Hello! Just a disclaimer: I am a pre-law student in the Philippines so not everything in this chapter will be accurate with NY state law but I did do a little research to make sure that the court scene, legal jargons, and the dialogues are believable and realistic enough.
Trigger Warnings: Drug and Alcohol Abuse, Car Accident
Hardwood flooring: meant for structural and aesthetic purposes, NOT for sleeping. Harvey realizes that straight away as he raises a hand to shield his eyes from the sun who so rudely woke him from his slumber. He scans the room as he yawns, he can't believe he was too drunk to walk over to his bed. It's not the first time he has fallen asleep somewhere in his condo that isn't his bedroom, but he swears that all the other times were on the couch.
He groans as he sits up, his hands massaging his lower back. He lets out another groan when he starts stretching, taking a mental note to never fall asleep on the floor again especially in his suits. He takes a second to roll his left sleeve up to check his watch.
7:37 am.
"Shit." He says as he gets on his feet right away. He has an arraignment at 8 am with Judge Grant presiding who isn't very fond of him and a client who has their head stuck so far up their ass. He runs to his bathroom and gargles with mouthwash, hoping that it'll flush away all the nasty traces of alcohol in his breath. Shortly after, he picks the suit jacket up from the kitchen floor, he does not have time to shower or change because he cannot afford to be late to this arraignment.
The shitty part is, he did not get there in time.
8:12 am. Twelve minutes late.
Harvey is rushing through the hallways, lightly shoving a couple people out of his way until he finally reaches the doors of the courtroom. He pushes them open, only to be greeted by a janitor mopping the floor. Panting, he asks him "W-where is everybody?"
"You the no-show lawyer?"
Harvey furrows his brows, "No-show? I'm only twelve minutes late." He double checks his watch to confirm.
"Still twelve minutes too late. Your client is down the hall." He points in the direction they're in and gets back to doing his business.
Harvey mentally curses then thanks the old man. He makes his way down the hall and right at the end of it stands Jared Weinburg, his asshat of a client. Jared's right hand is on his hip while the other is rubbing his jaw.
"Jared!" Harvey yells, his client immediately turns around then scowls.
"Look who finally decided to show up."
"I-I got stuck in traffic, I'm so sorry, I'm gonna go talk to the judge and see if we can get him to…"
Jared scoffs, "What for? He already charged you with failure to appear."
Harvey waves that comment off like it's nothing. "That's a misdemeanor not a felony, he can sanction me for all I care."
"But I care, Harvey." Jared interrupts, "I'm a very busy man and now my entire calendar has to undergo a complete revision because my lawyer was a no-show and my arraignment got rescheduled." He raises his voice, "Why do I have to pay for your incompetence…"
Harvey raises his voice back, "We wouldn't even be here if you just pushed through with the settlement we talked about! You are being charged with unfair labor practices, Jared, you." He takes a step closer, making sure that Jared understands every single word he is about to say next. "You say you're a busy man? Guess what? I'm a busy man too. Busy defending nuthead capitalists like you. And I've won cases bigger than this so do yourself a favor and never question my competence again or you can find yourself another lawyer."
Harvey gives him one glaring stare then walks away, Jared swallows then proceeds to call his assistant, informing her of the new schedule. He himself knows he can never find a better lawyer than Harvey Specter.
Harvey knocks on the Judge's chambers, he twists the knob and slowly opens the door after he hears him say "Come in."
"Well well, Mr. Specter. How nice of you to finally show up." Judge Grant smiles sarcastically.
"You're honor, I apologize, I got stuck in traffic and I was only twelve minutes late."
"I do not tolerate tardiness in my courtroom, Mr. Specter. You are charged with failure to appear and are sanctioned to pay a fine of $5,000."
Harvey sighs, too tired and hungover to argue. "I understand that, your honor. Thank you for your time. I will show up next week."
Just as Harvey is about to turn away, Judge Grant raises his hand, signaling him that he isn't finished yet. "Mr. Specter, I have not presided over many of your cases but I am well aware of your reputation enough to know that what happened today is very unlike you."
Harvey sucks on his teeth then nods slowly, it is unlike him, even he knows that. But everyone has noticed that he has changed over the past couple of months. His sublime track record is now tarnished with a couple of losses, he is no longer the undefeated champion he once was.
"I look forward to seeing you next week, Harvey. That would be all."
"Thank you, your honor." Harvey closes the door carefully then lets out a deep breath that he had been holding in.
He needs coffee. And maybe a bagel as well.
.
Harvey arrives at the firm an hour later. He had breakfast at a coffee shop and is now ready to take on the rest of the day. His mood is significantly better than how he started the morning with. He is caffeinated, his stomach is full, nothing can ruin his good mood.
"Harvey!"
Unless, of course, you have a colleague like Louis Litt.
Harvey rolls his eyes when Louis shows up right beside him. "You were sanctioned by the court for failure to appear?"
"Everything's fine, Louis, I paid the fine." Harvey smiles at him. "You get it? Fine-fine?" He chuckles.
"Harvey, this is serious. A minor offense like that can ruin the firm's reputation, and yours!"
"Louis, it's not your job to be worried about my reputation."
"It became my job when you stopped. What about Robert?"
"What about Robert?"
"Harvey!" Louis says and they both stopped walking. Harvey licks his lips then raises his brow in annoyance. "What?"
"It's not just your reputation or the firm's or what our managing partner has to say that I'm worried about. I'm worried about you." The man's eyes are filled with concern. "You're my friend and I care about you. You've been acting off since…"
"Don't say it." Harvey's tone changes.
"I'm just saying…"
His voice dropping an octave lower, "Don't. Say. Her. Name."
Louis swallows, "I wasn't going to. But I thought that you'd be able to finally talk about it after 8 months, I guess I was wrong. Sorry to bother you."
Louis walks away without saying another word, he has known Harvey too long, he knows the possible consequences of pushing this unstable man's buttons. It will be anything but pretty.
.
It's three hours later, Harvey is riding the elevator all the way down to the ground floor. His right hand is twitching slightly and cold sweat is dripping from his forehead to his temples and down the side of his neck despite the elevator's air conditioning. He needs his fix and he needs it now.
He dashes out of the lift as soon as the doors open, he grabs the handkerchief in his pocket and pats himself dry. He exits the building and crosses the street to the coffee cart guy. He impatiently waits for the customers in front of him to leave before slipping the man a couple hundred dollars, looking both left and right to make sure that he doesn't see anyone who may know him.
"Bad day?" The coffee cart guy asks.
"Bad day, bad life, potato potato." Harvey replies.
"Feel you, man." The man says as he places a small tube full of white powder into a paper bag and hands it to Harvey. "Here you go."
"Thanks." He quickly makes his way back into the elevator, fifty storeys up, and into the men's room. He pushes each stall door open to make sure the entire bathroom is unoccupied. He then goes back to the main door and locks it. He walks over to the counter, takes the tube out of the bag, flattens the bag on the counter, and pours a significant amount of the powder in a straight line.
He reaches for his wallet, grabs a random credit card, and uses it to straighten the line even more. He then grabs one of the brochures that was given to him in the street earlier this morning and rolls it up into a tube. He bends down, brings the tube to his nose, and starts snorting his much anticipated line of cocaine into his nose.
He lets out a satisfied sigh, the drug doesn't work immediately, but it does get to work faster than the others. He looks at himself in the mirror to make sure that he doesn't have any visible residues of coke around his nostrils. He takes whatever is left on the bag on his forefinger and starts rubbing it on his teeth and gums, making sure he doesn't waste any of this expensive vice.
He cleans up after himself by throwing the bag in the trash, keeping the half-full tube in the inner pocket of his suit jacket, and wipes the counter with a damp tissue.
He breathes deep, it's starting to get to him. But then he starts looking at his reflection more closely. His always-perfectly-coiffed hair is all over the place, he hasn't shaved in almost a week, his suit jacket has visible lines and folds.
He decides to splash his face with a little bit of water to make him look less tired. He combs his wet fingers through his hair hoping it's enough to tame it a little bit. Once he's satisfied with how he looks, he makes his way to the door, unlocks it, and heads to his office with a spring in his step.
He pours himself half a glass of scotch, finishing the whole thing in four big gulps.
"Whoa there."
Startled, Harvey puts the glass down, a trail of alcohol dropping from the side of his mouth, he quickly wipes it off using the back of his hand. "Robert, I didn't see you there."
"How was court today?"
"Well if you must know…"
"I must and I already do. I just received the transcript of your arraignment and found a problem." Robert says as he holds up a white folder.
"And the problem is?" Harvey asks cockily.
Robert slams the folder on his desk. "You weren't there."
"Robert, I was twelve minutes late, New York traffic can be…"
"Enough!" Robert yells then shakes his head in disbelief. "Three consecutive losses and now a no-show? What the hell has gotten into you, Harvey?"
Harvey licks his lips then snorts. "You think this is funny?" His boss asks aggressively.
"In fact I do." Harvey nods, "Tell me, Robert, how many cases have you lost in your 80 years of practice? How many times have you been sanctioned by a judge? How many…"
"It's not the same." Robert asserts, "You've lost three consecutive cases within the last six months. If this were any other law firm or if you were any other D-list lawyer, I wouldn't bat an eye but this isn't any other law firm and you aren't a D-list lawyer. And you look like shit, Harvey, why the hell are you still wearing the same suit you wore yesterday?"
"There's a compliment hidden somewhere there." Harvey jokes.
"Harvey, you are not performing the way you used to. You are slipping and it's costing us."
Harvey clenches his jaw, he has heard this from a couple of people but never from a boss and never this directly. He clicks his tongue then turns around to face the NYC skyline.
"Harvey, look at me when I'm speaking to you."
"No." Harvey replies not a second later, "I've always been the bigshot New York lawyer. I make more money for this firm than any other partner. I make my opposing counsel pee themselves when they see my name on the court documents. I make every client's problem disappear. I… am fucking good at what I do, Robert." He pauses, his voice growing softer, "But what if I'm not that person anymore? What if I turn out to be a mere mortal like everyone else and not the god you all think I am?"
Robert stands silent. Harvey turns back to him, "Do a couple mistakes erase every other thing I've accomplished for myself? For this firm? For…"
"Harvey…" Robert looks at him in horror, his mouth agape and his breath hitched.
"What?" Harvey asks, clueless.
"You're bleeding." Robert mumbles, slowly pointing to his nose.
Harvey brings a finger to his right nostril and feels something wet. He pulls his hand away and sees blood on his fingers. Shocked and embarrassed, Harvey freezes for a second.
"Somebody call for help!" Robert yells.
"No!" Harvey snaps out of it then grabs his handkerchief and brings it to his nose, "This happens all the time. I'm fine." He lies.
"Are you sure?" Robert asks, concerned.
"I'm sure." Harvey sits on his chair and tilts his head up.
"Do you have medication for that?"
"Robert, I'll be fine. Please," He breathes heavily, "Leave me alone."
Robert hesitates but takes his word for it. He nods then slowly sees himself out of the office en route to his own. Harvey grabs the mirror in one of his drawers and starts cleaning himself up. This day has been nothing but shitty so he knows what he has to do.
He has to keep drinking. Somehow, alcohol flushes the rest of the world away.
.
It's midnight, Harvey should be home by now but decided against it. He's nodding his head to a record playing. He doesn't even recall which album he picked out, he doesn't even recognize the voice of the musician, that's how wasted he is. He sent Ray home early tonight, promising his loyal driver that he won't be doing anything reckless tonight and that he can drive himself home.
Harvey…
Her voice powers through the music again. He opens his eyes and drops his glass to the ground. He looks around, trying to figure out where it's coming from but she doesn't call him again. Maybe it's just another hallucination.
"You're not here." He says lazily. He knows it's stupid, talking to someone who isn't physically present.
Or maybe she is.
He sits straighter, entertaining the idea that his alcohol-induced brain just gave him. She's here, she has to be, he can feel it. Maybe not in the building but somewhere in the city. She wouldn't be calling out to him if she were 3,000 miles away. He gets up and drunkenly finds the elevators, his world is spinning but it doesn't matter. Donna's calling out his name, he must follow her voice.
He hits the "B" button on the elevator and leans his head against the wall. A couple minutes later when the elevator bell dings, he tries his best to look for his car. He holds the key and presses the unlock button repeatedly until he eventually finds his Lexus flashing in the distance.
Harvey…
"I'm...c-coming." He slurs. The world around him is spinning, he's walking in zig zags trying to get to his car. What he's about to do is dangerous but he'll do anything, drive everywhere, if it means seeing her again, even if it's just her ghost.
He gets inside, puts his seatbelt on and starts driving off.
He gets onto the avenue. He doesn't even know where he's going, he just wants to find Donna, wherever he thinks she may be. He slaps himself twice to fight the urge to sleep. He shakes his head vigorously and groans, he is losing this battle, he has had too much to drink.
Harvey's rocking back and forth in his seat. He can barely keep his eyes on the road, his eyes are getting heavier by the second, his head starts falling to the side as his body gives in and loses consciousness.
Harvey!
His hands slip off the steering wheel, the Lexus drives off the road, onto the sidewalk and smashes into an electrical post, his head meets the airbag and everything goes black.
Hello, reader! Thanks again for tuning into this week's update :) I would love to hear your thoughts about this one. As always, constructive criticism is welcome and appreciated. We're finally seeing Donna next week so until then, cheers!