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Michael had sat for seventeen minutes, watching Luke snore lightly on the couch as the sun peeled through the blinds. An empty glass, scrunched up pieces of paper and a once full bottle of whiskey accompanied Luke, making Michael scrunch up his nose in disgust. He didn't know if Luke planned on getting up today, but he did know that Luke was supposed to meet his manager in an hour, which he knew wasn't going to happen. He had taken the liberty of calling Rob himself, explaining that Luke wasn't feeling well and wouldn't be able to make it; Rob knew that this meant that Luke was hungover, but he didn't question it and instead asked Michael to tell Luke to call him in a few days.
"Dude, get up." Michael said as he poked Luke's shoulder with his foot. It was almost noon and Luke had been passed out on the couch all day. Michael had just returned home from staying the night at Kate's and had found Luke unconscious, immediately feeling guilty for not staying at home with him. But, he had believed that Luke was doing fine and hadn't expected him to suddenly spiral.
It had been just over ten days since the first time Luke started drinking again, but the only time Michael knew about was last night. It wasn't as bad as before, because it wasn't happening every night, but it was still happening and that rang alarm bells in Michael's head. He had refrained from calling Wendy, because he wanted to believe that it would only be a one time thing and that he could help Luke himself, however he was wrong. Luke had also been lying to Michael, he hadn't been going to see Wendy since he started drinking ten days ago. His excuse for Wendy was that he wasn't feeling well enough to leave the house.
Luke groaned as Michael shoved Luke's shoulder with his foot again, annoyed that he was being awoken when he felt like absolute shit, even though he was the only one to blame for that. "Michael, not now."
"Yes, now." Michael replied, heading to the kitchen and grabbing a glass, filling it with water and grabbing a pack of aspirin before heading back over to Luke, placing the items on the coffee table as Luke slowly sat up, his head in his hands. "What the fuck happened?"
"Well, the bottle of whiskey no longer exists." Luke responded with a croaky voice and Michael sighed, shaking his head.
"You can't keep doing this, man." Michael countered.
"Doing what?" Luke asked, though he knew what. He knew exactly what was coming, as he had received this lecture many times before. He knew that he had no one else but himself to blame, though.
Michael sighed. "You'll drink yourself to an early grave."
"Has the mail come today?" Luke asked, not aware of what time it was, or even what day it was. He chose not to acknowledge Michael's comment, because he knew that Michael was right– at this rate, Luke would end up dead before he fully got to live his life.
Michael rolled his eyes. "It's noon, of course it has. And, before you ask, yes, there's one for you."
Michael rolled his eyes as he tossed the envelope towards Luke, ignoring his best friend's scowl and taking a seat on the couch opposite him as he watched Luke eagerly tear the envelope open, wondering what Alana had to say. He was worried that she wasn't going to send him another letter, since his last one had taken so long, but seeing it in his hands made him happy.
