"Keep my heart
Somewhere drugs don't go
Where the sunshine slows
Always keep me close."
-Drugs or Me, Jimmy Eat World
__________
A rave—that's what it was. Loud music, glow sticks, dancing and ecstasy. Abandoned warehouse Harlan's ass.
It was a rundown building for sure, but it was clear they had been up and running for quite sometime. It was an underground establishment, you had to know what to say just to get through the doors:
"All work no play makes Jack a dull boy."
"Ridiculous." Harlan thought. He hadn't been to a rave in years, not since his early twenties. He preferred the quietness of a bar and a simple house party. But this... this was insane.
Alcohol just didn't seem to numb the ridiculousness he had gotten himself into. All to forget her—Liana Cox.
Just one more month, he told himself; just one more month. It didn't make it any easier.
"You wanna go somewhere more quiet?" Laura yelled over the music; the neon lights moving along her face in the darkness of the building.
Harlan looked to Kyle and Mark to talk him out of it, but they were too busy flirting with a small group of girls to notice his predicament. He had to get away from the loudness, from all the dancing and lights.
Harlan stood from the booth, his tongue trailing across his top row of teeth as he waited for Laura to guide him out of this hell.
She made her way around the DJ booth to an emergency exit. The wires had been tinkered because no alarm had gone off when she pushed open the door, revealing a much different scene.
Bright fluorescent lights shined inconsistently on a long staircase—he could hear the sound of a light about to blow, one set of lights in particular flickering.
"You get high?" Laura asked, pulling a joint out from her bra.
Harlan couldn't help but to laugh. "It's been a while. Don't know if you noticed but, I'm more of a drinker."
"It'll ease the heartbreak." Laura winked, lighting up the end of the joint.
"My heartbreak, huh?" Harlan forced a half smile, holding his hand out for the joint.
"More fish in the sea, you're too good for her, she doesn't see what she's got... yada, yada, yada." Laura snickered as smoke billowed above her head.
Harlan took the joint between his fingers like a cigarette, inhaling so deeply that a crackling sound was heard. "How could you tell?" Harlan asked through a tight throat, trying to keep the smoke down in his lungs to get the full effect.
"Hate to burst your bubble, but you're pretty transparent." Laura sat down beside Harlan, reaching for the joint again.
"I fucked up." Harlan admitted.
"It's a human trait, we all do. Don't feel too bad, little miss perfect has fucked up a time or two herself, I'm sure."
"Little miss perfect? How do you know it was with Lee?" Harlan grinned.
"By the way you look at her. I can see the desperation in your eyes."
Harlan grew embarrassed—it had been obvious how much he loved her. Why couldn't Liana see that? She knew who he was—she knew he was a fuck up the moment she met him.
"She's the only person that's never used me. The only person that ever really loved me. And I had to fuck it all up by believing some bullshit that wasn't even true. Any excuse to push her away, I guess... I don't know. I think I got scared 'cause she wouldn't move in with me." Harlan got lost in thought; his eyes fixing on the crack in the concrete of the floor. "You wanna know the messed up part of it all?... I was gonna ask her to tour with me. Maybe write an album together." Harlan laughed—it wasn't funny, but damnit he was laughing. "I would've signed with UpFront. But because I had to hear it from some jungle bearded drummer with eyes for Lee... I had to act like a fuckin' idiot. I had to screw everything up."
Laura placed her hand on Harlan's knee. "I have no idea what you're talking about." Laura broke into a wide smile before taking a draw. Harlan laughed—he couldn't believe he was unloading so much onto a stranger.
"The fuck's in that?" Harlan exclaimed jokingly, staring at the joint in her hand.
"So is that why I'm here? Some shit go down with the last drummer?"
"Yeah. Some stupid shit went down, for sure. If I hadn't been such a moron, you wouldn't be here."
"Well, I'm glad you're a moron." Laura ran her hand through Harlan's hair, taking his sunglasses off his head and hanging them from the hem of his shirt. His smoldering eyes narrowed with a smirk. "I wouldn't be here if you weren't here. You're the only reason I took this gig." She licked her plump lips, keeping her bright green eyes on Harlan's brown ones. "I may have told your ex I have a girlfriend... I don't." She laughed.
"Why'd you lie?" Harlan asked; the sound of his own voice echoing.
She shrugged, keeping her hand in Harlan's hair. "Seemed easier. I could tell when she first laid eyes on me that she saw me as a threat."
"Are you a threat?" Harlan flirted back—anything to forget about her.
Laura leaned, getting ready to press her lips to his.
Her phone went off, causing her to quickly pull back. She stood from the step, kicking Harlan's boot, encouraging him to stand. "Jason's ready for me. He's upstairs." Laura slid her phone into her back pocket. "Come on, let's go." Laura smiled wide, putting the joint out on the rail before grabbing Harlan's hands. She pulled him up to his feet, intertwining their fingers as she made her way up the staircase.
The second floor looked to be of old offices. Laura stopped at the first door labeled 1001. She knocked four times before letting herself in.
"You Laura, Rhonda's friend?" A young man spoke. He was sitting in a forest green colored couch, the leather cushions were split—the upholstery cracking. The pungent smell of alcohol and marijuana overpowered the old library scent.
Smoke clouded the air, illuminating in the dull lamp light. There were two men, the one who spoke looked roughly the same age as Harlan, early thirties—maybe late twenties. The other was much younger, probably eighteen or so. The young boy was sitting back in the couch, he was nodding off with a cigarette in his hand.
"Yep, that's me. And this is Harlan. Harlan Hayworth."
The older boy clapped his hands, gleaming ear to ear as he stood from the worn out sofa. "Fuckin' awesome, man! I thought you were bullshittin' me! This is great. Yo, Greg... it's fuckin' Harlan Hayworth." He smacked the boy's chest, causing his cigarette to fall out of his hand.
"Sign somethin'. Make it out to Jason."
"What do you want me to sign?" Harlan asked, finding himself standing by to the coffee table.
"I don't care, just sign somethin'."
Harlan's brows raised at the guy's rudeness. "I don't have a pen."
"Here," Jason reached into his pocket, pulling out an ink pen. He chucked it at Harlan—the pen smacking him in the chest and falling to the floor. "So, Laura... whatcha want, I got it all. I think we discussed mud, right?"
"Yeah. I'm gonna need a syringe and... make that two syringes." Laura said, looking over at Harlan with a smirk.
"You got it babe, I got it all."
"Wait," Harlan spoke up. "Did you just say syringes? Are... are you gonna do heroin?" Harlan's tongue trailed along his bottom lip nervously.
What the fuck had he gotten himself into?
"You're gonna do it with me, right?" Laura giggled. Harlan watched as the man pulled out a container resembling a tackle box.
Fuck, it was a tackle box.
He stood perplexed, watching Jason toss a baggie onto the table. Laura slid a fifty dollar bill to him. "I'm gonna give an extra ten because I came unprepared." She chuckled nervously.
Harlan rubbed his brow, looking at Laura in disbelief. "I'm not doin' that shit. I don't know what you think of me, but it's a misconception." Harlan scoffed with a snide smile.
"Look, I know you're not a junkie. I can tell this isn't your drug of choice. But... Harlan, it's one night. Don't you wanna forget about little miss perfect... only for a night?" Laura pressed, her eyes wavering ever so often to Jason setting out the equipment.
It was a tempting thought—a night to forget the mistakes he had made that inevitably tore his relationship with Liana apart. He remembered the way he felt on heroin—how great he felt and the way nothing mattered at all.
Complete euphoria.
He could do it just this once; block the regrets for just one night. It would only be temporary, but perhaps that was okay. Anything to not feel the disappointment that was of himself.
"So what do you say, Harlan? You can sit around here and sulk about her, or you can feel the best you've ever felt in your life... your choice."
Harlan's lips twisted. He glanced down at his feet for a moment, contemplating.
It was only one night—it wasn't like he was going to turn into the junkie everyone seemed to believe he was. It was a temporary relief.
Harlan sighed. He raised his shoulders, shrugging in defeat with a frown.