Gateway Drug | Volume I

Gateway Drug | Part Ninety-Three [PT. 1]

Warning(s): Explicit language, drug abuse

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NIKKI

1987

I throw another drink back not long after yelling obscurities at Viv as she stomped out of VIP to leave and go home, between more lines of blow, a trip to the bathroom to get a fix and some drinks, we decide to take the party to Steven's new place. 

"You guys just can't be too loud, though, got it?" He says as sternly as he can as we get inside and he fumbles for his key. 

"Alright, alright, alright," I mumble, stepping inside, grabbing his bottle of Jack off the counter before getting comfortable on the floor by the window. 

We all talk--as best we can--for a little while, Steven and the boys making some calls to get some dealers here, and the only thing on my mind is getting a potent fix, until I hear something...very faint, very familiar...very, very, familiar...I furrow my brows to focus more, ignoring the guys' laughter and voices, my eyes training on the wall opposite of me. 

My subconscious puts it together before my conscious does, like smelling a blanket from a childhood home and immediately being taken back before your brain can quite grasp the feeling. 

Multiple memories shrouding that sound of Vivian that only she can really pull off. 

It doesn't take rocket science equation solving skills to put together why I'm currently hearing her soft, pretty moans carry on next door. 

I'm pretty sure more members of Guns, aside from Steven, are staying here right now. 

Apparently Stevie hears it not long after and slips into the next suite, where the sound is coming from, that's connected to his suite. 

I don't hear it anymore after he gets back in here. 

"Dealer's coming or what?" I ask Steven, my high starting to get blowed from the fact that my wife is next door on her back for someone who isn't me. 

I'd be jealous if I weren't numb to it by now.

"They're all tied up, man." Steven tells me and I groan, thinking for a second. 

An idea comes to mind that makes me want to bang my head against the wall, but I'm desperate and left with no option at this point. 

"I know a guy," I mumble, dragging myself up to the phone in the little kitchen area, reluctantly dialing a number I never wanted to dial again. 

It rings once...twice...three times… 

"Hello?" He answers and I roll my eyes. 

"'Sup man, it's Nikki." I reply, trying to put on my best "friendly" voice, even though it's making my blood boil that the bastard I could see myself killing is ultimately the one that's gonna be able to save the day. 

"Hey, dude." He replies. 

"Me and a few buddies of mine are out here at the Franklin Plaza Suites and need a few things." I rub the back of my neck.