His associate, Mike, who wasn't a friend but wasn't called a dealer either, called through the locked door, "You alright in there?"
"Peachy," Vex's accented voice growled back, a burst of anger flooding his system against his will. He hated Mike more than he hated the Light Fae-at least at that specific moment-which was definitely saying something. Then again, Vex had just found out that the girl he'd been shacking up with-who was more of a slut than a girlfriend but had still been his-had screwed around with Mike behind the Mesmer's back.
Mike's irritating voice echoed through the door again, sounding more concerned than before, "You sure, V? Ya don't sound the greatest, 'f ya know what I mean."
Clenching his teeth, Vex forced the anger that was in his system to all center in one place, and then quickly dissipate. He let out a breath that always smelled too sweet to be his before saying in a falsely cheerful tone, "I'm bloody fine, Mike... Where's Trish?" Of course he was fine; he'd only taken three.
"Out to get a six pack for me and her... Said she'd pick ya up a bottle of that disgusting whiskey stuff you're always drinkin' too," Mike told him, seeming to shrug even though Vex couldn't see him.
"Oh, alright," the Mesmer shook his head, not caring anymore. It didn't matter, after all, he could deal with Mike and Trish later. Trish... that good for nothing whore. Vex wasn't one to date, that was true enough, but when he claimed somebody, he meant it. Trisha Vahn was his and she would pay for stabbing him in the back.
Taking a deep breath, he turned away from the sink and unlocked the door. Opening it slowly enough that, if Mike was still standing there, he wouldn't hit him with it, he stepped out of the room and stretched. He glanced over and saw Mike standing a couple feet away. "I'm going out," Vex informed him; that was dangerous territory. Both Mike and Trish knew that when Vex went out he got drunk, got high, raised Hell, fucked a stripper, and usually killed somebody. Up until the killing somebody part, that was all fine and dandy with Mike; it got sketchy with Trish (or so she said) when she found out Vex was going to strip clubs. But, having found out that Trish had screwed around with Mike, Vex didn't really care what she thought anymore.
It was only a breath later that Mike interupted Vex's train of thoughts, "Don't get yourself in too much trouble, V."
"Does it matter? I'm going to 'Ell anyways," Vex said light-heartedly, but as he walked away, he cast Mike a look that said he knew...
Later that night, having dealt with his demons in the best ways he knew how, Vex was walking back to Mike and Trish's place. Or, he was supposed to be. He didn't really want to go back there and get his nerves up in a tizzy again, but he hadn't found anybody to go home with either.
He stopped at a bench that was next to the side-walk and sat down, reaching into his pocket to pull out his lighter and smokes. Putting the cigarette in his mouth, he lit it before taking a long drag from it. Taking a deep breath and then breathing it out, he smiled slightly at the familiar scent of mint and tobacco. Menthol. His secret comfort.
Looking at his watch, he realized it was two thirty in the morning. That meant he should have waited another hour before it was really safe-though still not recommended-to take another dose of Mesnylcol. He didn't care. So he took another. Then, he returned his focus to his cigarette, letting the combination of mint-tinted tobacco and sweet-scented drugs fill the air around him.
A few minutes passed after Vex finished his cigarette, sighing at the relief the nicotine brought as he dropped the burnt cylinder onto the pavement, stomping it out with the heel of his boot. Once that was taken care of, he began making his way towards his family's mansion. It was odd to think that a drug addict had a mansion, but the explanation was fairly simple; he had inherited it when he was a teenager, along with a mass-amount of money, soon after his father disappeared and his mother died. The Mesmer had lost all of his family in the span of a few short years, which only grew to make him a worse person later in life.
It took roughly twenty minutes of absent walking before Vex realized just how far from home he really was. He was in "drug country" after all; mansions weren't common in places like this. Shaking his head, which granted him another wave of dizziness from the medication he'd taken, he quickly found a taxi-cab to drive him the fourty-five minutes there, and then back.
As Vex got into the passenger seat of the taxi, the driver asked, "Where to?" He watched Vex shut the door with a raised eyebrow, adjusting the radio. His eyes were half-blurry, which showed just how sober folks around that area were, but he seemed focused enough to drive.
"Rosemary Creek, the Valentino Estate," Vex replied coolly, memories of the estate flooding through his mind as he shut the passenger side door of the cab. He had grown up as Vincent Valentino, but had never quite fit that description; it wasn't long before a nickname like Vex stuck with him - and, not long after that, he had changed his legal name to that as well.
Shaking his head at the memories, especially the ones during the time that his father was alive, he let out a sigh. His stress levels were slowly coiling into a knot in his chest. Clearing his throat, he watched out the window as they drove towards Rosemary Creek - a small, rich town that very few people knew about. "You mind?" Vex asked the driver as he took one of his cigarettes out, holding it up slightly for the man to see.
"Just crack the window," the driver nodded lightly, eyes remaining on the road. Clearly, he didn't have the focus to spare in conversation, but Vex didn't mind that. Cracking his window as instructed, Vex took out his lighter and lit the mint-flavored cancer, taking a long drag from it before blowing it towards the window.
The car-ride was spent in silence and, roughly forty minutes later, the cab driver pulled into the gravel driveway of the estate. The mansion was huge and decorated in an almost Victorian fashion, holding true to its English herritage. Vex opened his door as he looked at the driver, "Stay 'ere, a'right? I'll be back before ya know it."
Swiftly, Vex stepped onto the large porch and took out the key to the front door, opening the place up. Stepping inside, he felt a pang of nostalgia, only half-missing the past that had taken place within the very same walls he was now in. He walked up the long array of stairs, slowly making his way to his bedroom. He flew open the doors of his closet and smirked darkly as he grabbed a few of his favorite items, tucking them into a black duffel bag.
Making his way back down the stairs, he switched off the hall's lights and re-locked the house, returning to the cab. "Ready to go?" the driver asked as Vex shut the passenger-side door once again.
Vex nodded, "Back to town, to Mike Sonorbi's house."
The man gave Vex an odd look, "Mr. Valentino-"
"-Vex, please," the Mesmer interrupted with a bit of a smirk. He loved having authority over people, even if it was a simple cab driver.
Shaking his head, the driver nodded, "Right... Vex, why on Earth are you going from a place like this." He paused to nod back at the mansion as he pulled out of the driveway, "To a place like Mike's?"
"Because, I have some business to discuss with him and Trisha Vahn," Vex told the man through gritted teeth. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a clear flask, taking a long drink of the contents before capping it and returning it to its hiding place. The man he was speaking with only shrugged and continued to drive, not seeming to really care either way.