It was dark, the neon glow of an open sign flickered and glittered at the end of the block. There was only one street light at the corner, buzzing. There were no cars at this time of night, every apartment had extinguished their bedside lamps and the city was at rest. A man, wearing a army drab coat about two sizes too big, rested against the lamp post, looking at the car parked at the end of the street, a car much to nice for the neighborhood. The door opened, a slender figure approached the man, and under the flicker of the neon he recognized him.
"My, my," he said, grinning up at the man emerging from the gloom
"Its been far too long hasn't it?" his smile was sinister, Spencer hunched against some invisible chill.
"What do you have?" Spencer asked, his expression unreadable in the pale lamplight.
"ah, pick your poison." the man continued smiling unpleasantly up at Spencer.
"you know." he said, straight faced. "I have 50" he handed the cash over and in a moment two vials were pressing against the inside of his pockets. Quite a weight, indeed. And on the slow and steady walk back to the car, their weight became more and more noticeable. He drove past the man on the corner, hoping that the cars headlights would burn him to cinders.
He knew that soon the sun would be rising soon as he pulled into the garage and pressed the button to close the door, he considered the weight in his pocket which seemed to grow heavier and heavier with each passing moment. He shoved a hand into his pocket and ran the vial between his two fingers, the glass was still a little cold and it was dark in the garage. The musty smell reminded him of his mother's hospital and he silently fumbled for the car light, a empty void expanding under his ribcage. In his bag was the syringe he had commandeered from a pharmacy earlier that day, when he was still trying to talk himself out of it. Saying he was just getting prepared, just in case, even though he always knew that this moment was inevitable from the moment he stared at Jennifer and said "well I thought about it"
Rolling up his sleeve on auto pilot and going through in his mind the thousand hour conversations he had had, trying and trying to avoid this very moment he was trapped in, each lie building up in his blood stream until his ears felt red and his heart was beating against his ribs as if it was going to leap out and run away. He tried to calm himself down as he filled the needle with the amber liquid, darkly thinking about the first time, about Emily's funeral, about his first meeting, about that one year chip that was sitting on his dresser. Spencer tried in vain to convince himself that at that moment he could walk away, that he didn't have to loose all his hard work and all his time. And even as he was thinking that though, the needle came down into his skin and then, nothing.
When he awoke the sun was full in the sky, and the car was hot and the leather seats sticky. He had pieces of hair stuck to his face and a needle sticking out of his arm. Gently removing it with a wince, both regret and pain, his stomach sank into his shoes as he got out of the car. He knew he had something to do today, something important he thought, his brain still fuzzy around the edges. A vague sense of horror seemed to float above his head as he peeled the clothes from his body and left them strewn around the house, his muscles aching and throbbing.
Something cold and soft was all he wanted at that moment, in the house filled with daylight and the smell of sweat and entropy. He went to the bathroom and looked at his face in the mirror, pale and sad with dark circles from the lack of sleep. As cold water splashed on his face, he caught in the corner of the mirror a dark purple bruise on the inside of his elbow. He was full of despair.
Across the street from Rossi's house, the drugs didn't hit him as hard. Though for a moment after getting out of the car again, he became so dizzy he had to place a hand on the car to steady himself. And walked, hunched, itchy, to the door of the mansion. A funny place to be, he thought, a faint hollow euphoria pouring through his veins.
"Sorry I'm late" he said. They smiled up at him.