Authors Notes: I know I have other stories that are desperately needing attention, but I couldn't get this out of my head. It has been slightly modified to fit with the more current promos and spoilers. Hopefully I can get this finished before the Episode airs but if not, I'll continue anyways.
What it Feels Like To Be A Ghost
Part One : Prologue
Sounds of metal on glass echo softly in the small airplane bathroom. The razor cuts the small white ball into a fine power. Tiny little shards that will burn his nose and the back of his throat, are separated out into four generous lines, that glisten from a lightbulb that hangs over the sink. Where the soap should be, a disposable razor for shaving lies in pieces with one razor missing from the three. A small droplet of blood, that dripped from a finger when his over anxious disassembly caused him to nick himself, runs down the sink and pools around the drain.
He pulls a straw from his pocket, it's previous place had been in his Pepsi that was served to him by a short, blonde flight attendant that had said he reminded her of her son. He briefly wonders if she would still say that now as he leans down over the small mirror that had been in his other pocket. The straw goes to his nose and is inserted slightly as he plugs the other nostril and inhales, first the sweet scent of Pepsi then the finely cut shards that are cutting his flesh as they pass through his nasal cavity and go down the back of his esophagus. He pretends not to see his reflection in the mirror as he inhales each line, pausing once to switch the straw from his left side, to his right.
Once the last line is gone, he pulls his head up and removes the straw and pinches his nose to help alleviate the burning. A minute passes and the intense pain is gone only to be replaced by a burst of energy and a euphoric sense of happiness. He knows what he's doing is wrong, but right now it doesn't matter. He's too high to care. Later when he's sober, he'll rationalize it with his twisted addicted mind distorting fiction into fact, and start the spiral down again.
He hears an overhead page from out the door, warning of the final decent and the last bit of sobriety wonders if it's some type of jibe at his actions and the fact he's about to greet his girlfriend who surely would abandon him if only she knew. He wouldn't worry about that right now though. He needs to focus on cleaning up the evidence of his newest imperfection.
He first puts the straw and the now empty baggy wrapped up in paper towels into the trash. Next he rinses off the mirror and razor blade, and places them back into his toiletry bag with the broken disposable razor. He pulls out his toothbrush, the original intention for the bathroom trip. He squeezes a dab of toothpaste onto the bristles. The taste of mint is lost on his numb tongue, but he's sure this will please his girlfriend. He spits out the remaining toothpaste and rinses his mouth out and finally takes a look in the mirror.
His eyes are dilated and bloodshot, dark bags beneath them. He frowns and pulls a pair of cheap sunglasses he picked up at the airport before he boarded when he had seen his eyes look exactly the same. He needs them to hide his indiscretions. He slips them on and sees himself in them for the first time. He smirks at the resemblance to Tom Cruise in Risky Business and wonders if it would be better to greet his girlfriend wearing only a button down shirt, white briefs and some socks. He's sure he could manage a slide while singing.
A knock on the door interrupts his thoughts, his short attention span has only gotten shorter since the first time he placed that straw to his nose so many months before. He's unsure what the voice said that called through the door, but he remembers something about returning to his seat.
He gathers his things and opens the door. It's the blonde flight attendant and she does not look amused. She peers around him into the bathroom as if searching for something. Seeing nothing she lets him pass, he doesn't see her shaking her head, but is now positive that she no longer thinks he reminds her of her son. Unless her son is a cocain addicted wanna be rock star. He doubts that he is.
Once back at his seat, he buckles his seat belt and looks out the window, He can see the CN Tower, Almost home. His goal was to stay sober at home, that dream died at 30,000 feet.
"Please remain seated with your seat belt fastened as the plane touches down. The captain will turn off the Seatbelt sign when you can move freely around the cabin. Welcome to Toronto."