Drink Till I Die

Sharon Needles

Howince

Hurt/Comfort / Angst

Once Vince's slim chance at fame was ruined, he turned to the bottle - and he never stopped. Howard has tried all he could to save his friend, but nothing seems to work.

Vince cheered with the crowd as they danced drunkenly to some song from Robots in Disguise. He thought. He'd heard of them before, and he kind of liked their songs, but he couldn't understand it. Maybe it was one of the ones in French.

Oh, no, it just said "up". But a lot of French words end in "up", don't they? He forgot most things when he drank. He knew his last name meant "black". Or was it "blue"? Or something else? It was black. Or at least he thought it was black.

He was too drunk to form a coherent memory. He was just dancing and making out with any one in arms length, that would let him. Not many people did.

Usually the only person who would let him was Russell, who was usually more trashed than he was. The drunk women who noticed cheered and tried to make them do it again, which they usually did.

At six, Vince finally made his way back to the Nabootique, and crawled to his room.

When he woke, the smell was the first thing that hit him. He sat up, almost passing out from the pain. He didn't even realize he was in the bathroom until he saw the vomit-covered toilet.

Smelling it in full, he was sick again, which in turn, made his head pound worse.

He mustered the strength to stand up, and, like always, there was a cup and a note waiting for him.

"Naboo says this is the last time Vince! -Love Howard"

Vince chugged the hangover potion in one.

"It was the last time last month," said Vince to no one in particular.

He already felt better, so he decided to hop in the shower. He cleansed himself thoroughly, he never knew who he would end up with tonight, and got out. He did his hair for three hours, and emerged, like usual, at about an hour before sunset.

"Hello Vince."

Vince nodded, not paying attention to Howard, but to the mini-fridge. he figured he would get a head start. Like always.

"Hey Howard."

"Vince, again? Does that hangover cure block out all memory?"

"No, the alcohol does."

"Vince, I'm serious. You've been like this for as long as I can remember! Do you want to live your life like this?"

Vince growled and swung angrily toward Howard. "You think i want another 'last night'? That's a big fucking no my friend! I don't like living like this! When I wake up in the morning, I can just see the cycle. I can smell the booze already. I can smell the sweat off the bodies, I can smell the sick on the floor, I can smell the blood of the people who've gotten in fights. It's horrid!"

"Then why don't you quit?"

"I've never been a quitter!"

"Because you don't know when to quit, Vince. Put the bottle down, that's a start."

"Fuck off."

"Vince!"

"Howard," he mocked. "Fuck, you don't even know what it's like. Hangovers have just become regular mornings, to me. You'd be a fucking wreck if you dealt with this shit."

"Why do you even drink?"

"Because I didn't get a fucking record deal!"

"Why is that so important, Vince?"

"It's the only thing I had to look forward too. But I guess that's His plan, huh? Well fuck you all." Vince stormed out, leaving Howard speechless.

Vince could barley even understand Howard when he showed up to take Vince home. "Vincent Noir, we're leaving!"

"Mummy! Don't make me go! Get your knickers out of your fucking cunt and live a bit Howard! Come on! See that guy, over there? Best fucking hand job. E- Ever."

"Vince! Get in the cab!"

"Fuck you!" He turned around, and walked away. "Howard!" Before Howard could blink, Vince had stumbled back to him. "I'm so sorry. I love you. Don't ever let me leave."

"Vince! In the cab!"

"Fuck off old man!" Vince picked a cigarette of the ground, and tried to smoke it. "Fuck, it's broken." He threw it behind him.

"Wait until Naboo finds out about this, Vince!"

"Go ahead! Talk all you fucking want! I'm the talk of the mother-fucking town anyway! Go-on! Call him! One more person talking about Vince Noir!" He stumbled into the arms of a bouncer. "Hey, get the fuck off me!"

He stumbled off into the night, trying to find the Nabootique.

When he finally found it, he went straight to the bathroom. "Fucking prick. I'll show Howard." Vince, out of his mind, took his razor blade, and slashed his stomach. Waiting for an appropriate pool of blood to form, he dipped his finger in it, and wrote of the mirror:

"D.U.I. I'm going to drink 'till I die."

"Fuck off, Howard." Vince played with the blood pooling on the white floor, and finally fell into a dreamless sleep.