LOST ANGELES

VIRAL

        My first story in TAINTED PULP NEWZ posted yesterday. I woke up this morning with a text from my boss.

        The Madison story is a hit. Viral. Welcome to the club my newest JR writer!

        I did it. I climb out of bed and grab my laptop. Any leads? Anyone I can follow next? I skim the headlines without finding a clue to my next story. My phone buzzes. Another text. Natalie Ragaro.

        Did you read the story on Madison? OMG.

        I wait thirty minutes to text her back.

        No?

        Natalie invites me over to her apartment in West Hollywood. I take an Uber and arrive at the luxury apartment complex. Natalie lives on the top floor in a penthouse.

        "Ryan!" I receive a hug.

        Natalie is wired. I see a mound of coke on a silver tray. I snort a line. I like it.

        "So, what's up?" I ask.

        "I want you to draw on my wall," Natalie says, pointing to the white blank space behind her.

        "Ok."

        "I'll pay you"

        "No. You might not like it."

        "I can wait until you're done then."

        Natalie plays music and I begin to sketch out my favorite manga characters on the wall. I do not partake in the quantity of cocaine that Natalie inhales every few minutes, but I snort a bit here and there. The high climbs higher and I begin to feel spectacular. I chew a Xanax to balance out. I complete a rough outline of the manga mural and lay back on the carpet.

        "I'm done for the day," I say

        "Come back tomorrow?" Natalie asks.

        "Sure."

*

        Back home and unable to sleep, I continue to search for another story. I sit on my bed with my laptop. Three hours go by until I find it. Film director Demetrio Saad. DUI. Mug shot. Court ordered rehab. I look up the rehabilitation center. OASIS. Palm Springs. Bingo. I call and reserve a room. They have people who wait by phones twenty-four seven at these rehabs. I guess it makes sense, but I am surprised at the same time. I would hate that job. I text Natalie.

        You still up?

        Yes! Of course! :)

        Can I come over?

        Knock three times when you're here xoxox

        I pack my duffel. Sketchbooks, clothes, meds. Uber. Elevator. Up. Up. Up. Knock. Knock. Knock. Natalie asks me if I'm moving in.

        "I'm going to go dry out for a week or so. Have you heard of OASIS?"

        "You're going back to rehab?" Natalie asks.

        "Yeah."

        Natalie seems upset.

        "I'm coming too."

        "Seriously?"

        "Let's see how long we last! I hear OASIS is pretty rad. The staff is supposed to all be like hot models."

        I smile. Natalie smiles. We take advantage of our last few hours and finish Natalie's coke. Natalie hires a driver to pick us up at noon. We split an OXY. By the time the sun sets our driver is helping Natalie with her luggage in front of the enormous OASIS compound. I don't know if coming with Natalie is a good or bad idea. I barely know her. I am happy to not be alone. I am usually a lone wolf. We walk inside through the floor to ceiling glass double doors.

        "Time to sober up," Natalie says.

        "I bet I can last a week." I brag.

        "I give you four days tops."

        "Is that a challenge?" I ask.

         "Yes."