𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝔻𝕒𝕣𝕜𝕟𝕖𝕤𝕤 𝕋𝕙𝕒𝕥 ℂ𝕠𝕟𝕤𝕦𝕞𝕖𝕤 𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕃𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥 ➀

7 NUMB

A/N:
Again, I do not advocate substance abuse in the least. That being said, read with caution.

✭✭✭✭✭

I'm extremely happy that I don't have to work today. Also, I'm happy because it's a Saturday and I'm at my best friend's nightclub. Even if it's the club I usually bar tend at I don't care because I am so fucking bent right now. When you have the right connections you can obliterate your brain from existence.  Oh, and you can keep your job at the same time.

I look out onto the dance floor and watch the gyrating bodies from the exclusive section Trevor has above everyone else. There may be people out there but it just looks like a blur of colors to me right now. I grab my drink off the sill and down the entire thing from top to bottom. Fucked up are not even the words right now.  The ceiling is fucking melting into the wall.

I rub my face in my hands roughly. I can't even feel my hands on it. I can't feel much of anything and that was exactly the point of coming here. Oh, fuck. I close my eyes as another wonderfully numbing wave rides through me. I can practically feel the bass of the music thrumming through my body.

I open my eyes but it takes almost a century for them to fully open. At least that's what it seems like. The world slows down around me and it's the most beautiful fucking feeling.  Well, besides being with Monica last night.

What the fuck? Nope. 

I turn abruptly and stumble my way over to the private bar. I think I ask for a drink. I'm pretty sure I do at least. I can't feel my face or my mouth anymore so I'm not sure if I truly have the capability to form words properly. The guy slides me a glass of something which tells me that I did. I swing that back slamming the glass on the countertop after I finish. 

Oh fuck, I broke it. Whoops...

"Sean, you should probably slow it down." Trevor looks slightly concerned but he should really stop talking because he has ten faces right now. I'm not sure which one to pay attention to as he says, "not that I'm any better myself but damn, man. I have never seen you this messed up."        

Hah.  Says the guy with ten, wait, twelve fucking faces.

I don't respond. I just shrug because I'm afraid if I open my mouth he'll know just how messed up I really am. That's when that last drink slips into my veins. One, two, three... The lights are on but nobody's home. Sean doesn't live here anymore.

-&-

My head. Oh fuck. My heeeaaad.

I groan loudly as I place my palm over my right eye. What time is it? What day is it? What year is it? Fuck, what century am I in? I try to open my eyes. Trying to open them is the equivalent to lifting a fuck-ton of weight right now. Once I manage to finally get the damn things open I look at my surroundings.

Okay, firstly, I'm still at the club. I'm assuming this is a good thing because it means I didn't leave and do something stupid last night. Wait, scratch that, why does my right eye hurt so bad? Yeah, I definitely did something stupid. I feel a stirring at my feet. What the fuck is that? I look down to see a woman in just a G-string curled up by my feet like a god damn house cat.

I grimace down at her. Tell me I did not stick my dick in that. Please, tell me I did not fuck that woman. She looks like she is riddled with chlamydia. If I did I really, truly fucking hope I had enough sense to double wrap my dick and then saran wrap it. At least I have my pants on but where the fuck is my shirt?