MARLENA

Dawn. The sun attempting to peek out through the fog made me think of myself. I was
peeking out from the mass of people to shine through, to get myself noticed to become
the model I always dreamt of being. Dawn. A symbol for something new. Something new
indeed was waiting for me at that interview. A new career and later a new downfall.
Everything comes with a price.
I didn’t wake Rhys up before I began my ritual. From spite left over from the
incident yesterday or the simple adoration of how softly he slept, I couldn’t tell the
difference. I was a machine set on my mission: seek and destroy.
The room was a mess from before. It was the main reason why we had slept on
the living room floor. I could see the assorted instruments shattered and spread across the
floor. Pillows cast about the now flat duvet. Lamp crying in the corner. Swallowed,
smacked my lips a bit. The nerves throughout my body were beginning to buzz. To
irritate. To make me nauseous.
A smoke would be nice.
Opened up the compartment in the bed frame. Took out my own personal Jesus.
Packed it. Flick of the lighter. Inhale. No kiss. I doubt it did anything for him anyway. It
was all an act. I was sure of it.
Time for a shower.
Looking in the mirror, tamed hair after hours of work, simply standing there
naked, staring back into my lightly painted face, I thought back onto the relationship me
and Rhys had molded together. It seemed perfect. We were both raised in a life of
stripped innocence. A life we didn’t want to live. Lives that only seemed to revolve
around tragedy. Tragedy was our sun, our God. We were the loyal planets circling around
it, the religious followers on our knees praying with crucifixes hanging from rosaries in
between clenched fingers. No matter where we went it followed and we only grew
accustomed to it all while others would cringe at the stories we casually shared with one
another.
Rhys went to the opposite end of the spectrum than I when it came to coping with
the first five childhood years of our lives taken away. Those assuring and smiling mouths.
Those invading fingers. Fuck those invading fingers and those mouths that went places
where they did not belong. Fists clench in remembering. I couldn’t say no in fear of being
alone. I guess I never could say no to begin with. It was the same with her as it was with
him. No, don’t hit me. No, don’t fucking finger…
He turned to more and more women while I barricaded myself inside my head. A
new world formed there where everybody loved me and accepted me. Bloody smiles
from their cannibalistic ways, murdering slowly, yet they all embraced me and played
with me in the right way. I grew distant from the human race. No more touching. No
more hugs. No more affection. Such a bitter child, growing stronger through every
waking moment of pain, driven by emotion while all-smiling Rhys went down on the
next girl that spread her little skanky legs.
But this was only one thing that had made me so cold and condescending towards
others.
Rhys came from riches and luxury; I came from scrambling for Laundromat
money and barren kitchens. He strived for a normal life. I strived for a life with money to
pay away the worry and hurt. I wouldn’t ever have to see the Keaches again if I had the
money to be in a house far away from them. The poverty continued without any sign of
let up. I thought maybe I was just a repellant to good luck.
Then there he was. My own guardian angel. Just wandering around the school like
the fine working man he was trying to be back then. Somewhere along the trail of Hell I
had met Rhys. Looking for a challenge, he pursued, the hunter searching relentlessly to
display its prize on the wall in the lounge before searching for new game.
But then the hunter fell in love with the hunted.
 We understood each other. He knew I was afraid of sex (please don’t make me do
it,) and I knew he was afraid of commitment. So we waited it out. Played a few dates in
the midst of night where nobody could see us. Then we slowly succumbed to our fears
and have been together ever since. We had been soul mates from birth. Soul mates born
from two very different eras, two very different set of lifestyles.
And now, I felt something bad spawning in the back of my head.
Turned away from memories of past. I had to finish getting ready.
A simple black slip was all that covered my thin (you should really lose weight.
Imagine how happy you would be, so skinny!) body. A black faux fur coat, some gaudy
jewelry, hair smoothed back, slip of the shoes, and I was on my way.
The waiting room I was entering was full of catty girls. They all ranged in color
and facial structures. Each women’s perfume collided together to create a car accident of
aromas that made me sick to my stomach. While most were trying to sell themselves to
the girls sitting around them to rehearse what they were going to say to the interviewer,
some were sitting casually. The amateurs and the professionals were sorted out then.
Some of them were conversing in worried whispers with their agents. It was probably an
issue I didn’t have one but I would manage. Only then did I understand the saying “bag
of bones.”
I saw an open seat near the end of the line. I took it without conversing with the
girl next to me. My mission: seek and destroy. As rude as it may have sounded, I wasn’t
there to make friends. I was there to achieve my dream. I was ready to mow down
anybody in my way.
But a philosophy tapped me on the shoulder. Everything happens for a reason.
She was surprisingly calm considering the buzzing room. Tall, stark blonde hair,
strong facial structure, piercing blue eyes behind a pair of thin framed glasses; she had
the face of a porcelain doll. I knew she would be getting a call back.
Suddenly, she turned to me.
“Hi, my name is Audrey. Most people call me Radio.” She held out her hand. I
shook it. I liked the enthusiasm.
“Why do they call you Radio?”
 A cold smile pretending to be warm. I had seen the smile many times before. The
true meaning behind the mask couldn’t escape me even in one of my most anxious
moments. Those icy blue eyes weren’t icy for nothing.
“My style changes as much as my mood does. The way people click through a lot
of different radio stations is like the way I click through my different styles.” She looked
over my faux fur coat. “It turns out we’re both feeling very cold today…” Radio made a
gesture to say my name, only she didn’t know it.
“Marlena.”
“Marlena.” That cold smile again. “What a lovely name.” She leaned forward in
sudden interest, head propped upon imitation dreamy hand. “Tell me, Marlena, do you
happen to have—”
“Seabaugh, Marlena.”
I looked up. Nervously, I entered the room.

Radio
The new face was absolutely darling. It was a face I wouldn’t mind being around
more than often. I already had the job—I was just waiting around to see who else would
be joining me in the editorial. Most of these girls I had seen before. Their ugly
personalities stored inside those beautiful faces hadn’t changed from the last time I had
seen them. She seemed a bit more mature, a bit more humble in her aspiration. Marlena
Seabaugh. I hoped she would be joining the modeling business as well. She would stand
out perfectly with me. Her crazy raven black hair that was slyly slicked down, pensive
blue eyes. We could rule the world together.
Of course, this was all the Valium talking.
Drugs. You were always taught in school that they were harmful towards your
body and that they would ruin your life. How very wrong they all were. They enhanced
your mind. They enhanced your life. For me, they chose what I was going to wear that
day. What personality I was going to show through my clothing but always have the same
expression of coldness on my face. Coldness, (cut off that pretty little face of yours!)
leftover from the past.
 Waiting, waiting, waiting. I wonder what she was on. Those wide pupils weren’t
wide for nothing. She was too calm when talking to me, a bit too tense when walking in
the room. But then again, she was new at this. She didn’t even have an agent. My agent
knew to stay away from me when I was in the waiting room. Maybe I could help her find
an agent…
Finally, little Marlena emerged. She was smiling, most happy. I stood, smiling as
well. It may have been too soon to call it a friendship, but I knew it was going to become
one. This was a friendship that was going to grow. That hunch was almost always right.
“You’ll be coming with me?”
She nodded. “Rhys will be ecstatic!”
Christ almighty, she was going to be bringing the “boyfriend” along. Boys were
just toys after all. Nothing more. I walked out with her, feeding off her energy since I was
too tired to convey my own excitement in finding a new friend. “Have you ever been
before?”
Marlena shook her head. Oh, this was going to be so much fun.

Rhys
Taken under the wings of people who are bad for you,
It’s a recipe for disaster.

It’s fun while it lasts,

But as you’re coming down from the high,
Realizing you’re thirsting for more,
You grasp the fact that they only want you around scarcely,
And you don’t really matter to them.

It helps you forget the sadness inside.

It helps you remember the feeling of happiness.
It helps you escape for awhile.
It helps make you on top of the world.
It helps you feel accepted but in the end you’re nothing but a nobody.
 Time catches up with you in the end,
Eyes open,
And you apprehend,
You’ve wasted your time
Since it all doesn’t matter in the end.

How ironic. Writing about the consequences of heroin right after shooting up.
Exhale of the cigarette in between fingers. Brian always loved my poetry. He
continuously told me how I could have become a famous poet if I really wanted to. To
me, they were just up to par. I’ve seen better. I couldn’t compare. “You’re your hardest
critic, you know.” True for all artists.
I stared at the purple ink sprawled across the page. Slowly, I shrank after a sip of
coffee. Crawled into the purple ink, sighing in bliss at the calm color all around me. If
only Marlena were here with me.
Marlena left without saying goodbye this morning. It didn’t surprise me. She was
probably still aggravated from yesterday. Eventually she would see me. On the bathroom
floor. Stoned. Maybe she would want a taste one day. I wouldn’t force her though. I
didn’t want to ruin her life, make her a baghead just like me, but if she asked, I would
give since our love was all about sharing.
Love. I hadn’t experienced it until her. I didn’t want it until her. Everything about
us made me think of a jigsaw puzzle. She was broken and I had the glue to piece her back
together. I was a selfish pig and she had the patience to make me the man with a soul I
am today.
I knew I would never leave her. The simple thought of it made me cringe in
worry. What would I do without her? Marlena was my Queen, my everything. I followed
wherever she went. I was there if she ever fell. I was there to support her but most of all, I
was there to love her, as she loved me. I hoped she would never leave me. Things were
becoming complicated, I could just feel it.
Oh well. She would come back soon enough.
Flipped to the next page, started again.
 Blue eyes,
Always staring,
Always invading.

Funny how it is,

Falling in love with a new pair of blue,
After he had a pair himself.

She doesn’t have a pair of filthy hands,

She isn’t a filthy wretch,
She is loving and kind,
She is mine.

Knock on the door. “Come in!” Brian should have known by now that he could
just walk in whenever he pleased. Forever the gentleman. I could see his unemotional
swerve of his head as he brought it to and fro in search of where I was. Those shiny boots
made their way over to me at the kitchen table.
Coming from riches we had a knack for dressing expensively. Dressing, buying,
spending, all expensively. It’s not like it mattered. We had endless supplies of money to
fritter until the end of time or when bagheads stopped being bagheads around the world.
It was the benefit to our business—if one place got too dreary, you just jump into the next
city and make it your own. San Francisco had been my city for quite some time now and
I had no intention of allowing it to be anybody else’s.
Turned around, smiled. Thank God for Brian. That poem was turning out
complete shit. “What did you bring for us today, mate?”
Brian sat down across from me. His eyes went over the mounds of wrinkled paper
slung with purple ink. “You’ve been trying to write poems again.” Picked up a paper,
scanned it with robotic eyes, put it back down. Nothing ever passed his face. “But it isn’t
working.” He looked back to me. While other bagheads would smile at one another at the
thought of shooting up together, he blinked, and simply said, “Some more Pink
Lemonade.”
My smile widened. “Well, let’s have a go at it then.”
Brace around to make veins pop. Needle in arm. Rush. Oh yes. That rush.
More smiles from me. Heavy-lidded eyes behind blue aviators. Rings weighed
down the hand that brought the cigarette up to my lips. They were my anchor. An anchor
to keep a restless boat at sea kept in one spot.
I looked over to Brian, even muter, even more devoid of emotion. How did he do
it? I knew he was insanely neglected as a child but how could that have taken away all his
emotion? Neglected by his parents, neglected by his elder sister. Parents were too busy
cheating on each other when they weren’t at work. His bitch of a sister was too busy to be
home, none the less pay attention to poor little Brian and his developing detachment from
humanity. I don’t know what happened to them. I truly believe Brian chose to block it all
out of his head.
Took to living on his own and setting buildings on fire all for fun. Having a mild
case of OCD, he was sure to cast the evidence into the fire. Never was caught. Never
would be either. I needed the sly bastard. Without him, I would have been in jail for life
by now. Switched from drug to drug. Adrenaline, weed, LSD, cocaine, now this. Now he
was just a baghead like me, all because of that toot that first time at that party. It only
takes one time to get hooked. Only one other person to be brave just like you to find a
partner in crime. Searching for the next best thing, it was no wonder we became such
great mates. I guess Brian had always been this way. So unemotional. At that party, on
that one night…
Lit a cigarette. Puffed lightly.
“I’m surprised.”
Exhaled. “Surprised about what?”
“Marlena isn’t here.”
I nodded, took a sip of coffee. Silently offered him a cup by pointing to it with a
raise of the brows in every comical aspect to get him to laugh while I swallowed. Brian
shook his head. No laugh. Damn it. “Marlena’s at an interview.”
 “That’s fantastic.”
At the monotone Brian used, I couldn’t help but laugh. “It is. It means she’s
finally catching a break. I’m happy for her.”
“Yes. Me too.”
The door opened. Eyes darted up, body perked in alertness like the loyal puppy to
its master. Marlena walked in the door with a grin on her face…And somebody trailing
behind her.
“Fuck!” I whisper-screamed. Shoved down my sleeves. Brian followed suit.
Immediately, I jumped into action. “Shut the case, shut the case!” Brian slammed the
case closed quickly. “Give me the stuff.” He slid me the spoon, the syringes, the lighter,
my brace, and his tourniquet across the table. I jammed everything in my pocket except
my brace which I looped around the holders of my trousers. The pointy tip of the needle
poked and prodded at my leg.
Propped my feet up on the table. Grinned in pain. Tall, white-blonde hair,
piercing blue eyes. The pupils were a bit on the larger side though. Definitely not heroin.
Cocaine neither. Maybe a zoot to ease the nerves? She was unquestionably beautiful. I
kicked Brian gently from under the kitchen table. Gestured to her with my eyes. Brian
looked up and seemed surprisingly visibly unimpressed.
“Rhys, this is Radio. Radio, this is my boyfriend, Rhys.”
I held out my hand. We shook hands, me smiling all the way. “Charmed.” Then I
leaned forward in what Marlena said was my charismatic expression. “Now tell me, why
do they call you Radio?”
She smiled. Sent shivers down my twisted spine. “I have different styles, like
there are many different radio stations.”
Leaned backward, smiling again, putting a finger to my lips. “Interesting.” I
looked up to Marlena. “You bring home some interesting people.” Marlena laughed
lightly.
“Radio, this is Brian.”
Brian’s displeased expression seemed to be even more the definition of the word
while he shook her porcelain hand. “Lovely to meet you,” He said as monotonously as
his droning mouth would allow him. Me and Marlena exchanged glances. She looked
worried, eyes darting from the briefcase to my shielded eyes. I didn’t like the words that
were restrained behind those graying blue eyes. She was unhappy again.
“So love, tell us the news that had you smiling like the cat that ate the canary.”
Marlena put on her mask. “I got the job!”
“Baby!” I held my arms out in an embrace. She rushed over, luckily careful to not
jab the needle farther into my leg, hugging me back. “I’ll explain later,” I whispered in
her ear.
“No.”
I could feel the bile rising in her throat. Yet when she pulled back, she had the
perfect appearance of joy painted on her face. Pagliacci the clown. “You know what’s
even better about it?”
“What?”
“It’s in London!”
“That’s great!” Another hug. Another whispered reassurance, “Baby, I don’t want
you to be mad,” to another one-worded, “Later.” And repeat.
“But the shoot isn’t for awhile, so we have some time.”
“You would love it there.”
“That’s what I was telling her on the way up.”
Radio’s smile was devious. Too devious to not have something to hide. It was
eating away at me, not knowing. In due time, in due time. “You’ve been to London?” She
nodded. Then,
“Could somebody point me in the direction of the restroom?”
In unison, we all pointed down the hall. Radio flashed that cunning smile again
before saying quite softly, “Thank you,” and disappearing in a ghostly whisper.
Marlena sat in the seat next to me. She crossed her arms. Blinked slowly, all
delight drained from her face. When her moods went through a weaving rollercoaster like
this, it reminded me of somebody suddenly pulling the drain on a full bathtub or a cord in
a very important place where the electricity was needed. I knew she wanted to talk but
she wouldn’t as long as there were guests in the house. Didn’t blame her one bit. Our
matters were our matters, as much as Brian was my best mate.
Brian announced in his droll tone,
 “We need to shoot up at my house more often. Getting interrupted this much is
shit.”

Radio
That train wreck of a scene made me sick. “Baby” this, “baby” that. They thought
I couldn’t see through it all? Something was going on. Those pin-pricked pupils weren’t
so diminutive for nothing. Marlena looking to Rhys and then the briefcase in front of the
deadbeat friend, Brian I think his name was, was suspicious.
I needed another Valium.
Hmmm. Or maybe some coke would do better. But then the coke wouldn’t match
my fur coat…
Each drug gave me my own style. With Valium, I wore fur coats and black
clothing. My glasses weren’t a necessity; they were something that came with the
Valium. The glasses gave me an aura of mystery, of coldness. Coldness accentuated
especially by my ice-blue eyes. Valium was my calm yet brooding drug. I only took it on
special occasions, like today.
Coke made me more elegant. A splash of color, a few dresses, some heels. But
my hair, oh God, my hair was absolutely crazy and I adored it. Maybe that was why
Marlena stuck out so much to me. Why I wanted to be closer. Coke was most common. I
was still very distant, condescending, as is my nature, but it seemed even more
emphasized when the white lines were rushing through my veins. Up for three days,
down for three days. That was the life to live.
Speed made me eccentric. Animal prints, mix-matching clothes, neon colors,
giant hair accessories, sunglasses and boots, my legs always wanting to dance, my arms
always wanting to twist. Taken just for fun, when I felt like it, along with LSD and PCP.
I didn’t even toy with weed anymore. There was no point when I could be
swimming in all the others.
My only rule: no meth. I had yet to try heroin.
Reached into the pocket, pulled out the orange prescription bottle, took out a few
pills, crushed them up with the razor, made a few lines, took a bill, rolled it up tight, put it
in the normal nostril, and inhaled. Deep. Flying instantly. Flushed the toilet for good
measure. Just to make my bathroom excuse sound convincing. Shook out a few more,
popped them in the mouth, ran the faucet, swallowed.
Hello Miss Valium.
Drugs were my best friends. They were there for me when I needed them. Always
comforting, never leaving. They were there through the toughest of times (get out, get
out, get out!) and through the easiest.
I’ll show you mother dearest.
Dizzy, but not enough to make me suspicious. I grinned that grin that made
shivers run down even the most frightening of men’s spines. I was feeling a bit crafty. I
opened the bathroom door slowly, took off my heels, and slithered across the hardwood,
the navy blue rug, peered around the corner of the wall. I was a snake spying on the
Garden of Eden.
Adam and Eve have been awfully, awfully, naughty.
Briefcase was open. Tightly bound bags of white were aligned securely in the
velvet groves of the interior. A flurry of panicked whispers. Darling didn’t make any sort
of movement. She just sat there, arms crossed, a squint of the eyes in condemnation, of
dripping black hatred on her face. Rhys and Brian were rushing to put in a spoon,
tourniquet, some needles…
Fate had a funny way of bringing me places.
Heroin. They were heroin dealers. And addicts, by the looks of it.
I had to bite my lip to restrain from laughing. Dots of blood on the lips. Mr. Agent
Man wouldn’t approve of that. Licked it up, tasting the sweet coppery flavor on my pink
tongue. Crawled back to the heels, strapped them up, and began my descent down the
hall.
They had the greatest moment of vulnerability. Brian sitting there, without
emotion. Rhys next to him, hand on Marlena’s leg, looking a bit worried. Marlena still
sitting with arms crossed, up until the last second when I entered the room. The pretense
was placed over them. Rhys looked up, smiled, Marlena following suit. Brian was the
only one who continued to stare at the table like it were about to go up in flames at any
second. I smiled.
 “I’m afraid I have to be going.” I gestured to the silver watch on my wrist with a
long nail. “I have an appointment.”
“Oh, okay. It was nice meeting you!” Marlena exclaimed. She stood and showed
me the door. Brian refused to look up. Rhys smiled and waved. I waved back, smiling as
well, hopefully not showing my ingenious plan on my face like a neon sign.
Like I said before, this was going to be fun.

Rhys
With the shut of the door came the trigger to the chaos. Neither Marlena nor Brian
could hold in anything much longer. It was the disadvantage of being subconsciously
attracted to people like them. With self-destructive personalities. With all sorts of issues
with emotions. Marlena was irritated for what happened earlier. The whole heroin fiasco.
Brian was just irritated for being interrupted in the midst of a beginning of a great rush.
Plus, I don’t think (positive!) he’s not a very big fan of Marlena’s.
Marlena pulled the trigger and fired the bullet that might as well have driven us
all to amputate our limbs to try to survive. Sitting down, she crossed her arms and legs,
and said in a mocking half-whisper,
“That went great, didn’t it?”
It was one of the rarest sightings in the world to see Brian show any emotion. It
was like the apocalypse happening right before your eyes yet all you could do is gape in
wonder as the earth crumbled around you and brought you to your impending doom.
Anger, unfortunately, was the single emotion you didn’t want to see him show. He turned
nasty instantly. A monster, at the worst of his anger. A monster that spewed pure
brilliance of an insult to where you questioned your judgment of yourself.
Brian retorted darkly, “If you didn’t bring that wretched girl in—”
“Wretched? WRETCHED?” Marlena put her hands on the table in front of her,
standing up, the chair falling with a clatter onto the floor behind her. Marlena got
defensive quickly, especially when it came to things that involved her. It was only a
matter of time before these two finally butt heads. “If she was wretched, what does that
make YOU? Mr. I-get-people-addicted-to-shit!”
 Now it was Brian’s turn to stand up, mirroring her stance, their faces merely
inches apart. I could feel the flames in between their angry gazes. “I don’t get people
addicted to anything! They choose.” He was suddenly quiet. I knew what this meant. Oh
God no, wipe that conniving little smile off your face before this turns into me hiding the
knives.
Wait…He smiled?
“You just can’t cope with the fact that sometimes Rhys takes his eyes off you for
a couple of minutes to shoot up.”
Marlena began to lunge yet Brian did nothing if smile more. Those marble knees
made it up onto the table, that mouth that smiled and whispered words of affection curled
into a nasty snarl. I intervened just in time. Chair fell to the floor. The table shook, the
liquid inside the rattling coffee cups swaying as if under an oceanic current. My arms
went right around her middle, her hands outstretched for his throat, the fingers barely
touching his skin. She struggled in that woman-set-on-a-mission way. I hated her when
she was cross.
Brian merely smiled more, grabbed his briefcase, opened it, and slid a bag of Pink
across the table.
“So you can sleep at night.”
Marlena opened her mouth to scream something, yet I put a hand over her mouth
to stop any more of this nonsense. She continued to struggle against me. She was seeking
blood and I wasn’t helping her cause.
I would never tell her this but Brian was different. We had been through thick and
thin together. He was my best mate and he was the only one who made me feel loved,
once. Don’t let me be misunderstood. Brian was just my best mate. Nothing more. If we
had been more…
I watched as Brian gathered his coat, put it ‘round his shoulders and over his
arms, snapped the briefcase shut, tipped an imaginary hat to us, and left.
That was when I felt Marlena’s teeth in my hand.
I dropped her out of first instinct. Brian had already slipped out the door without
another word. I knew Marlena wouldn’t be as ridiculous to follow after him and make
more of a scene than what already was. Instead she sat on the table, panting angrily, and
then turned to me.
There was more Hell to endure.

Brian
I couldn’t believe that stupid little girl with the pretty little head who I absolutely
idolized just for having Rhys with her most of the time would act in such a way. I knew
how to press her buttons and that was exactly what I did. It was sadistic, me finding joy
in pissing her off and (accidentally) making more problems for Rhys. Maybe it was my
unintentional master plan to get them separated. Maybe it was just me being a little git
about everything. She didn’t need to overreact about the heroin. Rhys was my mate first,
not her’s.
Living in San Francisco, you learn to shrug off the feeling of people following
you since, nine times out of ten; it’s just another insane homeless person ambling around
without purpose. Or it actually is somebody following you. Mr. Shoe said,
“Don’ be so paranoid!”
But with Pink blocking off receptors in my brain, I couldn’t help but think in a
fearful process. I wouldn’t call it fear though. I hadn’t felt fear since the time I thought I
was going to lose him.
A homeless man sitting on the street curb stood as I approached. “Please sir, will
you buy this Bible off me so I can get some food?”
Religion. Something of such terror, not for the great unknown, but for the
extremity people were involved with something that could never be proved existed. I
hadn’t believed in anything since the sultry body of heroin entered my life. Even as a
child I hadn’t believed in God. If God existed, wouldn’t He have saved me from my
ignorant family? From the life I had succumbed to? If God existed, wouldn’t He have
brought me into His Kingdom long ago? Brought me into a safe place where the heroin
didn’t exist (how could I live a life like that?) and I could finally be happy?
Not in the forgiving mood. “Food meaning alcohol or drugs?” I clicked open my
briefcase. Good thing this was a good neighborhood or else I would be in jail in a
millisecond. “I can give you a free fucking load if you want!”
 The homeless man reached to the pristine area of my briefcase with dirt-caked,
bitten-to-the-quick fingernails. I snapped the briefcase shut on his fingers, hearing the
satisfying crack of bones breaking. I stared at him in disgust as he began to panic.
“Except nothing is free.” Opened it again, shut it around the corner, coat whipping behind
me, his wails following me down the avenue.
So what if I’m a bit sadistic? A bit masochistic?
So. What.
Made it home. The nice bland and overly neat apartment that I adored so very
much muted colored walls, geometric furniture pristine to the very period of the
definition of the word. It was every OCD sufferer’s dream home. Placed the briefcase on
the kitchen table, shrugged out of the coat, slipped off the shoes, put them in their correct
places. Loosening the tie, unbuttoning the shirt, unzipping the pants—
A ring of the doorbell.
Mr. Shoe called from the closet, “It’s no’ who you fink it is!”
“Fuck off.”
Shuffled to the door. Peered through the peep hole. Apathetic once again. I was
shocked myself that I had shown anger, a smile, and disgust all in a span of thirty
minutes or less. Now I was back to emotionless Brian. That poor kid in the back of the
class that was always picked on for being a faggot in the locker room. That poor kid that
was given his lack of emotion from the society around him. Swung open the door and
merely stood there, staring.
“What. Are. You. Doing. Here.”
There really was no reason for her being there. After all, I wasn’t very interested
in her, so I doubted she would be very interested in me. Ice blue eyes were creased
upward from that scheming smile we had all seen on her earlier that day. Leaned up
against the doorframe since I had not invited her inside, nor did I ever plan on.
“I’ve come to make a proposition.”
“You’re on Valium.”
Radio looked taken aback at my abrupt fact-stating. “How could you…”
“Your pupils are as big as a black hole. You’re coming to my house, which not
even my best mate does unless it’s for things you have no idea about, you’re too calm,
and the nostril you snorted it through has dried blood around the inside. I assume you are
a user of cocaine as well due to the almost unnoticeable yet completely noticeable grains
of white stuck in your nose hairs due to being too high to jam the dollar bill up far
enough.”
All she could do was blink. I knew a junkie when I saw one, being as I am one.
Oh so eloquent. Nobody could compare.
“Now what was your proposition?”
“May I come inside?”
“No. You’ll dirty everything up.” It wasn’t even the fact that she was a complete
stranger to me; it was her bringing in all the disgusting things from the outside. “What do
you want so desperately that you followed me back?”
“The heroin in your briefcase.”
If I could show it, I would have shown dread. Anxiety. Torment. Anything that
represented an “oh no” expression, really. But knowing she was an addict herself, it all
seemed to make sense. I half-turned to the briefcase and back again. “Oh.”
I was about to say no and slam the door in her face but that light bulb above my
head shone brightly. My most tortuous plan yet. Turning Marlena’s new friend into an
addict and aggravating her more.
“And how do you know about this?”
“All of you were a bit suspicious when I left the bathroom.”
“I see…” With this new, abrupt plan in motion, I was welcoming her inside and
sitting her down on the square couch. I thought maybe I could get a little extra bonus out
of this. Sat her down, made us a cup of tea, and began talking casually as if she were an
old friend that I was meaning to catch up with. “But what do I get in return?”
That slender fingered hand went straight to that special place through the
unzipped zipper like the bees go to the pheromones of the Queen bee. I just looked down
at her hand.
“What are you doing?”
“What does it look like?”
“Women aren’t my cup of tea. They haven’t been for twenty or so odd years.”
“May I ask why?”
 Finally looked back up to her. “You’re all insane.” She removed her hand and
sipped on her tea. In a way she looked elegant. She would have been something nice for
somebody but I could see the underlying messages she was shooting towards Marlena
earlier in Rhys’s apartment. It seemed we had more in common than we thought on first
impression.
“There has to be something you want.”
“I know there’s something you want.”
“Yes. It’s in that briefcase over there.”
I would let her think I didn’t know for now. “Well let’s see how much you can
take.” I stood and brought the briefcase over. Clicked it open, began the ritual of mixing
and tying the tourniquet. I did a display for her on how to shoot up so she could do it
herself. I didn’t want to do it for her. I made a syringe up for her, probably putting in a bit
too much, but why should I care if she overdosed right now in front of my eyes? She
wasn’t of any importance to me.
At the red blooming into the yellow Heaven near the stopper, I watched as she
began her ascent up into nothing and the beginning climb, for all of us, of a life much
more complicated than before.

Marlena
It was becoming a game of cat and mouse. Running in circles, fighting heroin,
trying to keep Rhys. It was a threesome that I couldn’t stand to be apart of. Somebody
was always getting more attention than the other. I was left to entertain myself.
Brian had left me livid. Fuming. Imagine your most angry moment but multiply it
by twelve. It was how livid, fuming, infuriated I was at that moment. Rhys restraining me
hadn’t made my mood any lighter. I yelled at him. I was much too angry to make sense.
The fierce emotion surging through my adrenaline-doused veins made it impossible for
my brain to record what exactly happened.
Coming down from the high of the adrenaline, coming down into reality, I didn’t
know how we ended up in one of those endearing positions in bed.
“We should move to London.”
 Hands, stroking. Fingers, tangling. Lips, kissing. Voice, soothing. How could I
have been so mad before? Anything and everything he said made me calmer. Made more
sense. I agreed. We needed to get away, to mend. We were shattering like glass. I didn’t
want that. He didn’t want that. Going to London would be good for us. Getting away
from everybody (Brian) would be good for us.
That Saturday we were meant to go down to San Ho. It would be the perfect time
to announce our departure. We would begin packing. And we did.
Saturday rolled around the corner. Another birthday party. For who, I don’t know.
I made the announcement to hear the choked “Congratulations.” Rhys left, the symphony
began. The symphony of disapproval that I didn’t give a damn about anymore. I ignored
all their comments. I smiled and walked out that door with Rhys to walk into another.
San Francisco flew out from under us. I waved goodbye to all my morals, all my
sanity. San Francisco was the safe place. The having a designated driver. London was the
danger. The driving drunk. We landed in a whole new world. It wasn’t the city: it was
what world the people in the city held. A world of downfalls, of lust, of confusion.
I had begun my descent.