So B---- pours me this drink that’s practically all Grey Goose and like no soda what-so-ever which let me tell you man is fine by me and he cuts a few lines on this little mirror he has and puts on this new Rhianna song that I swear I’ve heard every day for the past six months but B--- keeps telling me that this is some new re-mix of it and then he tells me to blow the lines fast and “not fucking spill any of it like last time” because C--- and some people are coming over to pre-game before we all go to H---- and he doesn’t really feel like sharing his Colombian Gold tonight and then I say something like “I swear to God I’m the only person in ---------- that hasn’t fucked C--- yet and B--- tells me I should get on that because honestly have you seen his fucking abs lately? And I tell him that yeah obviously I have he just posted this new picture of himself on MySpace that must’ve been taken at the beach this summer or something because he’s shirtless in it and is in this hot square-cut Burberry bathing suit and at this point my only condolence is that I think the guy’s sort of an idiot and didn’t go to a good school and doesn’t have an interesting job or anything but seriously those things are starting to matter less and less.
B--- finishes his drink and tells me to finish mine because he’s made me another and I’m glad that I haven’t eaten much today now because I’m starting to get drunk a lot easier than if I had had a bunch of carbs or something and then B--- asks me if I had heard that R---- had started dating someone, some newbie and I lie and say that I had heard that and that I didn’t really give a fuck and that R --- and I had broken up over six months ago but really I get this sort of lump in my throat that I try washing away with more vodka but it won’t leave and so I blow another half of a line and tell B--- that I need to use the bathroom and he says whatever and snorts up the remainder of the coke that’s still on the mirror and he reaches for a dime bag and cuts three more lines.
I don’t know how long I’m in the bathroom for but it isn’t more than a few minutes because all I do is piss and wash my hands and look at my pupils in the mirror and I try to remember how things were with R--- and if they were really different back then or if I had been lying to myself and they were really just the same as they are now and then I think about that day before Christmas when he left me and I cried on my brother’s shoulder back at home in P----- and how my brother had held my head in his hands and looked me in my eyes and told me that I was a damned good kid and that things would get better because – and I remember this part – because intrinsically humanity won’t end on such a tragedy and I cried and told him that that was beautiful and he laughed and told me it was from a song, and then I hear the door to B---‘s apartment open and I hear C----‘s voice and I stop thinking about R--- and my brother and I start thinking about C---‘s abs and how I’m the only person in ---- that hasn’t gotten to be with him yet and how I was going to go about changing that tonight and if I wasn’t able to would that make me less than? And then I walk out of the bathroom and C--- gives me this weak listless smile and I say hi and then I look at B--- and tell him that his nose is bleeding and he just sort of shrugs and says whatever and starts gumming the blow instead.
