iCriminalMinds

Comfort In A Glass

SAMS POV

I had been fighting my sadness and loneliness for so long, but it was a primitive urge deep inside the locked crevices of my demented brain. My body ached, begging me to put it out of its misery. I was a bystander to everything in the world the day Carly left. It was like the world was being fast forwarded, months passing without my say, but I was frozen in place. I was emo.

The reality kicked in the hardest when I learned I had to go to Italy with that awful, BAU team. More specially, Mr. Spencer Reid. He was more of a know it all than my dear nub, Freddie. I was a sad image of city lives sadness as I stood on a street corner waiting for my Uber, with salty tears running down my cheek and into my mouth as I drank them to sustain my dwindling life force.

I hopped in my Uber, and deeply sighed. I even went as far as to pull out the raw steak I had in my back and dig into it. My runny tears were replaced with the blood of the steak, running down my mouth and dripping onto the seat.

"That's fucked up. I'm rating you zero stars." The driver said, digging his nails into the steering wheel every time I munched on that STEAK!!

"I rate you, not the other way around, bitch. Drop me off here, I wanna get a drink." I said. The driver immediately slammed the brakes and ushered me out before driving into the night sky.

I stumbled inside, though I wasn't yet drunk. I was stumbling through life, stumbling into bars, stumbling and tumbling. I found myself on a barstool ushering the ever so familiar bartender work his magic.

"GIBBBAAYYYYYY!!!!!" He yelled, taking off his shirt and shaking a drink. It exploded all over, much like all the women's ovaries at the sight of that hunk of a man.

He came over calmly after spotting me. He walked gracefully and with the confidence of a thousand men. Was it sad to say I was jealous of him?

"Well, well, well... if that isn't Sam Puckett." He smirked, placing his elbows on the bar and letting his oniony scented arm pit stench fill the air.

"I want straight tequila, and I want you to sing me one of your songs." I demanded. He turned his back to me and stared preparing my drink.

"Hey, don't you mean you want... GibbieDaKid to sing to you?" He asked, I replied with my smile. With his body rolls glimmering in the neon bar lighting, he seductively paced around in preparation.

"Drinks in my veins, this shits all the same! I know it might sound insane, but I'm looking for my main bitch... Yeah I'm looking for my my main bitch... Freddie's mamas got my cure! Freddie's mamas got a fat ass!" He belted. A tear escaped my eye once again, the beautiful lyrics connecting with me and my daily struggle.

"Gibbie... You're so right. I am looking for my main bitch. I have to go, Carly Shay needs me." I yelled, running away and leaving my drink only half drunk.

"Say hi to Freddie's mom for me!" He yelled
out before I slammed the bars door behind me. I ran all the way back to Bushwell Plaza because of my pure rush of will. Mopping around the city like I'm in a sad movie was going to get me nowhere. Sucking it up and going on that plane ride was going to get me thousands of miles closer to my... well.. bitch.

Back at Bushwell, I headed into my flat where I saw Freddie fast asleep, cuddling his stuffed teddy bear. I looked at him contently, wondering what he was dreaming.