Page 117 of Paint the Town, Dove

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I never asked her why.

I mean, was Corban still in the picture? She looked wasted away –

I was just wasted.

I needed to talk to her. “Where’s my phone?”

Someone was feeding me water, I could tell. No bite.

“Mr. Spectre, I’m going to put your glasses on.” Morty, I could recognize his voice anywhere.

“Where have you been, big guy? You’ve been so absent lately.”

He whispered something like, “It was you who didn’t notice,” but I didn’t want to believe that.

I’ve been here.

[Unaware.]

Present.

[Unstable.]

It’s fucking FINE.

“Who’s this?”

Two dudes marched up to the table, one lady.

I peered down, looked at her straight. She was pretty, brownish hair, blonde in some parts. Young, my age kind of.

How old was I?

“Why are you laughing?” Donny swatted at me.

Was I?

“Ryden, these are the founders of Arc & Sheild Records, my bosses. Yoursuperiors,” Tav cemented that last word.Noted.

“Hey,” I shook their hands, slow-mo.

“Sit up straight,” Mallory hissed through pink lips. Ha, ha. God, she was fucking mad at me.

(I was mad at myself. Hated myself, actually. Knew what I was doing and why, and that’s why I kept doing it.)

Scarlett wouldn’t tell me to sit up straight. She’d pinch my fucking knuckles and make me bleed, and I wanted her to gut me like a fucking fish if that’s what it would take to inhale her like cocaine right now.

I missed her.

I fucked us, didn’t I?

“Mr. Spectre?” Tall, blonde guy asked me something. Shit.

“He’ll do it,” Tav answered for me.

“Do what?” I asked, no shame.

That pretty lady turned to me now, arms crossed. She did not want tobe here. I didn’t either.

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