Chris stormed into his New York apartment. He threw his bag on the floor and put his guitar on the couch. He then went straight to the bathroom. He took off his sunglasses and looked into the mirror. He looked absolutely awful. His hair was messy. He had neither shaved nor showered in a week and he had a black eye from the fight he had been in, two nights before. He splashed water on his face and looked up again. He saw nothing but guilt and grief in his face. A lot had happened in the last few hours of his life and he needed time to recollect his thoughts. He decided to take a shower.
After a long shower, he came out wearing a white T-shirt and a pair of black track pants. He felt like crying. He couldn't believe it. How could this ever happen to him? And he blamed nobody but himself. Not even Will, who let out his well-guarded secret, but himself. It was all his fault. His Jonny boy had left him and it was all his fault.
He sat on the couch and looked at his watch. It was 11:30 pm. He couldn't sleep. So he decided to stay up and write a few songs. Maybe that could help him forget the pain.
A few minutes later, he threw his guitar on the sofa in frustration. He couldn't write anything. The pain was just too much to handle. A few tears rolled down his face.
"I'm sorry Jonny boy", he murmured to himself.
He got up and looked into the fridge. Much to his relief, he found a chocolate bar. It was a bit old.
"Oh fuck it", he thought, "Nothing will happen".
He ate the chocolate and glanced at his watch again. It was 11:59 pm.
"Another sleepless night", he thought to himself.
He stretched himself on the floor and thought about everything that happened two days ago. Within minutes tears rolled down his face. The pain was just too much. It wasn't a sharp, short pain, like that of a gunshot wound. It was a long, searing pain as if his insides were being twisted and turned using a red hot iron rod. His heart felt heavy. He had never felt this kind of hurt before.
"That's it I can't take it anymore", he screamed.
He ran to the medicine cabinet and without giving a second thought he downed every painkiller he could find. He then proceeded to drink vodka.
Five bottles and a glass later, Chris lay on the floor smiling. The pain had reduced. It hadn't gone away, but it was substantially less. He laughed at his own misery. It was Boxing Day 2015 for God's sake and here he was all alone in his apartment. He wanted to die.
After that fateful night, he had told his family that he would be away for some work till New Year's day. His kids had protested, but, as much as he had wanted to be there with his family, he couldn't bear to. After reaching his flat in New York, he had switched off his phone, disconnected his landline and even paid the building receptionist to not let anyone, who wanted to see him, in. He just wasn't fit for human interaction now.
He felt the drugs kicking in. The pain was almost gone. He closed his eyes. Jonny's face flashed in front of his eyes. Those stunning green eyes always got Chris to his knees. He smiled. Everything was fading.
Just then he heard something. A woman's voice. Chris shuddered.
"Rough Night, eh?", the voice said.
He looked around.
"Here, on the couch"
Chris looked up to see a rather beautiful woman sitting on the couch. She wore a black leather jacket and a purple shirt with a pair of black jeans. She had short dark hair and a wicked smile plastered on her face. Something about her made Chris think that she was the kind you do not mess with. But what awed Chris was her stunning green eyes, just like the ones Jonny had. He looked at her with a gaping mouth.
"I know lad. You are surprised"
"But....How did you....."
"All in due time, lad.", the woman smiled, "All in due time."