3: Hallucination
Midnight had long passed, morning hadn't yet deigned the Earth with its presence, and everything was lethargic bordering on comatose. The traffic, the stars, the lights, the closing strip club, everything had slowed to a crawl. Sarah stood idly outside of the employee entrance of the Glass Bauble, waiting for Hoggle to finish cleaning up so she could give him a lift home.
The dancers, so glamorous on stage, lost a good portion of their sex appeal as they trickled out the door, giving her a nod or a wave as they passed by. Most ignored her. Every single one looked exhausted. The bags under their eyes seemed almost as heavy as the ones that they carried on their shoulders. But soon the dancers too disappeared.
Sarah's phone vibrated once, twice, and she gave it a glance.
From Hoggle: 8 more mins. Boss is a slave drive
The woman sighed and slipped the phone back into her purse, crossing her arms and leaning against the door frame. She knew very well how this would go. Five minutes had turned into eight, eight into ten, ten into twenty, and then Hoggle would end up catching a ride with someone else because she wasn't going to be stuck out here all night, dammit.
But before Sarah could proceed to fully embrace her sulking, the employee door flew open.
"Hoggle! You're out already!" said Sarah, stepping forward towards the door and was greeted by a tall form that most definitely wasn't Hoggle.
"'m not Hogbrain," slurred the man, leaning forward at an angle that no sober person could ever accomplish.
"Jareth!" groaned Sarah, staggering under the full weight of the dancer.
"Don't 'member telling you my name," said Jareth, "Jessica. No. Jennifer? No..."
Sarah sighed, sitting the drunk man down. Gone was the immaculate silvery mullet and with it, the animalistic allure the man had radiated on stage. He looked so... mundane. Well, mundane wouldn't be the right word. He was still wearing the same frilly shirt he had earlier, but the disturbingly tight pants had been replaced with a worn pair of jeans. His make up was smeared, but still distinct. High eyebrows and glittering hooded lids that seemed a good deal puffier than they had before. Cheekbones sharp enough to cut bread (or a steak) were shimmered with smears of blush. His feet were bare, in one hand he clutched a half-empty bottle of vodka.
"You're a mess."
"Didn't ask for your opinion. Don't need it. I'm the Goblin King!"
Sarah rolled her eyes, "You're drunk."
"'m not."
"Are too."
"'m not."
"How many fingers am I holding up?"
"Two! I'm drunk, not blind!"
"So, you are drunk!" said Sarah triumphantly, putting down one finger.
"Fuck," Jareth yelled, voice echoing through the small parking lot.
"Quiet down," hissed Sarah swatting at the dancer's arm.
"Make me," said Jareth, patting her on the cheek and taking a long drink from his bottle.
"Ok, you've definitely had enough," said Sarah grabbing at the bottle.
"No!" whined the man, moving his hand out of reach, "'m drowning my sorrows!"
"What sorrows?! Your pants weren't tight enough?"
"How did you know?" came the bitterly sarcastic answer, "Don't trifle with me! I'm tired, pissed, pissed off, nauseous, and am going home to an empty and cold apartment, so let me be!"
"Oh, you're not going anywhere in that state," said Sarah, "Now hand me that bottle."
"No," said Jareth.
Sarah paused.
"Alright, Goblin King. Either we do this the nice way or the hard way."
"And what, pray tell, is the nice way?"
"We play a game-"
"Fantastic. A game. What's next, you stick a pacifier in my mouth?!"
Sarah opened her mouth to say something rude but didn't have time to, because that's when Jareth threw up.
"Ugh! Disgusting!"
"Well, I'm not nauseous anymore," shrugged Jareth and took a swig.
Not for the first time in her night, Sarah stared at the man and started rethinking her life choices.
"Alright, up you go," she said, finally managing to get ahold of the bottle and tossing it across the lot, "We're getting you home. Let's go get you a taxi."
"Don't have any money," mumbled Jareth, burying his head in the crook of Sarah's neck.
"You are... a very affectionate man," said Sarah, tilting his head away, "Who has at least ten dollars."
"The little shit took it," he said.
"Took your money?"
"Took my entire bag and LEFT. For the entire weekend! That's just not fair, Jay. It's simply not fair. "
"Who left?" said Sarah, slowly but surely dragging the man around the puddle of vomit and down the steps.
"The... goblin... little... cousin? Cousin. That's the word. My things are in his car. And he left. The gremlin left town with my shit. He's barely old enough to drive! "
"I can pay for your taxi, pretty boy. Where do you live?"
"In a building. On a floor. In a city. Definitely under the sky."
"You don't remember your address."
"That was my second bottle of vodka, what do you expect?"
"We're halfway across the lot, and you couldn't have told me that before?!"
"I don't want your help! I don't even know you!"
"Yeah, you're a lot better acquainted with that vodka bottle!"
"I am. Very well acquainted. We're bosom companions. Friends. All that wonderful fluff that I don't have!"
Sarah dumped Jareth onto the ground, "Sit. Stay. Good boy."
Jareth quietly grumbled to himself, but sat there on the hard concrete, more out of boneless exhaustion that obedience.
Once satisfied that he wasn't going to move, Sarah pulled out her phone and dialed Hoggle.
"Hoggle?"
"Sarah!"
"Sarah!?" yelped Jareth, but got glared into silence.
"Who is that?"
"That is your friend, Jareth," said Sarah with exaggerated cheer.
Over the line, Hoggle groaned, "First off, he's not my friend. Second off, he's pissed, isn't he?"
"Yes, he's pissed. Two bottles? Two bottles, Hoggle?" Sarah pinched the bridge of his nose.
"I told you, we don't carry alcohol-"
"Bullshit."
Silence. A heavy sigh. Then, "The dancers were having a little get together after the end of the show. They brought some stuff in, had some fun. One of them was supposed to be his ride, but he left. They're related, I think. Distantly."
"I know. What I meant to ask is, what do I do with this glitter-puff?"
"I object to that description!" Jareth wailed, sprawled across the concrete.
"I don't know. Leave him there. No one's going to miss him. He'll sleep it off, catch a bus tomorrow."
"But what if..." Sarah glanced down at the man on the ground and lowered her voice, "What if he gets mugged? Or beat up? Or freeze? It's cold out here! He's barefoot. Aren't you at all worried?"
A pause, "No. Why are you?"
"I don't know, I can't just leave him here!"
"Your problem."
"Fine, then you can walk home. I'm taking him over to my place."
"Be sure to use protection."
"Bye, Hoggle."
Sarah put her phone away and crossed her arms, looking down at the dancer slouching at her feet. Jareth, in turn, looked up at her, eyes blank, face expressionless.
"Am I going to get laid?" he slurred mournfully.
"Not tonight," Sarah said, dragging the man to his feet, "You're going to get a ride to my apartment, some sleep, and then a ride to wherever it is you live."
"Well, shit."
"Life just isn't fair, is it?"
"Not in the slightest."
xxx
The ride back to the apartment elapsed in everything but silence.
"If you throw up in my car," Sarah warned as she shoved Jareth into the front seat and buckled him up, "I'm dumping you on the side of the road."
"My hero," groaned Jareth, throwing his head back against the headrest and yelping as the two made contact.
"Shut up."
"Ooh, the heroine is out of witty remarks! The repartee is over!"
"Shove it, Goblin King."
Jareth sniffed, "Maybe I will."
"Will you?"
"I will."
"Good."
"Good."
There were a couple of moments of blissful silence as Sarah pulled out of the almost empty lot. And then Jareth started singing. It was quiet at first, a few quietly hummed lines of a smooth melody which picked up and grew louder and louder, a jumble of halves of words and random sounds.
"That's pretty," said Sarah conversationally.
Jareth threw her a sidelong glance, opened his mouth, and started belting out lyrics in a screechy, off-pitch, voice, "NO ONE CAN BLAME YOU! FOR WALKING AWAY!"
"Jesus Christ!" yelled Sarah, almost crashing into the car in front of them.
"No, it's me, Jareth."
"Just-"
"TOO MUCH REJECTION, NU-UH! NO LOVE INJECTION..."
xxx
"Two steps to the left... A little bit further..." coaxed Sarah, "There we go."
Sarah maneuvered her arms around the drowsy man clinging to her neck, unlocked the door, and practically fell inside.
"Well, this is the place," she said, giving it a bleak look, "Let's get you to the couch."
The apartment was small, but cozy. Sarah dragged Jareth across the carpet to plop him down on a couch with a print reminiscent of grandma's curtains. The man almost fell over as the passed the desk, but somehow managed to stay upright until Sarah dumped him on the couch.
"'s soft," murmured the man, burying his face in an armrest.
"Don't fall asleep," called Sarah as she walked over towards the kitchen, returning a couple of moments later with a full glass of water.
"Drink," she ordered.
"Women are so fickle and changeable," complained Jareth, taking the glass, "One moment it's 'stop drinking!' The next moment it's 'drink!'"
"Jareth."
"Yes, Jessica?"
"That's water."
"Oh."
Jareth drank.
Later, just as Sarah was turning off the lights, Jareth rolled around to face her.
"Sarah?"
"Yes?"
"Thank you."
"Thank me in the morning, Goblin King."