Chapter 18
Howie leaned against the back of the door, breathing deeply. What the hell was going on? He didn't know anymore. Just this morning, everything was normal, or at least as normal as things ever were. But at least then he had known where he stood. Now he wasn't so sure. He walked slowly over to the bed, and sat on the edge, dropping his head and running a shaky hand through his hair. He needed to figure out what was going on, he needed to know what AJ was thinking. Only then would he have any answers. The only problem with that solution was that it required him to go and ask AJ, and he didn't think he could do that.
Once in the safety of his room, AJ headed straight for the bed, not even bothering to flip the catch on the door to lock it. Stripping down to his boxers as he went. He collapsed onto it and buried his head in the pillows, inhaling the scent of the fresh linen. God, what the hell was going on? He didn't understand it anymore. Everything was suddenly all so confusing. This morning he didn't have a care in the world, now, he felt like he was lugging the entire world around on his back. Nothing made sense anymore. He just wanted everything to go away, to escape from all his problems, even if only for a few hours. He wanted a drink.
He turned his head and spied the minibar in the corner of the room. He could hear its faint hum as it kept its contents cool, it was almost like a siren song, calling him to it. He got up and wondered slowly over to it and opened the door. Inside was an assortment of different types of alcohol. He was momentarily surprised, and then angered at the thought that the hotel did not have the decency to take it out so as not to provide the temptation. But then, a little voice in his head said, you want to drink, so why are you complaining.
He slowly reached his hand into the fridge and let his fingers rest on a small bottle of Jack Daniels. That had been his favourite once, his best friend. And what a great best friend he thought angrily, look where it had lead him; straight to rehab, whilst detouring just so he could hurt every one and everything around him.
His free hand gripped the door to the fridge tightly, his knuckles turning white. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. An image of Howie filtered up into his mind. Howie. The one person in his crazy mixed up life who he could always rely on, who had always been there for him, who had never left him or let him down, despite all the things that AJ had said and done. Howie was his REAL best friend. He opened his eyes and jerked his hand away from the bottle as if he had been burned. He slammed the door to the fridge, and reached over and pulled the plug from the wall, silencing the gentle hum that had taunted him. He stood up from the crouch he had been in, and turned around, heading straight back to the safety of his bed.
He fell onto it and just lay there for a while: trying to sort out his rushing thoughts. He had nearly given in to it that time. He had had cravings like this before, and each one had scared him more and more. He knew that it would happen, that it would be a constant battle to resist, and he had thought he could handle it. But each craving had been progressively worse than before, and he didn't know how much longer he could hold out. Before, he had gone to Leona, she would see the look on his face and know what he was going through, and she understood, or so he thought.
Something she had said after one of his attacks floated up into his mind. They had been lying in his bed, spent after a particularly strenuous session, and she had been nibbling at his earlobe, when she had murmured 'Ohhh, baby, I love it when you are like this.' It seemed like an innocent enough comment at the time. In fact, it had given his badly bruised ego some much needed stroking when she had said it. But now, he could see something more behind it, and it no longer seemed so innocent.
Each time he had had a craving like that, he had gone to her, and she had taken his mind off of it by fucking him senseless. At the time, he had thought that it was great, by the end of their session, he would be calm again, and everything was fine. But now, in hindsight, he could see that it was the wrong thing to do. He was merely allowing himself to be distracted from his desire for a drink, replacing it with his desire to fuck. Instead he should have been facing up to his desires head on, and working through it, just like he had tonight. But he hadn't. Instead he had allowed Leona to use his weakness in order to get him to fuck her senseless, to meet her own needs by using his own against him, and as a result, the following cravings would just get worse and worse. The Bitch. He was better off without her. He could see that now. It was people like her who had helped get him into trouble in the first place.
That revelation actually brought him some solace, and he smiled gently. He didn't need her. He didn't need people like her. But he knew he couldn't do it alone. He felt a momentary panic seize him at the thought that he would have to try to do it all on his own. But yet again an image of Howie floated up into his mind. From that afternoon, in the dressing room, when their faces were mere inches apart. He remembered the look in Howie's eyes, and he relaxed. He wasn't alone. He knew that. Whatever happened, all he had to remember was that Howie was there for him, like he always had been before. With that realisation, he finally found some peace, and felt his eyelids drooping. Sleep. Yes, sleep. That was a good idea. Everything would be different in the morning; everything was going to be fine.