(Peter Raffoul - Bad for Me.)
However long the night, the dawn will break, and from the pounding in his head, last night had truly broken something.
"There's no wake up call if you never sleep."
Dick scrubbed a hand down his face and squeezed his eyes shut. He was such a hot mess.
If he hadn't slept, he wouldn't have woken up alone.
Flashes of the way Mac had politely tilted the flask forwards, taking a careful sip from his hands moved through his mind of the few pieces he could remember of last night. He could barely recognise his life today from a year ago. These last few months had turned him into a man he didn't even recognise.
Substance abuse, fighting, Lips with a whiskey chaser.
A strangers arms were home when you had no place to go.
The last few months living with Logan, he'd been doing the best and worst he'd ever been. The truth was bitter like a Xanax, Logan probably wouldn't know what be familiar with the crash and burn of a regular person falling into the bottom of a bottle when wasted had been his parents perpetual state of normal. His friend had asked if he was okay so often he used his trust for target practise with the lies that he was just slightly hungover.
"I've got it under control."
Logan was so used to the face of addiction, it reflected his own blindness to the many masks of trauma his brother had worn. Dick wiped the steam from the mirror, taking in the red rimmed eyes, the sober expression and guzzled back the Bloody Mary he'd poured from his personal mini bar.
Drown the sin. Whiskey and good decisions had an unfortunate language barrier.
Last night he'd been so far down the whiskey river, the journey hadn't even started with a single paddle.
Cheers to making it this far... his fingers trembled around the bottle as he poured himself another glass. Sooner or later.. that was the part that got you. He never gave much thought to parts after his self-destruction was over.
"We probably shouldn't be around each other anymore. I've already crossed that line in my head, in a different place and time, maybe in another life, you and I... thank you for loving him for who he was when I was late to the party." He'd mused on the walk back to his hotel, after confessing to Mac he was glad she was the best thing in Cassidy's life and thanking her for giving his brother something to look forward to before...
Logan carried a lot of crap he didn't have to, he let it weigh him down to the point it could make him immobile. Dick couldn't do that, he couldn't spend the rest of his time buried under his past.
If he didn't stay ahead of it, his life felt like a panic attack. Anxiety wasn't an item he could return at the supermarket.
"My life is a goddamn marathon." he muttered looking around the room for his discarded chinos.
Where was his phone?
He cut a glance across the room at his bedroom door, they were probably outside folded on the chair beside his room with the rest of the clothing which had hit the floor on the way inside to his bed last night as he'd hastily stripped Cindy Mackenzie bare and buried himself inside her for hours. Placing the vodka bottle on the bathroom shelf he cursed the lack of tomato juice in his stash, and reached for the small orange juice.
Screwdriver it is.
"We can't live with our hearts in exile."
Dick swallowed down the liquid medicine and glanced at his shower, there was an empty whiskey bottle sitting beside the glass door which he remembered clearly only getting from one of his older Fraternity brothers two days ago which had been been full last night before he his Sexile study session.
No wonder he'd had trouble remembering anything, he'd worn her out then gotten himself black out drunk.
He vaguely recalled tossing his room key over the boardwalk when she'd tried to convince him to slow down and take it easy, before he'd promptly steered her onto the beach towards a bonfire party after hitting up small a bodega on the corner for a six pack of beers and more tequila.
A little more truth spilling out with every shot.
Mac had consumed half the tequila with him once he brought up Cassidy again, because the axe forgets but the tree remembers. Perhaps he should have felt guilty, exploiting her ordeal at the hands of his younger sibling, but in that moment he hadn't wanted to be alone, he'd been jealous when she got that brief call from Bronson and the urge to pull her deep into the dark at the bottom of the cups urged him forwards.
Dick had not expected her to stay, to coax him away from the fight some cousin of his ex-something Betina Marone wanted to start with him. One of the few benefits of College life, aside from the illusions of a fresh start and four years break from his mother pressuring him about getting a job, had been less risk of the Cassidy backlash now that the news was out about the bus crash. It was fake platitudes from plastic 09ers assuring him "he'd get through this." smiling all around him while drawing knives, or if he sought his entertainment elsewhere he ran the risk of blue-collar vigilantes or PCHers pissed that he'd only invited his 09er buddies into the Limo as Cassidy had planned that day, his brother had calculated his reaction to that dead rat so well.
Just another chess piece Cassidy had moved around.
Logan was going to have so many questions, from his reaction earlier last nights pussy was well and truly out of the bag. Dick would have to change storage lockers for his surfboards, Veronica was not going to take this well.
Mars Mano a Casablancas Mano.
Absolution didn't mean much when you were rich enough to buy our own church then burn it down for the insurance money you'd never need.
Be selective with your battles, because sometimes your peace was more valuable than being right.
Locking Horns with Veronica was likely when screwing this particular friend was the one who had once tipsily declared she had a small crush on him.
The version of villian Veronica had built up of him in her head was not his responsibility.
He raked a hand through his bed hair, pacing and made a mental note he was due to his stylist, though Mac had seemed to enjoy threading her fingers through it last night.
Fuck he'd loved that...
The pieces of last now were now fully pornographic in his head. The penthouse room door closed and he sighed in relief, Logan was headed out to meet Veronica after class, the living space would be free from interrogations. No Good Logan Cop, Bad Veronica Cop today.
His skipping lectures plan involved Kleenex and Chocolate Liquers.
Almost every surface of his room showed the signs of where they'd avoided disturbing the ghost looming over his bed. He might have given into the devils on his shoulders last night but everything about his hands on her body had been heavenly. She'd kissed him with such care and as his dirty hands guided her into whatever position moved with the moment, collapsing into the crook of her neck when they were spent and she'd held him.
She'd certainly run from his bed as if her ass was gonna burn though...
Retrieving his clothes he pulled out his phone and rolled his eyes when it didn't immediately power on, tossing it onto the wireless charging pad beside his bed, he rifled through his pockets for clues of last night. The temporary room key had the housekeeping girl Jackie's signature on the back, so that's why he'd been sure he'd seen her last night.
His cell lit up, vibrating as several notifications came through. Two messages from Gia, thanking him for the gift basket he'd sent yesterday, a text from Anders and a few Tinder matches, three missed calls from Chip, and an email from his morning class, updating him about the assignment due friday. He lay back onto his bed and tried to ignore the linger scent that made his nuts ache.
Dick would have to face his roommates girlfriend, Mac and her Take Me eyes sooner or later.
He was only guilty of a damn good time.