Parker thought back of her last telephone call from Jarod a week ago. What possessed her to say those cruel things to him. Afterall, she waited what seemed like a million years to hear from him.
Flashback
"Are you lonesome tonight?"
"Yes."
"What have you been up to, Parker?"
"Where are you?"
"Excuse me?"
"I said where are you? It's been two weeks since..."
"Just been busy, that's all. Did you miss me?"
"I don't like games, Jarod."
"You had a bad day at the office?"
"You think you can just pick up the phone and call me at anytime of the night just to have a polite conversation?"
"Two weeks is a long time not to hear your voice, Parker. Absence makes the heart grow fonder."
"What heart?"
"Forget I called. It was wrong of me to do so."
"Jarod, wait!"
"Goodbye, Parker."
End of Flashback
Just going through the motions of existing, she dragged herself in and out of bed since she last spoke to him. Parker was out of her bottles of vodka and soda and decided to go out.
Jarod sat at the local bar drinking what would be his fourth drink. "Hit me, baby, one more time." He tells the waitress as he holds up his empty glass upside down wanting a refill of Miss Parker's favorite booze. "Here's to you, Parker." He raises his glass into the air, then gulps it down waiting for the liquid to run down inside of him to give him a feeling of numbness before going through the process of asking for another drink.
He was a pretender, a genius who can become whom ever he wants to be. All he's ever wanted was to be normal. Not some sort of lab speciman.
She watches him from afar, across the other end of the room. There were no more calls, no more Jarod. It worried her for he had become a part of her everyday life.
Only he finally gave up. He didn't care if he was caught, he didn't care about anything. It frightened Parker to see him in that sort of demeanor. He was the one who always cautioned her about her drinking. But, there he was, drinking his troubles away.
Parker approached him cautiously, tapping him on the shoulder. He turned slowly.
"Miss Parker," he slurred, he patted the chair next to him. "Come, sit. A toast to The Centre." He held up his glass. "Cheers. To daddy and company, Angel. See your genius now? This is what I've become." He turned and yelled from across the room to get the waitress' attention. "Hit me, baby, one more time."
"For pete's sake, Jarod. What's gotten into you?"
"Ma'am," the bartendar tells Parker, "no more drinks for your friend. Please take him home. He's in no shape to drive."