chaosorc

Jeff woke up and gasped, he had inhaled puke or something gross and it was struggling to come back up, he gripped the pillow in one hand and an uncomfortable wave crossed him, his body jerked, his other hand was on someone's shoulder. He looked over and the grease sweaty back faced him, pale and pocked with pimples, long unwashed and unbrushed hair.

Logan

No

Come on Logan, wake up

What do you want Jeff

Get out of my bed

This ain't your bed

He looked around and realized he was in Logan's bedroom and it was nasty. He looked at the back of his other hand and there was something on it, must have smeared from the nightstand which was shrouded in darkness and covered with trash.

What the fuck happened

Rideshare

I know that but before that

You don't remember, we fucked, there was a pause.

Meghan

Her, yeah

Logan was talking to the wall.

Did she hit you or something why are you doing that

Get the fuck out, Jeff

Jesus

He stood up and looked around, surprised he was fully dressed. He looked at his shoe prints on the sheets at the foot of the bed.

You gotta do laundry

You gotta fuck off

Jeff stepped out of the bedroom and pulled the door shut, struggling against crinkling empty bags of chips or whatever.

Paul was kneeling in front of the couch with the white cube steamer.

Good morning

Paul kept working. Half the apartment looked like it had been cleaned, the other half was spattered with random food, red and yellow, possibly vomit.

He looked at the empty bottles all over the kitchen island, counter full with the contents of the open cupboards above.

Goodbye, Paul

He went to the front door and flipped the bird over his shoulder before pulling the door shut.

•

When he was finished cleaning Paul went into his room and shut the door then stood staring at the ballpoint pen portrait he had taped to the back of his bedroom door.

•

Logan sat upright and then bent over and pulled the bottle out from under his bed. He unscrewed and threw the cap at the television, took a tug on the bottle and wiped his mouth with the back of his arm.

Once his head was swimming he picked up the phone from the dresser.

•

He was running through the street, his hair wild and tangled, beard dripping with sweat in the hot spring air. The hallway was dark, egg shell and cigarette smoke, he had to use the plastic key on his keyring to get in. A man stood at the door smoking, no shirt, cutoff blue jeans, suspiciously clean converse shoes.

The dark corridor stretched ahead of him, paisley carpet red. He looked at the phone and tapped the power button, it didn't turn on.

He paused and examined the door and it was open. He turned around and there was a dark shape blocking his way back out to the smoker, to the street, cars rushing by. He stared at it for a moment in disbelief. Yellow eyes glaring, arms out at the sides, hands curved in claw position. She rushed forward and Jeff screamed.