Monday, April 13, 2015

Asian Noodles - Cupcakes - Whiskey - Weed - Phones - Hard Falls - Ultimate Prices

"I simply have no respect for you anymore, and I'm sorry... Terribly sorry that it worked out this way. But honestly that's just the way life works sweetheart. You walked out on me, don't you forget that. My darkest hour... and you couldn't handle me? I don't expect anyone would ever be able to do that, but sure as hell I know that you couldn't and simply didn't want to. You couldn't handle the pain, the stress, your girlfriends asking why there were such large bags under my eyes. You said you loved me, but I think you loved the idea of me. You couldn't put of with the real me, and that's what hurt me the most. Im done with cocaine now if that pleases you. Totally done. But still, I will never allow you back into my life. Goodnight."

A series of squawks were made on the other side of the line, but they didn't last long because he didn't allow them to. He couldn't anymore. Chelsea would always be associated with cocaine to him, or at least a serious time in his life where a great deal of cocaine was consumed. A relapse was the last thing he needed. For once, cocaine was not on his mind. In all seriousness, he thought, he was done with it for good.

Sitting on his leather armchair, Lane walked over to his Bose sound system, inserting the auxiliary cord into his own phone. He knew exactly what he needed to listen to.

He leaned back after sitting down and closed his eyes will Kurt Cobain sang to him, saying, "I need an easy friend, I do, with an ear to lend, I don't think you fit this shoe, I do, won't you have a clue."
He slowly began to fade away as the song progressed to, "I do," in a repetitive manner, drowning and bathing in the himself in the grunge rock sound that originated out of Aberdeen, Washington.

Suddenly, Chelsea bursted into the room. Lane quickly rose out of his seat, and to his surprise, found Chelsea holding a Remington 12 gauge shotgun. She stood silently, staring at him. For a moment, he saw the face of Kurt Cobain flash over Chelsea's... just for a brief moment. She began to sing, "I like it I'm not gonna crack, I miss you I'm not gonna crack, I love you I'm not gonna crack, I killed you I'm not gonna crack."

The shotgun blazed. Lane never even saw her aim due to Chelsea's inhuman speed at shooting. The blast carried Lane through the air, across the room, slamming him into his own window. After a final blast, he was falling from the top floor of Dreamwood terrace. He fell for what felt like an eternity, and as he fell, he saw many different types of people, activities, and lives through the windows that his body passed. Some people were cooking, some were cleaning, others were watching a TV, and one couple was even having sex. His own life was chaos.

Now he was wide awake. "What a crazy ass dream!" He thought. And then he threw up. All over his favorite chair as well as he somewhat expensive suit he was wearing. Bits of cupcake went everywhere, and the smell of whiskey, as well as bile, was strong.

"What the fuck!"
"Gross. Oh God this is nasty. Damnit."

Quickly the memories of the day flooded back to him.

Earlier that day, Lane and Stanley went back to hole to explore its depths. There was only one way down: a rope tied to a tree generally sufficed. Kids in the town often explored the depths of the hole and used a rope just like this to get down there. As Lane and Stanley descended into the hole, the rope slipped and they fell 20 feet into a small pool of water at the bottom. On the far right end of the hole, there was a tunnel. A sign was posted at the roof of the tunnel, "Stay the fuck out - Lenny." Neither of them were hurt, however, they were both significantly high. Despite Lane's attempts to forbid weed during their hangout sessions, they always found it much easy to truly communicate and understand the importance of wisdom and learning experiences provided by life. They went to a cupcake shop following the falling incident to quench their ferocious hunger. Inside, a woman named Christine claimed she knew him.

It was extremely awkward, for the last time Lane had seen her, he had looked like a piece of shit. Stanley spoke up first, but Lane felt it was necessary to apologize for himself that night at the bar as well as explain part of his life. Christine was too concerned with dressing the cupcakes with extravagant icing, so Lane didn't bother to finish.

Stanley and Lane each order to largest cupcake in the store, called, "The Ultimate Price." They each devoured theirs separately in a mere four minutes. Walking up to the counter, Lane realized he had left his wallet back in his car. Because of his carelessness, Stanley had to pay for those "Ultimate Price" cupcakes, which was by no means an inexpensive mistake. Lane felt a little bad. He really liked this kid.

With his stomach empty now, he walked over to his freezer and unboxed a thing of frozen udon noodles. "Better than hot pockets. Wayyyyy better. MMMMMmmmmm."

Wednesday, April 1, 2015

He awoke to the smell of freshly brewed coffee following a night of on and off sleep. With a yawn, he got up, put on a dirty t-shirt and walked out of his bed room into the living room, expecting nothing of a surprise except his usual, uncleaned apartment.
"Good morning, Lane." She said.
Startled, Lane replied, "Yeah...."
Chelsea was the cause of the coffee smell. For a moment, he remembered the happy feelings she gave him as well as the feeling of belonging, but those had passed and in their place were feelings not of hate, but of discontent.
"Lane, I really want to talk to. Just hear my out for a second, okay?"
"Sweetheart, you walked out on me. Enjoy your coffee."
Quickening his pace, he walked by the counter and grab his lighter and Marlboro Red's. Chelsea was confused, not saying anything, and Lane had the slightest hint of a smile on his lips. He walked out of the apartment and down to the street, happy about his decision to leave Chelsea in an uncomfortable situation just as she had with him. While walking, he put the cigarette between his lips, and with multiple attempts, tried to light it, with no apparent success. Somewhat mad, lane flicked the cigarette into the road. This was one substance he was not addicted to; merely a simple kickback he liked to indulge in. However, there was still the issue of cocaine. He knew that he had to get busy, or things may become more tempting than they should.

Arriving at the children's home, Lane pondered if this was his place for today; a place where he could offer his wisdom as well as life experiences in order to steer someone else in the right direction. He entered the main office of the building, meeting a very attractive young woman dressed in multiple shades of purple.
"So... I would like to take part in your mentors service. I think I have a lot to say."
"Well sir, what can I put your name down as?"
"Lane Masterson. Yes, I am aware of the pretentious nature of my name."
The girls laughs.
"Mr. Masterson, mentors will be assigned a child to monitor, guide, and provide advice to. There's not much of an application, but, here's what I want to know. What can you offer to these children?"
"Well, for starters I am the CEO of Masterson Construction, the largest licensed construction company in the city and surrounding area. Due to my career choice as well as, uh, life decisions I have made, I think I can offer these children a lot of council as well as wisdom and crucial life advice."
"Thank you Mr. Masterson. We have coffee and donuts in the back room. I am going to go grab you a kid to mentor and spend the day with. This may not be your permanent fit, but, we will see how today goes."

In less than five minutes, Lane was paired up with a 17 year old foster child, and he was actually excited about this pair.
"Hey, my name's Stanley."
"Hello Stanley. I don't know if that woman told you who I am, but my name's Lane Masterson. Today, I am going to be your mentor. I know everyone else is going to be sitting around here all day, but... that just seems pointless and boring. Do we have to stay? Will people check on us all day?"
"Not really." He said. "People kind of mind their own business around here, especially when the mentors are around. Some people are seriously fucked up and need that help, you know?"
"So why do you need the mentoring then if you don't consider yourself fucked up?" Lane said, jokingly.
"Were all fucked up Lane. You could be a coke head for all I know!" Laughing, the kid realized the truth in this situation, as Lane face did not change. He face remained the same, unchanged or unhurt by the comment, but never the less unchanged. There was not a smile or a frown in sight on Lane's face.
"Damn... Well I'm not going to lie to you big Stan. I have abused some substance in my day, and let me tell you this: it takes you no where. I thought I could ride away from reality on any drug; escape the world and everything around you for a moment, just a moment. But drugs ride you after a while... things change after the first few uses. You come to a point where... well. You get the point don't you? No need to get too deep about myself."
"Lane, don't worry, I like your story. Lots of kids my age are assholes, but I'm not. I've had problems with substance abuse as well, and maybe we can even help each other. Now. Do you have a car? Lets go to the park."
An hour later they were sitting on the edge of the hole, with their legs dipping into the darkness provided the depths of the hole itself.
"Do you come here often?"
"Only when I need to."
He pulled something out of his pocket... a lighter?
"Kid, don't tell me you smoke cigs...."
"Nah, just weed. Smoke this with me. It will christen our friendship. Then no drugs from here on out, I swear."
Lane searched inside himself to ask his morals a question, and realized that he didn't have any, so he replied with a "just once" response.
Smoking a joint, they sat there on the edge that day. It was the right decision. Everything poured out of both of them, and instantly they knew they were going to be close friends.
"I went down there one time."
"Down there!?"
"Yeah. Were going there next man."
Lane took a long hit from the joint. His life currently felt like a movie, and he swore, with great focus, that he saw someone, or at least a moving light at the bottom of the hole.