Sober - An Exclusive Modest Series Novella (Larry Stylinson AU)

Chapter 6 - None the wiser

Hey guys, I am doing something very exciting. A competition! Write to me, who is your favourite character and why. Who's your favourite ship and why? I will be signing 20 Modest Series covers and giving them out. You chose your favourite cover and I will sign one and write you a little note. How does that sound? Also we will be making t-shirts for the fans. Some saying 'Free Harry' others 'Let Logan Live' and even more. You think you know the best shirt? Team Jiam? Set Larry Free? Comment below and maybe you can win one.

Funny note, over the weekend while I was researching drug addiction, watching documentaries on rehab and drug addicts (I research the hell out of everything) I took a break and started reading Modest Secrets just as a reader, firstly I CANNOT believe how far this story, our characters have come. Secondly, it felt so long ago since I wrote it, I genuinely was addicted and enjoying it like I had never read it before. Now I see what all the fuss is about ;) If you are good to me, I might extend the series past 6 books, what would you think about that?  

None the wiser

The room was stark, bare walls smothered with pictures of beautiful gardens and tranquil animals. All the usual 'happy' stuff they try to shove down the throats of the addicted and mentally ill. Harry sat down, he was looking at everyone through the haze of his high and he smiled lazily at the light above. A moth was fluttering around the light before bumping into the bulb, over and over. Dust fell from the bulb, the moth continued to move in rigid circles and, in Harry’s haze of the pure cocaine he had snorted, he could almost see each and every speck of dust as it wafted through the air.

The room quickly filled with conversation. He didn't talk; his mouth felt heavy and numb ­- his mind was whirring a hundred miles an hour like a freight train. He looked at Andrew, the guy had almost silver hair, it came down to his chin and hung in front of his dark eyes as he flipped the deck of cards. Harry’s mind moved quickly, his eyes, however, struggled to follow the cards as the whipped from one of Andrew’s scarred hands to the other.

Everything moved slowly around him, his mind was so in tune to each sound – the scrape of a chair, the clearing of a throat, the dusting of tobacco off pants of the grinding of teeth. Harry gazed at Darcy who was watching him intently, his arms folded over his chest. He gazed at Harry and then Dr. Pegg, his green eyes narrowing.

“Chill out, man,” he hissed beneath his breath.

Harry smiled, “I am so chilled.”

“Too chilled,” Darcy snapped then forced a smile and patted Harry on the shoulder as Dr. Pegg watched the two interact. He narrowed his eyes as he chewed on the end of his ball point pen. He began writing, every so often eyes glancing up at the two. “Keep it normal,” Darcy almost pleaded.

Harry smiled, “I have been hiding this for ages,” he sat up blinking a few times in an attempt to connect back with reality. That was the thing with drugs, drugs, cocaine and crack in particular gave a person this sense of belonging. As if encased in the most fragile, yet beautiful bubble that made pain go away and thought flit on the air as if they were nothing. Harry liked that bubble, the feel of not feeling very much at all. The weightlessness of his mind and heart, the way his body would still function but the screaming of his mind silenced, if only for a while. He liked the senseless, non existent energy that surrounded him like a puff of smoke.

Now he was in here and that bubble would soon be burst, he wasn’t sure what he was more afraid of. Leaving that bubble and finally facing reality or withdrawals. He knew about them, heard horror stories of how the body tortures you after you try to stay clean. Logan had told him, Logan. The name alone had his heart racing and his hands inadvertadly gripped the sides of his chair as he tried to shove the heartache away. But now Logan was in his mind, he closed his eyes.