Hey, Violet

Can't Take Back the Bullet

"One last thing before you go." Eugene said before she left when the sun came up.

"What's that?" Violet asked.

"I won't have a phone you can contact me with; once you leave this palatial motel, I'll be getting a shower and changing residence." His tone was matter of fact. "After I leave here, you can consider the job done. This is your last chance to call this off. I'll even refund your ten bitcoins." He finishes.

"I gave you eleven." She corrected me.

"As I was saying, I can give you ten back."

She knew this game, she didn't want to play anymore. "Good. Do it!" She hugged him and then walked out. They never did see each other again.

***

Violet drove home after having sobered up. She hadn't drank any water over night, and was feeling hungover. She just made it into her house as she was about to blow chunks. Her kitchen sink was closest. The retching sound she made was ugly.

Violet used the rinse hose to wash down the vomit. She gets herself a tall glass of orange juice from the fridge and drinks it. She places the glass in the sink and heads to her room.

Laying down in her bed with a normal mattress was now foreign and uncomfortable to her. It felt like the mattress at the motel. Violet wanted to be back in Nick's bed, either of them; be it the one in his apartment or even the one at the studio. She missed the soft foam and the smell of Nick's cologne.

*Gut Punch. Violet falls asleep, crying.