Page 92 of Dark Room Junkie

I had indeed become the bottom of society, and the path had been meticulously laid out for me by my cursed mother. I kept trying to push these thoughts aside because they stirred up a shame in me that I couldn’t handle. They constantly rattled the bars of my locked-up vices. The urge for alcohol or drugs increased by the minute, and it wasn’t even noon yet.

I needed a dry and warm place, where I could look for a place to stay for the night in peace and later have something to eat. The three slices of bread won’t be enough for me.

With this in mind, I went back to Langstrasse, bought a cola from the kebab shop, and sat in the corner where I could see the TV. Some telenovela was playing, and tinny Turkish pop blared from the weak speakers. Serkan had known me long enough and had never turned me away. I immersed myself in my phone and was annoyed by the numerous messages I still hadn’t read. I even lacked the strength to face Juri, although he would probably have been my last resort. But he was staying with Romero, and I wasn’t that desperate yet.

Who am I kidding here?

I spent a night in the damn emergency shelter.

And yet everything in me resisted asking my closest friends for help. My mother’s death might evoke pity in them and completely destroy me.

All of a sudden, a message popped up from Chris.“How are you doing?”

“Yeah, all good,”I texted, knowing it’s a lie.“Just caught a slight cold. It’ll be fine.”

I had mastered the art of pretending to everyone. I had learned from the best. From all the junkies who had come and gone in our lives for years. My luck was that despite the incident with Steffan, I still gave off a more or less flawless impression—apart from the shiner that was becoming visible. But I was freshly showered and no longer emitted the foul stench from my mother’s apartment. That helped me to maintain the facade a little longer.

Before noon, I sent out several messages to my acquaintances, hoping to secure a place to sleep. Then I pondered over my notebook and worked on my lyrics. It was the best way to distract myself. Once the lunchtime rush was over, I ordered a kebab. The replies gradually started trickling in, and they were far from encouraging. I knew that Tuesday was a crappy day to sort anything out, but ultimately it was probably the Christmas stress that was ruining my plans here. Not everyone had responded yet, so there was still hope, but the later it got, the more my hope dwindled.

My life was falling apart, but I couldn’t stop it. And my thoughts kept drifting back to Alex. I cursed the longing I felt for him and scolded myself for knowing better. Eventually, I would be sitting at the welfare office, and then they would probably force me to continue living in this apartment.

The nightmare!

I spent the whole day in the kebab shop, chatting a bit with Serkan, watching a few episodes of Turkish telenovelas, and trying to be optimistic. But outside, it was already dark again, people were now coming in for dinner, and I still hadn’t found a place to stay for the night.

I need to get out of here.

When I packed up my things, I spotted the benzos in my backpack. I could sell a few of them and get a room. I immediately dismissed the idea. That was not a long-term solution, but just for one night. With my mother’s death, my source, Romero, had dried up.

Completely absent-minded, I walked along Langstrasse like a ghost, with no idea where to go. Meanwhile, people were streaming into the bars or standing in groups on the street, smoking. I shivered and tried to control my fear.

Ever since I was a child, I feared the cold, waiting outside in the winter for my mother because she wouldn’t give me a key. It gnawed at me down to the bones, awakening a craving in me like I hadn’t felt in a long time. The monster pounded against the bars again, screaming for a fix. For alcohol or something else that would give me relief because the pressure was becoming unbearable.

Out of nowhere, someone grabbed me by the shoulder and a grinning face appeared beside me. “Noé! Nice to see you again?”

“Pascal,” I said, surprised. I hadn’t been able to message him because I didn’t have his number. He was nice and had given me his coat last year. Just that memory made it easy for me to smile at him. He was with two guys I didn’t know.

“We’re heading to the Olé-Olé-Bar. Wanna come?”

“I’m short on cash.”

“Oh, really? Come on, I’ll treat you. Just got my bonus.” He put his arm around my shoulders and pointed to his two colleagues. “These are Liam and Anton. We work together.”

“Hi!” Liam said, and Anton just nodded at me as he lit a cigarette.

Me and three investment bankers. Wonder how this’ll turn out?

But Pascal was okay. I’d crashed at his place a few times last winter and knew what he was about. But just thinking about it made my stomach knot up.

Maybe we’ll skip the sex tonight,I told myself, and my body relaxed again. Maybe I could crash at his place without anything happening.

You’re not that naive.

The bar was buzzing, probably because of the upcoming holidays. It was packed, and we squeezed into a recently vacated standing table.

“What are you drinking?” Pascal asked, close to my ear.

The craving inside me screamed, and I suppressed it. “Water.”

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