Smash!

•E I G H T E E N•

Riley's POV

"I'll be back soon."

"Stop talking in your sleep!" Jolting awake at a painful shove and a loud bellow, I instantly get a pounding against my skull. I'm covered in a cold sweat, and my mouth is unbearably dry. My aching head lazily tosses around, noticing unfamiliar surroundings of a messy, dark studio apartment. Lying shirtless on a bare stained mattress, that smells like bad weed and seamen, lying on the grimy floor, I notice I'm not alone. Some doped up addict (probably a customer who woke me up), is sitting against a dirty wall with a needle stuck up his arm and a blissful smile on his spotted face.

I was dreaming of Jamie again. For the third night in a row. I dreamt of her long red curtain of hair, all her freckles, that rare grin only I can make, and the way she felt against me. The headache worsens as I dwell on her.

I can't miss her.

Groaning, I heave myself off the porn mattress, and shove the serious red head to the back of my mind. With heavy lidded eyes I search for my clothes in the dark, trashed studio apartment. I immediately pull my black hoodie over my throbbing head, and rush out this dumpster as fast as I can.

Car horns make my ears ring, the pale sunlight stabbing at my eyes, the putrid smell of the city streets making me nauseous. I regret letting Nate dragging me to New York City. I personally have always hated cities, smug, traffic, crowds, litter everywhere, over priced everything, the list goes on. Patting down my pockets I curse loud for everyone on the sidewalk to hear when I find them completely empty. My feet thud as I thunder up the many, many flight of stairs, another flaw of city life. Neighbors shout out their doors at me, as I take two stairs at a time up to the fifteenth floor.

"Hey asshole!" I boom, kicking the stained door open. The junkie scrambles off the dirty floor, looking for something to use as a weapon.

"Where is it?" I scream, grabbing him by the collar of his ripped shirt.

"I-I-I d-don't know what you're talking a-about!" He shrieks. I throw him hard against the grimy wall, grey dust shaking off everywhere.

"The hell you do! Where is it?!" I scream in his face. I slam him against the wall, this time harder. "I will end you if you don't cough it up!"

"F-f-fine!" The druggie cries out, fishing through his pockets. He plucks out my black wallet, holding it out like it's god sent. I blink down at it, I completely forgot it.

"Where are the damn keys!" I don't care if that wallet is filled or not. What I need back right this very second is the keys to Jamie's apartment! Those are the last reminder of the redhead.

"Street smarts. You know cars are the good stuff." He breathes, handing over my car keys. Glaring down at the old key, I feel stupid for forgetting about my car.

"Where!" Slam! "Are!" Slam! "My!" Slam! Keys!" With each word I throw him against the wall, each slam harder than the last. A rattling cuts through the air as Jamie's house keys clatter onto the floor. Tossing the druggie aside, I lunge for the keys. Just as my knuckles enclose around the keys a fist crashes into the side my face. Tumbling over, my head throbs as it falls against the floor.

"Asshole!" The druggie calls over his shoulder as he runs out. I spit out a bitter mouthful of blood. That's going to leave a bruise. Feeling like my head is splitting in two, I stagger down all the too many flights of stairs. Outside, the cold November air feels good against my bruising skin. Clutching the key to my chest, I take deep breaths. The polluted air isn't so putrid anymore.

------

"What happened to you, mate?" Nate laughs at the ugly purple bruise forming on my jaw. His hotel room is completely trashed. I hover in the doorway, to scared to accidentally step on a naked, unconscious stranger lying all across the floor. I notice that she isn't one of the sleeping party goers. I suppress my worry for her, Nate would punch me in the face if I asked where she is.