Junkhead

Unwanted Reunions

After Mike tried his best to interrogate Layne for a good hour, he left the poor man be. Especially after he yelled at Mike. Layne made him fully aware that he knew he was fucked up off Valium. Layne always hated it when Mike was stoned off pills.

"You act like a fucking idiot on that shit," Layne barked weakly, fidgeting uncomfortably in his chair as the liquid continued to ooze through his NG tube. A grimace elongated his face, his hand clutching his stomach. "I feel like I'm gonna blow chunks..."

Mike's brow raised, getting up and nodding to the red button on the side of Layne's bed. "Call the nurse," he ordered. Right as he pressed the button, Mike slunk out into the hallway again. A grin overcame his face when he looked over at the dark haired lady.

"Still having problems with the TV?" She asked sarcastically, grinning mischievously up at him from her keyboard.

He chuckled, leaning over to rest his elbow on the counter. "Nah. Layne's just being a bitch."

She snorted. "Geesh, are you always so nice to your friends, Mr. Rockstar?"

He shrugged. "I've learned that if I'm too nice to them, they get the wrong idea," he pointed to his hair & winked. "They can't resist my charm."

"Gay jokes, too, huh?" She asked mid-laughter.

Mike sighed, resting his head into the palm of his hand. He had to look away from that blue haze, it was distracting him. "Do you know where the pay phones are around here?" he muttered as he glanced back over at her. He couldn't help but to smile again, analyzing those feline-like eyes.

She pointed down the hall. "Right when you pass the restrooms, on the left, there's a waiting room for guests. There's a couple pay phones."

He smirked, patting the counter & beginning to head down the hall. "Thanks, doll," he called out to her. She giggled when she watched him pause and turn back to her. "I never got to know your name?" He asked dumbly, smiling to try to hide his blushing.

"It's Erica," she answered between laughter. "You dork."

"Oh, golly gee, you made me blush," he blurted sarcastically. He laughed and waved at her as he started back down the hallway. Once he spotted the pay phone, he rolled in a couple quarters & quickly dialed the number.

"Fucking hell...it's almost one in the morning, who is this...?" the deep voice groaned.

"Oh, shut the fuck up, Sean, you never go to sleep this early."

"Mike?"

"Noooo, I'm the ghost of your dead great grandmother." It was silent for a moment. Mike laughed. "Of course it's Mike, you idiot."

The sound of glass breaking broke the silence.

"...what the fuck are you doing...?" Mike asked, brows furrowed.

"Shit...."

"Sean?"

He heard his goofy laugh echo on the other line. "I just broke my fucking coffee table dude. Fourth one what the FUUUUCK."

Mike groaned. "You're drunk."

"There's nothing to do here and it's Friday...well technically Saturday now...but...you know..."

Mike laughed. "ANYWAYS...so, Layne finally answered his fucking door."

"REALLY?!" Sean shrieked. The sound of a can opening popped through the phone, making Mike wince. "How is that hermit doing?! Is he okay?"

"Hell no, we're in the hospital Sean."

"Holy FUCK, which one?! I'm heading over--"

"Please, dear lord, get a fucking cab?"