, and even though I didn’t want to do it anymore, I still found that I wanted to be around it, and Tyler had signed up as my first client.
“Do you mind if I dip out of here early today? I’m picking Margie up early from school for the surprise.”
“Is that today?” he asked.
“Yeah. She’s pretty excited.”
“Yeah, go ahead. It’s an important day for both of you,” he said.
“Thanks, Artie,” I said.
Artie went back to what he had been doing, and I finished filing away some papers on a possible new client. He was tough and fast but had a lot of trouble focusing. He reminded me of myself, and I wanted to coach him for just that reason. There was more paperwork and less action being a coach, but my life was a lot less stressful. I had more time to spend with Margie, which was what I’d always wanted.
I still had two more hours before I could leave to get Margie and they were ticking by so slowly. After I filed the paperwork, I went into the open gym and helped a few people out with their forms. I noticed a lot more women had signed up to train at the gym since I became a coach. It was a little amusing to me.
They always wanted my help, but I tried to avoid the ones that directly asked for my help because they weren’t there to actually learn or train. Their form seemed to get sloppier as time went on. It was clear to me they were only there to see me, and I didn’t have the time for that sort of thing.
I grabbed my phone and car keys out of desk drawer and headed for the door.
“Hey man!” Joe called from inside the ring where he was sparring with another person. “Good luck today!”
“Thanks. I could use it,” I said with a small laugh.
I left before anyone else could talk to me. I had promised Margie I would pick her up thirty minutes early from school today for a surprise we had planned.
As I walked to my car, I noticed that the sky seemed a little bluer than usual and the birds seemed to sing a little louder. I figured maybe it was just my excitement for what was to come.
I got in my car and drove to the other side of town to Margie’s school. It was crazy to think she was already finished with kindergarten. She had taken a test at the beginning of the year to see if she was ready for it, and she passed with flying colors. I couldn’t be prouder of her.
She had no trouble in kindergarten and was going to be starting first grade in the fall. It was a little bit hard to take in when I thought about it. She was growing up so fast.
I pulled up to her school, got out, and walked through the front doors. I went into the office.
“Hello, Justin. Are you here to pick up Margie?” The front office ladies knew me by name because of the number of hours I volunteered at the school. Unfortunately, I couldn’t remember their names. I just knew them as the blonde haired one and the brunette one.
“Yeah. I’ve got a surprise planned out,” I said as I signed the sign-out sheet.
“She told us this morning,” the blonde-haired lady said.
“She did?” I asked, not at all surprised.
“Yes. She was so excited. She came running in here before the first bell to tell us that she would be leaving early today,” the brunette said.
I laughed. “She’s a crazy kid.”
The blonde picked up the black phone on her desk, typed in a number, and waited.
“Mrs. Schwarts, can you send Margie to the office with her things? Her dad is here to pick her up.”
She told the teacher thank you and then hung up the phone. A few minutes passed before Margie walked into the office.
“Daddy! Let’s go!” she said.
The front office ladies laughed.
“See you on Monday, Margie,” the blonde said.
“Okay,” she said and grabbed my hand.
“See you guys later,” I said.
“Bye!” they said together.
“And good luck!” the brunette yelled after us.
I waved at her to let her know I heard her.
Margie had a hold of my hand and was dragging me out of the building. “Come on, Daddy! We have to go!”
I laughed. “Okay, I’m trying.”
We raced out the front doors to my car, and I buckled her in right away.
“Artie was okay with you leaving work?” she asked when I got into the driver’s seat.
“Of course. I don’t see why he wouldn’t be.”
“Okay, good. Because this is very important.”
I shook my head and laughed at her use of the word “important.”
The drive wasn’t long, but it felt like it took hours just to get back across town. I was trying to calm my nerves as I drove, but it was hard. This surprise was going to be huge, and if she hated it, it would be the biggest disappointment of my life.
“Are you all ready for the surprise?” she asked me.
“Yep. I’ve got everything I need,” I responded.
I caught her eye in the mirror as we drove on toward downtown. “I’m so excited for this!” she said, looking at me.
“I am too, baby,” I said.
I had been planning the surprise for almost two months and could hardly believe that the day had finally arrived.
“This is going to be the best day ever,” Margie said. She was now looking out the window, but she still had a bright smile on her face.
“I know. It really will be,” I said.
A few minutes later, we parked in a parking spot. I helped Margie get out of the car, and we started walking down the sidewalk. All the closer spots had been taken already, so we had to walk a bit, but I didn’t mind because it gave me a couple minutes to calm my nerves.
“Are you nervous?” Margie asked me.
“Uh, a little I guess,” I admitted. I was trying to hide the fact that I was extremely nervous, I didn’t want her to catch on. “Are you?”
“No. I’m excited,” she said with a matter-of-fact tone.
We reached the building we needed, and I opened the door for Margie. The front waiting room was empty, and then I heard another door open.
“Margie! Justin! What are you guys doing here?” Anna said as she walked toward us. She was carrying a bag of trash that must have been from the massage room. She set it down next to the front desk.
Margie ran up and hugged her.
“We just stopped by to say ‘hi,’” Margie said.
Anna glanced at her watch. “School’s not even out yet. Are you sick?” she put her hand on Margie’s forehead.
“No,” she said. “I feel great!” she started to giggle. I hoped she could keep it together for a little while longer.
Anna set Margie down and took a step forward to hug me. “Hello, handsome,” she said.
“Hello, gorgeous,” I said and hugged her back. “I’ve been doing some thinking.”
“Oh yeah? What about?”
“Well, about us,” I said.
Anna stopped hugging me and took a step back. She had a funny look on her face. “What about us?” she sounded a little worried.
“You’re amazing, Anna. In every way possible, in every sense of the word. I wouldn’t be where I am today if it wasn’t for you,” I said and got down on one knee. My heart was racing in my chest.
Anna put a hand to her mouth and tears sprung to her eyes.
“One year ago, today, I won my final fight. More importantly, right before that fight, I confessed my love for you. Anna Marie Winters, will you do me the honor of spending the rest of your life with me?” I pulled out the ring box from my pocket and opened it.
Margie got down on one knee next to me and pulled a box out of her backpack. “Anna, will you be my mommy?”
Anna started crying, but she was nodding her head and holding out her left hand. I slid the one carat, white gold ring onto her hand.
I felt tears in my own eyes and saw that Margie was crying as well.
Anna wiped her tears away, using the back of her right hand and then took the box from Margie. Inside, was a white gold necklace with a heart pendant that said “mom” in the center.
Anna hugged us both, and then I helped her put the necklace on.
“I’m never going to take it off,” she said.
“This is the best day ever!” Margie yelled.
We both laughed.
“I have to call my parents,” Anna said and went around the desk. She grabbed her phone and came back over to us. Margie and I sat down on the waiting room chairs, and Anna sat on my lap. She dialed her mom’s number and put it on speaker phone so we could all hear them.
“Hello, honey,” her mom said.
“Hey, mom, I have you on speaker. Is dad around?” she asked.
“Okay. Yeah, I’ll go get him.”
We waited for a moment as Millie spoke to Tom and then put the phone on speaker.
“Hello, everyone,” Tom said.
“Hi, Papa and Nana!” Margie said into the phone.
“Margie, sweetie! How are you?”
“I’m good! Mommy and daddy are getting married!” she yelled into the phone.
All we could hear for two minutes was Millie happily screaming into the phone. “I can’t believe it!” she yelled.
“Congratulations!” Tom said.
“Thank you,” Anna and I said at the same time.
Her parents asked a bunch of questions and congratulated us a few more times before finally hanging up the phone.
“I love you, Anna,” I said to her.
“I love you too, Justin. And I love you, Margie,” she said to us.
“I love you too, mommy,” she said and threw her arms around her. “I can call you mommy now, right?”
Anna nodded her head. “Yes, yes. You can.”
“Let’s go celebrate,” I said to my girls.
“Where at?” Anna asked.
“The Italian restaurant we went to with your parents about a year ago,” I suggested.
Margie jumped up. “Yes! Let’s go there!”
“Okay, let me finish closing up for the day, first,” Anna said.
After fifteen minutes, Anna was finished and had locked up the studio. We walked out to my car where we got inside, and I drove to the restaurant. When we got there, I approached the hostess stand and said, “I have a 4:30 reservation for three under the name Justin.”
The hostess scanned a piece of paper with her eyes and placed her finger on something. “Yep, here it is. Have a seat, and we’ll get your table ready,” she said.
The three of us sat down, and Anna hit me on the arm.
“You already made reservations?” she asked with a smile.
“Yep.”
“And what if I had said no?”
I looked at her. “You wouldn’t have.”
“Oh, is that so? What makes you think that?” she asked with a sly grin.
“Because you love us too much,” Margie said, exaggerating the word “too.”
“That’s true,” Anna said.
Our table was ready within two minutes, and we were seated in a private area.
“You booked a whole room just for us three?” she asked.
I nodded. “Yes, I’ve been planning this for a while.”
“Obviously,” she said, and amazement was evident on her face. “That sure is a big table for just the three of us.”
Just as she was about to sit down, people filed into the room.
“SURPRISE!” they all yelled in unison.
There was my mom, her parents, Ally, and Artie.
Anna’s mouth dropped. “Oh my god,” she said and tears formed in her eyes again.
We took turns hugging people and telling them “thank you” when they congratulated us. The evening was perfect. It was everything I imagined it would be.
“So, you already knew when I called you? Why did you scream like that?” Anna asked her mom as we waited for the check.
“Well, I knew he was going to ask you, but I didn’t know you said yes until you told me,” Millie said.
I leaned into Anna. “I even asked your dad for permission when I first started planning this.”
“Seriously? How did you get his number?” she asked.
“Remember when I told you I took a trip to visit a possible new client?”
Her mouth dropped open. “You went to visit them?”
I nodded my head. “I discussed the whole thing with them. They both gave me their permission and said that my ideas sounded perfect for you.”
Anna leaned over and kissed me.
“Let me see the rock!” Ally said from her seat across from Anna.
Anna held up her hand.
“Holy rock. Good job, Justin,” Ally said.
“Thanks,” I smiled.
When dinner was finished, we made our way back to Anna’s house. We already had plans to move in together at the end of the month when my lease was up, so that was one decision already checked off the list.
“I can’t believe everything you did for me today,” Anna said after we put Margie to bed in her princess bed that Anna bought a few months back.
I gave her a kiss. “I wanted to do so much more, but funds and timing were both a little short.”
“This was perfect, Justin,” she said. “Thank you.”
Anna and I sat down on the couch. She put her head on my shoulder, and I held her left hand. We both stared at her ring.
“I hope you like it,” I said,
“I love it. And the necklace. They’re both perfect,” she said.
“You know, when Tammy passed away, I couldn’t even picture myself ever dating again. And then I started fighting, and I was having problems with my back muscles. I had appointments with three other massage therapists the day I met you,” I said.
“You did?” she sounded surprised.
“Yeah, but I canceled them after I met you. There was something about you that just made me want to get to know you better. Then, I had to make the hard decision of cutting our sessions out. They were too expensive, and I had other priorities. It hurt me to have to walk away from you like that, but then you approached me about your plan to play boyfriend. I couldn’t pass that up. It gave me the opportunity to play the role that I knew I already wanted. And it was then that I knew I was ready to move on, to date again, and possibly even get married again.”
I gave Anna a kiss.
“And now here we are,” she said and held up her hand.
“Yes. Here we are.” I gave her another kiss.
Margie came out of her room. “I can’t sleep,” she said.
“Come here, sweetheart,” Anna said and grabbed a blanket from under her coffee table.
Margie walked over and sat in between us. Anna covered the three of us up with the blanket. It was at that moment that I knew I could spend every single night for the rest of my life just like that.
“This was the best day of my whole life,” Margie said, sleepily.
“Mine too,” Anna and I said at the same time. We looked at each other and both smiled. I knew I made the right decision on that fateful day to play her boyfriend. Little did we know, the role would turn into something that would change both of our lives forever.
By Claire Adams
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2017 Claire Adams
Chapter One
Nate
I rolled the window of my car down, letting some fresh air in. The planes above looked really big taking off and landing. You sort of forgot how freaking huge they were when they were flying above you.
My assistant told me that the flight was at eight in the morning. I'd been sitting in my car about ten minutes, watching the sun start to rise over LAX, wishing I'd got a later flight. It was six thirty in the goddamn morning; the only other time I was awake that early was when I'd been up the entire night and hadn't gotten to sleep yet.
What was I even doing here? I could have asked Dad to use his plane. I was Nate Stone; I didn't have to fly commercial.
I shut my eyes and leaned back against the driver's seat. In ten hours, I wouldn't have to think about this place for another three months. I'd be in a fucking suite with a hula dancer sucking me off. I'd be eating seafood and drinking rum. I'd be too far away for any of the assholes in LA to get to me.
I watched a plane take off and fly into the distance, until I couldn't see it anymore. In two hours, that would be me. I just had to last ’til my flight. I'd checked in online already, and I was flying first class. Just two hours, man, I said to myself. This vacation was way overdue. I knew it was over when I tried to write a song the other day and got nothing.
Nothing. Not a word. The band didn't use my songs anymore, but fuck it, I did. The touring, the booze, the girls — it had done something. It had finally caught up with me. Yeah. That was it. Because there wasn't any fucking dope and booze in Hawai’i. I’d be fine if I just got away from it.
I checked the time again. Five minutes had passed. Fuck. Could I fall asleep? Go inside? Eat? Something? Anything other than just sit here and wait?
My phone was ringing. Still ringing. I'd ignored a phone call twice already. I didn't know who the fuck was trying so hard, but I was pretty sure you were meant to stop trying when it was obvious the person you were calling didn't want to talk to you.
Fuck, what if it was important, though? What if it was my manager? Or Dad?
The ringing stopped as soon as I reached for the phone to check who I'd been blowing off. I grimaced reading the name. Not my manager Doug. Not my father. Nope. It was Kirsten. I had her name on there as Kiki because that was what I'd called her when we were together, and I'd just never gotten around to changing it to something else.
Kirsten Andrews. Sorry, Kirsten Stone: she'd kept my last name.
Hmm, I wonder what she wants, I thought cynically. We didn't have any kids together, so it wasn't that. Couldn't have been her settlement because she'd cleaned the fuck up during the divorce. I'd call five million for three years of marriage a pretty good deal. Unless the bitch wanted more, which she was not getting.
I could still hear the wedding bells. Kirsten had filed for divorce, not me. I had told myself back then that it was so many different things. She was just a bitch, she wanted my money all along, and she had met someone else. She was one of those women who used marriage to marry and then divorce even richer people. I couldn't stand thinking she thought of me as her starter husband.
There was the little thing where I was drinking till I blacked out each day, but I had been too drunk to realize that that was it. And by the time I had, and lied to her that I would stop, I had already moved on to something a little stronger.
Was there a time I ever loved her? Every time we'd had to go to court, I wasn't so sure. It had been almost five months now since the split was finalized. There was nothing I still had to say to her. There was nothing she could have said to me that I actually wanted to hear.
She'd left me a voice-mail. Delete it, the voice in my head said. Delete it because you're going to listen to it and regret it immediately. My thumb hovered over the screen as I thought about that. Yeah, Kirsten drove me crazy, and yeah, I was here at the airport because I wanted to get the fuck away from her and everything else, but since I was going anyway, what was the harm in listening to it?
I'd listen, get mad, and this time tomorrow, I'd have two naked Hawai’ian girls in my bed, drunk off my ass in the middle of fucking paradise. I'd listen, and when I got to Hawai'i, I'd throw my phone in the ocean.
Was it worth it though? What was the worst thing she could say?
I played the message. Kirsten's voice filled the car, like she was in there with me. I frowned, listening; she had the bitch meter turned on high. Her voice got really shrill when she yelled.
"Nathan," she was saying on the message. She did that when she was mad at me. Talked to me like I was her kid. "Nathan, why aren't you answering your phone? You bastard, I know you have it on you. You always do." I leaned back in my seat, closing my eyes. Bad idea. Should have deleted.
"Where are you? You know what? I don't care. It doesn't matter anyway. Your manager's been calling me. He wants to know where you are. You can't hide, you know that, right? You remember you signed a contract, don't you?" she was saying. No, I forgot that, Kirsten; thanks so much for reminding me that I owe my next three albums to that bloodsucking label, I thought.
"I told him I didn't know where you were. I can't believe you're throwing this all away. How long were you making your music waiting for someone to sign you?
“Whatever. The band will do just fine without you. Doug taking a chance on you was obviously a waste of his time. It's sad, really. Keep hitting that bottle, babe. Go ahead and throw that dream away. What would you be without your rich daddy anyway? Nothing. Maybe Remus can dedicate their next album to you in their Grammy speech-"
I cut the message off. There was about half a minute left, but I didn't have to listen to her anymore.
Fuck.
I could feel it. It was happening. I shut my eyes and tried to stop it. It felt like hot water bubbling up from my stomach to my chest, till I felt it in my head. It felt like being in a locked room with only one way to get out.
She was right. They didn't need me. They had producers and money from a major label. They could hire anyone to write. They could hire anyone to play and just put their names on it. They could just shit out album after album and watch the money pile up. They could keep going on tour — getting high, drunk, laid. Have a great time.
I wasn’t part of Remus, not anymore. They had our sound perfected; they could swap us all out and replace us the next day, and it wouldn’t make a difference. It was generic. It was stock; it wasn’t real. Obviously, they could make money with or without me. They didn’t need me.
Fuck. I couldn't think. I felt like my skin was trying to crawl off my body. I couldn't fly like this.
Good thing I came prepared. I kept my stuff in the glove compartment. I always had a kit close. My travel kit was small compared to my other one. Just the essentials. Syringe. Belt. Dope — pharma grade, of course; I wasn't trying to kill myself. Just a little something to take the edge off. It wasn't a big deal.
I quickly looked out the window, rolling my sleeve up. I belted my arm and filled the syringe. I could almost feel it already. The anticipation before the high was almost as good as the main event.
I flexed my arm, looking for somewhere to stick it. I watched the needle puncture the skin and shot one hundred percent pure, right in my vein.
I took the belt off and leaned back in my seat, sighing. Yeah. That hit the spot. It was like that feeling when you were cold and got in a hot tub. Just like a liquid orgasm spreading all over your whole body.
Right then, I forgot everything. I wasn't at the airport. I wasn't in my car. I was in heaven. I opened my eyes, watching another plane go by. It looked so happy. Maybe if I'd gotten Kirsten on heroin, she wouldn't be such a bitch.
Time must have passed; it felt like hours, but it must have been half an hour or something. Everything moved slower when I was high. Everything was better. I had to leave, though. I had a flight to catch.
I rolled my sleeve down. I could hide being high, but the track scars were a dead giveaway. I pulled my hood up because I'd forgotten my baseball cap. Another reason why I should have fucking flown private. That way, nobody would recognize me.
I got out of my car and went to the trunk to pull my suitcase out. I left my kit in the car because I had another packed. I'd check this bag so security wouldn't get to it. I didn't carry lighters or spoons and shit, obvious junkie paraphernalia. If they saw it, they'd see vials of clear liquid. When they read it, it would say it was insulin. Hidden in plain sight. Who wasn’t going to let a diabetic have his insulin? I'd done this so many times before.
The trick was to act natural. Don't give them a reason to think you're doing something wrong. For all they knew, you were just another miserable traveler who had to make the drive to LAX that day. TSA didn't even look for drugs like that. I'd be fine.
The high definitely helped. I got through security no problem. I took my time with it since I still had a lot of time left before the flight. Once I was at my gate, I considered my options. I had music in my carry-on backpack. I could put my headphones on and zone out till it was time to leave. I even had a book, but it was sort of hard to read while I was high.
There was a bar, though, and getting a jump on that rum didn’t sound like a terrible idea.
Was it too early for a drink? I checked the time. Twenty minutes past seven. Yeah. It was too early. I'd just shot up; I'd probably last the flight. I sat down at the bar anyway, thinking I’d just do it. If they didn't want anyone to drink, why'd they have it open at seven in the morning, anyway?
I kept my head down, even though it was basically just me. Not a lot of people on my flight probably. Not a lot of people trying to get drunk at seven in the morning. The bartender walked up to me. It was a dude. Young guy. I nodded slightly. He smiled, telling me good morning.
"Hey," I said tightly. "Can I have a...Coke? Just a Coke. With ice," I said. The guy smiled and went to get me my drink. I rolled my eyes. Fucking Coke. Could he top that off with some Captain Morgan? That sounded more like it.
It was seven in the morning, I couldn't do that. Even I had limits…sort of. I'd drink my Coke, get on the plane, and ask for Patron. The guy came back with an icy glass full of Coke. I said thanks and paid him.
"Hey, man, you must get this all the time," he said. Oh shit. "But has anyone ever told you you're a dead ringer for Nate Stone."
"Who?" I asked, sipping my drink.
"Nate Stone. That guy from Remus. Well, he used to be part of Remus. He left them recently. Pretty talented guy." I shrugged.
"Can't be that good if they kicked him out."
"They didn't kick him out. It was creative differences or something like that," he said. I smiled to myself. Creative differences. Thank God for good PR.
"Creative differences? Who was he? Like, their John Lennon?"
"He didn't like the direction the major label was taking band's music. Ever heard their stuff?"
"Nope. That Nate guy sounds like a loser," I said. The bartender kept looking at me. Telling him to fuck off would be the worst thing to throw him off my scent. You didn't want fans saying they met you, and you were a douche. I kept my head down, drinking my Coke.
"You know. You sort of sound like him, too," the guy said. I swore quietly. He knew. I looked at him.
"Did you like the label or independent stuff better?" I asked. The guy laughed. I hoped he’d say independent.
"I knew it was you. Where are you heading?"
"Hawai'i."
"Vacation?"
"Yep."
"Alone?" he asked. Too many questions. I was just about to answer him when I heard my boarding call. Saved by the bell.
"Yeah. Alone. In fact, I think I need to go get on that plane," I said, trying to discourage him.
"Before you go, could you sign this for me?" he asked, sliding a notebook over. I scribbled my autograph down and gave his notepad back. I finished the soda and got up, leaving to finally get on the plane.
Maybe it was a good thing I’d gotten a Coke. If I’d been on anything stronger, I would have told him anything. Everything he asked. Why I was going to Hawai’i, why we had actually split, the name of the upcoming album where I had had no creative input. I needed to get out of there.
Ten minutes later, I was on the plane. I'd gotten a first class ticket, but as soon as I was in my seat, I wished I'd bought the entire first class cabin out.
I was coming down. I was about to be in this flying tin can for like eight hours. Fuck. Next time, I was flying private — no fucking excuses. Nobody would ask me shit if I got my kit out and shot up at ten thousand feet if I was flying private. My kit was in my checked bag. I was taking this flight sober, unless I could drink.
What the fuck, Nate, I thought. What kind of loser can't stay clean for ten hours? I was already thinking about when I could get high again, and we hadn't even left the ground. I'd gotten high just two hours ago in the parking lot. It was the perfect opportunity to just stop and be normal for one day, and I hadn't been able to do it.
How much longer? How much fucking longer? What would it take? Did I have to die before I stopped doing this shit? I sighed. At least then I wouldn't have the choice to shoot up again.
This was about to be a long-ass flight.
I zoned out as the pilot and cabin crew made their announcements. Emergency exits are here, here, and here. Destination is Lanai Airport. Blah, blah, blah. I put my headphones on and turned on some music. I felt the plane start to move. Eight hours, and I'd be in paradise. Hula dancers sucking my dick. Palm trees and sunshine. In eight hours, I could forget everything that had happened today.