PART 4

When the couple got home, Hunter went to the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of cheap champagne. Nicole always liked to have a bottle just in case there was a spur of the moment cause for celebration. Hunter hadn't gotten rid of anything of hers.

Hunter sat at the small table and opened the bottle. He drank straight out of it and set it down. Nicole, who was seated across from him, was laughing. "You're barbaric."

Hunter shrugged with a smile. "Try it."

"No!" she said with a giggle.

"Come on!" He nudged the bottle towards her.

Nicole sighed, but she was smiling. "Fine." She picked up the bottle and took a small sip from it. She swallowed, then took a deeper drink.

"Told you," Hunter said with a smirk. Nicole rolled her eyes good-naturedly and set the bottle down. Hunter snatched the bottle up and gulped from it. The bubbles danced on his tongue and instantly lifted his spirits. He was eager for the alcohol to kick in and improve his mood even more.

Hunter was suddenly hit with a memory sparked from the champagne, and he chuckled. "Hey," he said with a giggle, "do you remember that time we had a picnic in the park?" He retold the story, and by the middle Nicole was laughing, remembering the rest herself. That story made Nicole tell another one from back when things were so blissfully simple. Hunter's heart would have ached if not for the alcohol that washed away the bitterness of bittersweet memories.

When the bottle was half empty, there was a knock on the door. "Mr. Wells?" a slightly familiar voice asked. Hunter couldn't remember why it was.

"Noooooo," Hunter moaned, then giggled. Nicole laughed along with him. "Iiiii'm Hunter. Mishter Wells ish my daddeeeeh. Go away, mister man!" Hunter and Nicole laughed some more.

"Mr. Wells, please open the door," the voice persisted.

Hunter sighed loudly with a goofy, drunken smile. "Fiiiiine, mister maaaan, Imma comiiiin'." He took another swig from the champagne and clenched the bottle tightly by the neck as he got up from his chair. He immediately tumbled to the floor, and he and Nicole burst into laughter.

"Mr. Wells, are you okay?"

Hunter looked around the floor with heavy lidded eyes. "It'sh okay, mister man, I didn't shh, shhp—spill any'a mah bubbleh." He giggled as he wobbled back to his feet. Nicole giggled with her hands over her mouth as he tried to stand. Hunter used the counter for support and slid to lean against the door. He put his eye to the peephole. "Eeeeh," he cheered, "I know you, mister man! Yoooou work for mah daddeh! Hellooooo!"

"Mr. Wells—"

"Noooooo! Huuuuunteeeer!" He took another gulp of champagne from the side of his mouth so he could still look through the peephole.

"Uh… Hunter… please open the door."

Hunter frowned this time. "Nnnnno. If MAH daddy wanna help me, then HE gonna come HERE, not YOU, mishter man." He pressed his arm lengthwise across the door and laid his head against it to cry. Through his loud weeping, he screamed, "I want my daddy back! I want my mama, and my daddy, and… and I…" The rest of his thoughts were drowned in wails and tears as he turned to put his back to the door and let his legs give out. "And I want Nicole!" he shrieked desperately. "I want her alive again!"

Hunter heard the man leave. It made him feel all the more lonely. At least a stranger had seemed to care about him, even just a little. Now he was gone, and he had nothing but shitty alcohol and his dead fiancée, who he didn't actually have. He started to chug the champagne in one last desperate attempt to make the pain go away. When it didn't, he let out a shrill scream of frustration and beat his head against the door.

He felt Nicole staring at him. He opened his eyes to see her beautiful, pale face next to him, as white as the dress spread around her on the floor where she sat next to him. She never could get a tan, which annoyed her because she said it made her look like a ghost. He almost laughed at the irony.

"You're in so much pain, my darling Hunter," she cooed sadly.

Hunter took one more drink of the champagne to finish it, then threw it at the counter. It shattered into a million brilliant shards. One sharp, glittering piece for each of his tears. "I'm so tired, Nicole," he whispered as he stared absently at the glass. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back. "So tired."

Nicole's dress swished. Hunter opened his eyes to see her standing over him. "Come to bed," she commanded. Hunter used the coat rack by the door to get himself standing, and he staggered to the bed, carefully avoiding the mess he had made. So many messes he seemed to make. He fell into bed, kicked off his shoes, and struggled but succeeded in taking off his shirt and tie until he was in his undershirt, black slacks, and socks.

After a long minute of having his stinging eyes closed, he opened them again in irritation. "I can't fall asleep," he complained.

Nicole was laying on the left side of the bed beside Hunter, silhouetted by the afternoon light streaming through the window. She looked like an angel, all white and gold and too beautiful to belong to this earth. "Take your pills," she replied. "Haven't you been taking them?"

"They don't work," Hunter whined. A nearly full bottle of sleeping pills sat in the drawer of his nightstand. He took the pills for two nights and then gave up when his nightmares got worse.

"Try them," she insisted. "They could help."

Hunter rolled over and forced the drawer open. He didn't want to waste the energy, but he would if Nicole wanted him to. He groaned as he stretched to close his fingers around the orange plastic bottle. It took about two minutes to force the push-and-twist cap off in his current drunken state, and he almost spilled the entire bottle when it did pop off. He poured four pills into his hand instead of the recommended two. Hunter needed to escape life for a little while, and he needed it as soon as possible.

Hunter forced the pills down dry—he didn't have the energy to get up for any kind of drink—and closed his eyes. It had been 12:48 when he shut his eyes; after what felt like an hour, he opened his eyes again and proclaimed, "I still can't sleep." It was after he took four more pills that he saw it was 12:51.

Nicole watched him from where she was laying. To Hunter, she looked sad, but he didn't know why. "What's wrong?" he mumbled tiredly.

She sighed. "Nothing. Go to sleep, Hunter." But the sad look didn't leave her eyes, and her slender fingers played with a silver-blonde lock of her hair like she did when she was deep in thought.

"What's bothering you?" Hunter persisted. He turned onto his side to face her.

Nicole turned her head to stare into Hunter's blurry but concerned eyes with her worried ones. Still absently playing with her hair, she murmured, "I'm just wondering if this is the right thing to do."

Hunter's eyebrows came together in confusion. "What do you mean?" he asked, his eyes searching her face.

A small smile tugged at the corners of Nicole's mouth. "Nothing. Go to sleep, Hunter. You must be so tired."

"But I can't sleep," he whined. "These pills don't work."

"How many have you taken?"

Hunter opened his mouth to reply, but he couldn't remember, so he closed his mouth again and thought back. "Only two, I think," he announced after a minute. "Maybe a few more will help."

"Maybe," Nicole whispered as she gazed at her love with terribly sad eyes. Hunter swallowed a handful of pills and was about to ask what was wrong again, but his eyelids became too heavy to possibly keep open. Before he could finally fall asleep, a loud knock sounded at the door. "Hunter! Open the door!" There was more pounding that made Hunter's head hurt. He wanted to sleep so badly, but he couldn't make himself get up to go to the door or even shout for whoever it was to go away. His body was going pleasantly numb.

With half-closed eyes, Hunter saw the door open and the vague shape of a man come towards him. It was when the man spoke again that Hunter could recognize him. "Hunter," his father cried, "no!"

Hunter could hear his father shouting, but it was background buzzing. The last thing he heard clearly was Nicole's lovely voice close to his ear: "Everything is going to be fine, come Sunday."

Hunter Wells smiled as he died.