Page 74 of Dark Room Junkie

When he had said goodbye to me shortly after, so casually and coolly as if I hadn’t just vomited my feelings at his feet, he had taken a piece of me with him. The whole week, I had been cold and miserable. The days were too long, and the nights even longer. I kept waking up from bizarre dreams, pacing around the apartment like a lunatic. When I looked at myself in the mirror, I saw my father’s face and couldn’t sleep at all. I had promised myself to call my therapist in the morning, something I hadn’t done since Geneva. But as soon as the day broke, I lost interest and convinced myself that I could sort out the chaos in my head on my own. In the meantime, I took pills to deal with my headaches, but they hadn’t worked since yesterday.

At least I didn’t have to wait long for the bus. Unfortunately, to my dismay, it was completely overcrowded. So, I leaned against a window in the entrance area and wiped the sweat from my forehead. Just the thought of photographing a few more apartments and new constructions next week felt like a blow, and it was becoming increasingly difficult to keep myself standing.

The anthracite-colored clouds caused it to darken outside, and I saw my reflection in the glass. I stared at myself and watched as my face changed. The eye sockets darkened, the cheekbones became more pronounced, and a strand of hair fell onto my forehead.

“I love you, Alex. You know that, don’t you? Only you. No one else.”

My chest tightened, and the bus’s jolting felt like an earthquake. The door opened, and people crowded behind me to get off. I rushed out in a panic and gasped, hoping the cold air would ease my breathing, but my lungs tightened and burned even more. I stumbled past the people and made my way to a bench, tearing open my bag to search for the asthma spray.

Did I forget it?

No! Please!

Where is it?

I found it in a side pocket. I sprayed it into my mouth and collapsed onto the bench, completely exhausted, breathing deeply and clutching onto my bag.

Damn it! This can’t be real.

I couldn’t help but notice how people were looking at me. Right away, I tousled my hair, rubbed my face, and straightened up. Unfortunately, I couldn’t hide my fever, but with an upright posture, I could at least distract others from the fact that I was a complete wreck.

Although I was only at Hard Station, there was no way I would get back on a bus, even if you paid me. Even though I could hardly keep myself standing at the moment, I decided to walk the rest of the way home.

At home, I collapsed, exhausted on the couch. For a while, I lay motionless, staring at the ceiling. My whole body tingled, and my head spun. The memories were like a lightning storm, one after another. I came to the realization that I couldn’t possibly spend the weekend alone at home. I would rather shoot myself!

After things went so well last week and I stayed away from Livio’s despite the unpleasant conversation with Noé, I decided to leave it that way for the time being. But my heart was racing, and my head felt like it was about to explode. The Valium was long gone, and the headache pills were useless. All I wanted was to find some peace, to sleep without these constant dreams and the carousel of memories that I couldn’t shake off anymore. Even my appetite was gone.

I have to get out of here.

To Livio. Just the thought helped me to regain some composure. I messaged him, asking if there was a party planned for tonight.

“Yep, just a small gathering,”was his reply.

I took a shower and shaved. It wasn’t the prospect of sex that got me back on track, but rather the idea of getting high. Livio and Philippe would supply me with the drugs I needed to come down from this horror trip and the constant palpitations.

Since the bus ride had once again shown me that my nerves couldn’t handle it, I called an Uber. Shortly after, I was standing at Livio’s door.

The hydrogen-blond journalist greeted me with a warm hug. “Alex! Good to see you again. Come in. Philippe has been missing you since last week.”

Even though I knew this was about sex, I had grown somewhat attached to the two, and I considered them kind of like friends. Livio took my jacket and beamed at me like a June bug.

“You’re looking good,” he said, lifting a huge weight off my shoulders. The long shower and shave apparently masked the disaster brewing inside me.

“You too,” I replied. It had only been two weeks since I last saw him, but he seemed somehow different. “Are you letting the blond hair grow out?”

“I know! The dark roots! But I haven’t had time to dye it yet.”

“I like it.”

“Come on!”

Livio took me by the arm and led me into the living room, where two other guys sat beside Philippe. As usual, the sofas and the armchair were covered with white sheets, and in the middle of the table, alcohol and drugs were already laid out.

“Alex!” Philippe exclaimed, jumping up and embracing me. “Good to have you here!”

“What’s gotten into you?” I asked, surprised. “You don’t usually greet like this.”

“I just missed you!” he said, kissing me on the cheek. “The guy who fucked me last week ... He was nothing!”

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