Gateway Drug | Volume I

Gateway Drug | Part Twenty-One

Warning(s):
Explicit language
Mentions of suicide

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"Viv, open the door." Fred calls from other side of the bathroom door.

I don't know if I should be relieved security's here or mortified because now I'll have to answer questions to the police, whose sirens I can here coming closer and closer.

"They've temporarily locked the hotel down, Viv, until the cops get here and when they're here you're gonna have to give a statement."

"I don't want to talk to anybody." I argue from my spot in the bathtub with the curtain closed.

There's silence on the other side for a moment.

"Can you be honest with me?" He asks and I let out a deep breath.

"Always." I reply honestly.

"Have you taken or done anything you weren't suppose to?"

"No." I tell him.

"Not to freak you out anymore than you already are, but we're on the seventh story. There isn't a balcony. There isn't even a ledge for someone to be able to stand outside the window and hold a gun on you." He explains to me calmly and I squeeze my eyes shut, crying because that's the last thing I wanted to hear. "I don't think there was a gunman, Viv."

"I saw him."

"What'd he look like?"

"I don't know."

"What do you mean you don't know?"

"It was too dark."

"Then how do you know you saw someone?"

I dry my eyes, irritation bugging at me as I stand and pull the curtain back.

"Are you calling me a liar, Fred?" I ask him, my tone shifting from that of fear to aggravation.

"I'm just saying something's missing in the salad and it could possibly be the lettuce." He replies casually and I step out of the tub and swing the door open to look up at him.

He shakes my Nardil bottle in his hand, his lips pressed together.

"Lettuce." He adds, raising his brows, before he reads the withdraw symptoms to himself that I've been avoiding to read this entire time before he stares my eyes down. "Pupils are fine." He mumbles to himself, grabbing my arms, legs, and anywhere that holds easy access veins to check entryways for needles.

His palm pushes my forehead back to angle my nose upward so he can check for coke residue.

There isn't any.

"I quit taking them." I admit as he finishes up his drug examination and he looks at me with furrowed brows. "My Nardil. I stopped it."

Confirming his theory, he glances around the room before stepping in to the bathroom and shutting the door.

"You're not..." He starts, seeming to be uncomfortable and I wait patiently for him to speak as he motions his hands. "...giving up or anyth-"

"No!" I deny completely, rubbing my forehead. "No, Fred, I'm not that bad off, now, and I wasn't bad off at all when I was on them." I reassure him.

"Then why'd you get off it?" He asks and I sigh, trying to figure out if I should tell him or not.

"The excuse I have planned is, 'I can't stand relying on a pill to make me happy', but it's bullshit." I confess. "If I tell you this, you can't tell anybody, Fred. I'm serious, or I'll kick your ass. Got it?" I ask and he nods. "Cross your heart?"