Jean reached for a transparent orange prescription bottle sitting on the bedside table in his hotel room. He seemed to be having trouble breathing, and his chest heaved as he popped open the prescription bottle cap and threw two pills in his mouth, then got up and headed for the fridge.
Thankfully, it had been restocked the night before, and a few bottles of water alongside some cans of soda he'd probably never drink filled it. He swallowed the pills with a gulp of water and went back to bed.
He could feel the tension in his veins start to ease up almost immediately as his breathing slowed, and he let out a deep sigh and ran a hand over his face.
He felt like shit. His head was pounding and tiny beads of sweat had formed all over his temple despite the coolness of the air conditioning in the room.
