Surviving on Your Own

Worst Days

Covering for Noah has turned into a daily thing. He's got more guys to lift stuff. We don't need new shit everyday, but Noah's got more clients, so he's building a supply. I don't really mind covering for him. Apparently he's been at this for a long time, way before he included me.

Maybe I should mind, but I practically live with him and Landi now. They have a very strange relationship. He lets her have sex with me. I didn't ask to, she just kinda started sucking him off right next to me, and then she was doing it to the both of us. She said were lucky we don't get "dopedick". I guess some guys can't get it up when they're high. For me, it's the most arousing feeling in the world. I shot up here at work an hour ago. I know it's dumb, but seriously, who's going to notice?

Anyways, the sex with Landi is interesting...I told her I was sure of being gay, but she didn't care. She's always the one to initiate, and I never say no.

Good, they're done. I erase the footage of some of Noah's guys snagging more product and cover my tracks. Noah's not in today, I don't know why.

Someone opens my office door, fuck I forgot to lock it. I look up, and I'm not happy with who I see.

"Heero," he says.

"Lightening Count," I reply.

He rolls his eyes at me. "I don't go by that anymore."

"Oh, I'm sorry. Is it Agent Wind? Millardo Peacecraft? Or is it Zechs Marquise?" I feign an apology.

He crosses his arms and glares at me. "When did you get such a snarky attitude?"

I shrug and make a sound that sounds like "I dunno".

He growls, "What the hell is the matter with you?"

"Nothing," I snap back. "Get the fuck out of my office!"

"My sister would appreciate a call from you. God knows why," he turns and leaves. Er, I fucking hate him.

I do owe Relena a call. I locked my office door, snort a fat bump and call her...

..."Heero, I have to go," Relena says. What the fuck? How long have we been on video chat? What did I say? Did I blackout though the whole conversation? Shit, this isn't good, she looks concerned.

"Alright Relena, take care," I end the call. The time of the call flashes 21:56. I freaking talked to her for twenty minutes and can't remember a damn thing! This is bad...

I focus, as much as possible, on work for the rest of the day.

Noah and Landi are waiting for me in the parking garage.

"Hop in," Noah smiles at me. I smile back and climb into the back seat.

"We're going to a party! Oh, don't look like that Hee-kun, we know it's a work night, we won't go that hard," Landi bounces in the passenger seat.

I sigh, "I guess it would be nice. Had a shit day today."

"Aw, why?" She asks, giving me puppy dog eyes.

I roll my eye and mutter "Relena" without even thinking.

Landi's eyes bug out. "You mean the Vice Foreign Minister?! What the hell she want with you?"

I try to shrug her off, but she persists. I lean in a little and whisper loudly, "I'm a former Gundam pilot."

"Pft! Oh really? Then which one were you?" She thinks I'm joking.

"Pilot zero one," I say with a smirk.

She rolls her eyes at me. "Okay, mister savior of the world, whatever you say." I chuckle a little as she turns to face forward, and I catch Noah's green eyes in the rear view mirror. He looks shocked and a little scared. He believes me. I pull my old blank gaze on, and lift my chin, as if to dare him to say anything.

He doesn't.

We arrive at a warehouse in a rundown part of town. Sweet, I like warehouse parties. Landi goes in ahead of us, and Noah pulls me off to the side. He eyes me carefully before speaking. "You know how I've got a bunch of shit stashed?"

"Yeah."

"Well, I have this awesome idea of how to sell it all over a few days and make a lotta doe," he says excitedly. "We go to L2 and sell it. Drugs there go for twice as much as they do here. We could take a coupla days off and fly there. Only problem is getting the shit through customs."

I roll my eyes at him. "I don't sell, Noah."

"Yeah, yeah, I know that. You and Landi just go with me, and I'll do all the pushin," he placate.

Mulling it over in my head, it doesn't sound so bad. I've never taken a day off yet. "I can get us past security and customs," I tell him.

Noah's eyes light up. "Seriously? How?"

"I've got my own shuttle in a private terminal."

"How'd you manage that?" He asks. I give him a look that tells him not to ask again, or expect an answer. "Right, right, you're a...whatever," he dismisses, flipping his hand. "So lets go in two days, yeah?"

I nod in agreement. Noah pats me on the back with a wide grin as we enter the warehouse. There's a good amount of people here already. A DJ has already set up and started playing his tunes. Looking around, I notice most of the people here are kids my age and younger.

I stick with Noah for while as he sells all kinds of shit to these kids. We share a couple of joints while making rounds before I notice something different. The walls are melting in swirls, and the colorful glow in the dark necklaces and bracelets these kids are wearing are tainting their skins and changing color. I'm also leaning heavily against Noah, whose got his arm wrapped around my shoulders to help me balance.

"I'm hallucinating," I slur into Noah's ear.

He smiles at me. His smile twists and his teeth glow way too bright. "I know, me too. It's the ketamine!"

My head feels heavy. "Keta-wha?"

"Special K my friend. Don't worry, I won't last more than an hour," he assures.

It suddenly feels really hot in here. My breaths come out as shallow pants, and I can feel my blood pulsing through me in tune with the music. I keep swallowing as saliva seems to be constantly building up in my mouth. I'm not sure if I like this.

Noah whistles loudly, like he's calling someone over. I guess he did because Landi came bouncing out of no where.

"Here take 'im, and help him out. I don't think he's diggin the K!" He yells so she can hear him over the drum and bass.

Her brow furrows and a frown graces her pale face. "What you give him that shit for?" She fumes. Landi takes me by both hands and leads me through the throngs of dancing, sweaty teenagers. She pushes me into a bathroom that's for a single person, and backs me up against the sink.

"You okay?" She asks with one hand on either side of my face. I nod, not trusting my mouth to speak.

I turn around to wash my face and gasp at my reflection. My skin looks pale and damp, my hair way more tousled than normal, and my pupils are fucking huge. They look like shark eyes. A wave of nausea comes up out of nowhere. I barely stumble to the toilet in time. Landi rubs my back and holds my bangs out of my face, cooing and soothing me until I'm done vomiting.

"Feel better now, huh?" She smiles softly at me. Her hair is living and breathing on its own.

"Uh-huh," is all I manage to say.

"You seein shit?" She asks while laughing.

"Uh-huh." I get up and rinse out my mouth with water from the skin and splash my face. She hands me paper towels.

"Come dance with me," she holds her hand out, and I take it.

We dance until we're covered in sweat, our shirts sticking to us. The K finally wore off. After a while, Landi and I ascend a staircase to find Noah. We find him on the second floor with a bunch of people sitting on ratty couches around a circular table. All sorts of powders and pills are strewn about the table and the floor is littered with cigarette butts.

"Hey, we wanna hit," Landi whispers in Noah's ear, and licks it. He kisses her on the lips as he says "Okay."

We go through the process. Spoon, water, H, spoon, heat, needle, find a vein, take the plunge. Only mine and Noah's is spliced with more ketamine. Says K-land is fun. I sit on the couch next to some guy who shares his cigarette with me. I like the way menthol cigarettes feel cool going in. Seems like most of the people here are too stoned to move. We're all a collective lump of heroin induced zombies. All except for a few. It feels too soon, but I drift off into unconsciousness.

Waking up, and the sun is burning my eyes, my cell phone ringing off the hook. It's Noah. "Hello?" I answer in a groggy voice.

"Dude, where are you? I told our boss you were out sick today, so I've got you covered, but where the fuck are you?" He sounds mildly panicked.

I open my eyes to see the other side of the colony with fake puffy clouds in the "sky". I'm somewhere outside. "I dunno," I say. Looking around, I see that I'm laying on concrete, on a roof?

"You disappeared on us last night! Landi was freakin out!" He rants. "Just get to my place. We leave for L2 tomorrow remember?"

"Yeah, I remember." My voice is hoarse and worn out. We hang up, and I lay still for a few moments. My whole body feels sore.

As I try to sit up, pain radiates from my lower extremities, more specifically my backside. I gasp, and roll onto my side. What the hell? There's a seeping sensation between my thighs, and oh fuck please don't let this be what I think it is. I reach in to the back of pants. withdrawing my hand, there's a milky pink diluted substance on the tips of my fingers. Fuck.

I rest my cheek against the concrete as my breathing becomes erratic. This isn't happening. I'm too strong to let this happen, no matter what I'm under the influence of. This isn't fucking happening.

I lay there for a good twenty minutes before forcing myself to stand. Everything hurts, it feels like I've been torn and cut on the inside. I limp through a door and down some stairs, and realize I was on the roof of the warehouse. Making my way slowly to the ground floor, I find the restroom. My reflection greets me as I push the door open.

I look like a train wreck. My eyes, bloodshot. My shirt button up sloppily, some buttons in wrong holes. I just realized I have no shoes or socks on. My pants are unbuttoned. There's bruising around my throat. My bottom lip is busted, a large scab crusted over. I turn away and leave the warehouse.

I limp to the nearest bus stop and wait. Somehow I still have my wallet. The bus comes and I get on. Resting my head against the window, I try not to think as I wait for my destination to approach. The hospital comes too soon, and I disembark.

I signed a fake name to the register, claiming I need an emergency check up. How can a check up be an emergency? I don't know, but the nurse took one look at me and didn't argue it. My "name" is called, and I follow a somewhat overweight African nurse to a room.

"So what seems to be the matter?" She asks eyeing my visible injuries.

I open my mouth to say something, but nothing comes out.

"Where you assaulted?" She asks. I grit my teeth and nod. "Where you sexually assaulted?" Again I just nod.

"Okay honey, I want you to change into the gown and lay on the table when you're done," she soothes me with a gentle voice.

I do as she's told me to, and she comes back in the room five minutes later.

"Do you want to report this?" I shake my head 'no'. "May I collect the evidence and photograph your injuries in case you change your mind?" I nod my head after a few unresponsive moments.

"Alright honey, I need you to open your legs, and put your feet in the stir ups."

I lay still, squinting my eyes shut tightly, hands clenched into fights at the side of the hospital gown. She tells me they're going to test the semen for any sexually transmitted diseases, and that they'll have the results in twenty minutes. Thank you, modern medicine. There's tearing, she sows me up with sutures that will dissolve slowly.

When we get to the photographing part, I flinch at every flash of light. There are more bruises that I hadn't noticed yet, on my hips, between my thighs, and on my lower back. Another nurse comes in the results and passes them to my nurse.

"The semen revealed no diseases or infections, so you're clean," she gives me a sad smirk. "But the test also showed four different DNA donors." Four? As she continues speaking, I gaze at the muted television over her head. Headline news, "Winner Heir Forced Out of Company for Gambling Away $10 Mill". Looks like I'm not the only one enduring the worst day of their life.

"Are you sure you don't want to report this?" The nurse asks me again.

"I don't want to," I whisper. She nods her head sadly, tells me I'm good to go.

Another bus ride and I'm finally at Noah's. him and Landi are at work. Good, I need to be alone. I hurriedly cook myself up a batch and inject it into my arm since its the easiest vein to find.

I collapse on the bed. I want to cry, but I can't. This is all my fault.