Junkhead

White is Pure

"I'M A MOTHERFUCKING HEROIN ADDICT, HOW CAN I NOT RESIST IT WHEN IT'S SPLAYED OUT RIGHT INFRONT OF ME?!!!" Layne screamed.

The couple jumped when the door to their room swung open, a tired & angry version of Jerry standing in the doorway. His light eyes widened when they landed on the orange bottle clenched in Layne's hands. He stumbled onto the bed and yanked it out of the addict's fingers. When he stood back up, he shook his head in disbelief at the both of them.

"What the heck, you guys?!" Jerry spat, his eyes as big as grapefruits. He eyed down Layne. "Did you plan this...?"

Layne gave him a look of disbelief. "NO!!!" He turned to Nicky, nodding at her. "She fucking went out and scored! Brought me back a surprise present."

Nicky sighed, rolling her eyes at her boyfriend. When she turned back to look at Jerry, her expression immediately snapped from annoyance to being completely horrified.

"WHY WOULD YOU FUCKING DO THAT?!" Jerry screamed at her. He stomped up close to her, shaking the prescription bottle of powder at her. "Do you have ANY fucking idea what THIS SHIT has done to Layne?! At all?!"

Nicky covered her face in shame, crying again. "I'm--I'm sorry--"

"SORRY DOESNT CUT IT!" Jerry continued, his eyes watering. He fell on the ground beside her, curling up to his knees & sobbing. "How could you do this to Layne? I thought you cared about him..."

"I LOVE HIM!" She screamed defensively.

Jerry glared over at Layne. He was curled up in the bed, shaking, his drunk eyes fixated on Jerry's hand that held the bottle of smack. Jerry sobbed again & covered his eyes in shame.

"If you loved him, you would know he almost DIED from this shit, Nicky! He almost died so many times from it... He's been to rehab FOURTEEN TIMES NOW! The last time, when he met you, he was at his WORST. He WOULD HAVE DIED. He only weighed NINETY FUCKING POUNDS. He lost every fucking likable trait about him for a while!" He shook the container of heroin at her again, his face crinkling with disgust and rage.  "All he was was this motherfucking bottle of JUNK. He lost all of his fucking TEETH. His family is still TERRIFIED OF HIM. He almost lost his fucking CAREER."

Nicky shook her head. Without a warning, she got up and ran down the stairs. The both of them heard the front door bang shut & the sound of a car starting.

Layne shot up from the bed, now hysterically bawling. "She...is...leaving!" He shrieked between tears. He got up from the bed, clumsily running down the hallway, only to have Jerry hear him stumble down the staircase.

Jerry ran to him. His eyes grew wide when he saw Layne at the bottom of the steps. He was caressing his head that was gushing blood. The guitarist ran down the stairs & into his restroom down the hall. He grabbed his first aid kit from the cupboard, quickly jogging back to where Layne was to fix up his wound.

"You might have a concussion...fuck..." Jerry stammered as he wrapped gauze around Layne's forehead.

"She's gone," layne blurted, his face stone cold. "She's fucking GONE!" He yelled, jumping up to only have Jerry holding him to keep his drunk ass from falling again.

Jerry sighed, helping Layne limp over to the living room and lie down on the couch. He lit & handed Layne a cigarette, disappearing into the kitchen for a moment. Layne continued to cry, listening to the grumbling sounds of Jerry's coffee maker. He didn't even acknowledge Jerry when he attempted to hand him a cup of coffee to sober up.

"You need it, L," Jerry begged him, eyeing the distraught look plastered all over Layne's face. "I want you to stay awake... I'm pretty sure you have a concussion."

Layne sighed, holding back his tears and making himself gulp down the coffee. He gagged dryly. "I think I need some water..." he croaked, setting the mug down on the coffee table and taking a drag off his cigarette.

"Yeah...you're probably dehydrated. You seriously need to chill out on the sauce, L, this is getting ridiculous," Jerry growled. He didn't even wait for his friend to respond, going back into the kitchen and coming back with a glass of water.

Layne gulped it down hungrily. His eyes woozily slanted back to look at the entrance door. "Do you think she'll come back...?"

Jerry sighed & bit his lip. "I honestly don't know, Layne."

"I want her to come back..."

"Even after she pulled that fucked up stunt?!" Jerry blurted, looking at Layne like he was insane.

Tears fell down his cheeks. "I want to help her..."

"You should be focusing on YOURSELF right now..." Jerry muttered, studying the bandage that was wrapped around Layne's head. "...not another addict. Not to mention one that relapses and basically PRESSURES you to do the same."

"I love her..." He whimpered, licking his lips hastily, eyes still on the door.

"I get that...but it doesn't mean she's good for you, Layne..."

"Oh God, please... I hope she comes back..."