This fic is dedicated to my friend Kahvi (ILU!) I was inspired by the "Suburban tribe - Silent rain".

Canon is so canon :ะก

I'm sad that my writing skills doesn't allow me to carry out all my ideas in a pecfect way. (But it's better to do something than to do nothing at all, right?)

P.S. English is still a foreign language to me. And still no beta. %)


Oh, how it stinks.

Adam is not against parties in general, but never threw them at his place before. Precisely speaking in this fucking shithole that he called "his place". Last time he visited such an activity was before he had dropped the college... No, no, no, there is no such word as "college", forget it and get over it. To think about the future and the past is now a usual taboo.

God, what a dreadful hangover.

It not just painfully twists off the joints, like some kind of a high fever, but makes all his insides tremble. His head seems heavy like an iron ball, his tongue is dry and stuck deep inside his mouth. Somewhere the water drips out of tap, but to get there he should take his back off the fridge and his ass off the floor, and he is too lazy to move.

If folks felt such a distress while opening another bottle of alcohol, the world would soon become a society of sobriety. But every time everyone mysteriously forget about aftereffects, those sweet moments of pure hell...

And what the fuck are all these people doing at his place? When did he managed to call them and how drunk was he while doing so? Is it a night or day?

Muffled music is playing, so distant and faint, that he can't define what a track it can be. Among those present he catches a glimpse of Junkie Joe; his fancy neighbour, who had once thrown up at Adam's threshold; the gumshoe guy from private detective agency, who used to gave him work; a pusher Sunny; yet a bunch of local guys - some of them had never ever spoken to him. The fun in this appartment obviously continues long enough for guests doesn't seem to notice the owner's absence.

Bare feet come slapping across the kitchen, and through the half-closed eyelids Adam sees his better to say, his ex-girlfriend. The last of his ex-girlfriends.

She holds his blue cup with a broken handle.

"Li-is?" he calls. But it cames out like "m-mhs?"

Lisa turns around looking displeased, she was going to leave.

"What?"

Not much friendly. Seems, he didn't reconcile with her.

Didn't she say, he was angry then?.. Bitch.

"Give me water..."

"Just two steps, Faulkner, come on, come on. Or rather go take a shower, you stink."

So that was the smell about. Hallelujah, motherfucker.

She's beautiful, with big eyes, dark short hair and small breasts. Adam always thought she wasn't meant for him.

Is there anything that was only his except that cushy photo-job?

Almost like reading his thoughts, an old friend of Lisa appears into the kitchen (they met once and almost had fought), and she gives him a smile. A special one, like they've already screwed. Maybe, they have. What a sick fuck Adam have to be to invite such a guy... or did she do it herself?

He feels dizzy.

Lisa and her fucking friend begin smooching. Adam doesn't want to watch them, but he watches, anyway, like he has no other other choice. He hates Lisa, hates this guy, hates himself for all that mess which comes to be his life, for not having an own place in it.

He ought to stand up. To brace himself and to tell everyone: GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!

"Adam?"

The music dies down. Lawrence alone stands by the kitchen door, and Adam forgets anything he wanted to say, filled with an unearthly tenderness from the fact of doctor's appearance. He has never been so happy to see somebody, at least, one of the guest was worth an invitation.

Larry will save this shitty party and finally give him water! It seems to Adam that he even doesn't need words to be understood.

Good, so good that it hurts: Lawrence bends over to him, touches his cheek, and Adam reaches for his hand with his wholeness, eyes closed.

Another's touch burns his cold skin, and Lawrence... Is Lawrence crying?

Adam mumbles in a slightest protest, he feels uncomfortable. Come on, man, everything is okay...

" I've come to save you," whispers Lawrence right in his ear, choking and sobbing.

And slips a thick plastic bag over Adam's head.