*Adrena's point of view*
''Fear, by Adrena Calero
What is your biggest fear?
For most people, the answer would be the sea, spiders or dying in a plane crash.
My biggest fear is the thought of, if I will turn out like my parents. It's both my fear, and my biggest fantasy.
Will I be addicted to the sweet taste of alcohol, or be in the need of a quick release from heroine? I know what you think about people like me. And I don't blame you. I am just another child in the system, who was destined to be a failure the second I appeared in my mother's womb. The thought of ending up like them haunts me, yet intrigues me. There is something almost addictive about the thought of living a life of an addict. The routines are simple. Everyone knows your flaws and they recognize the walls you put up to protect yourself from those who can't understand you.
You have a purpose – to get high. And there's a willpower there, that you won't see anywhere else very often. You would do anything to get that fix. Everything else suddenly seems so less important. There's a bond, a connection between you and the pill in your hand. If you give yourself in, and swallows the promises that the pill made, then it will make you whole. It will give you, whatever you want it to. It's almost sexual.
The love between an addict and the drug is more erotic than the love between a married couple. With a pill, you know that you will get off. In one way or another. That's why I don't blame my parents. They fell in love with each other and invited a third one in, creating a chaotic love triangle.
Their threesome created me, and without the pills or the sweet taste of alcohol, I wouldn't be here. I am made out of pills and poor decisions. But if anything, I was made out of love. The love my parents shared for each other, and the love that their addiction shared for them. I am resting in a body made of pills, and yet I don't consume them.
I will know, if I end up like my parents, when I find a love that thrives me the same way a fix thrive them. And by then, I will know.''
-------------------------------------------
I woke up with a headache. My eyes felt so heavy, that it felt like they were glued together. I was laying in a bed, but I could already feel that It wasn't mine. The sheets were soft like silk, and the duvet felt like clouds. I was laying on my back, and it felt like my body was swallowed by the madras I laid on.
My arms were resting down my sides, and they felt tingling. I tried to move them, but they were as heavy as my eyelids.
A couple of minutes went by, and I gained enough strength to open my eyes, just a little. I was also able to drag myself up a bit, so I could sit half up, using my elbows to hold me.
As I looked around, I couldn't believe what I was seeing. I was in a huge bedroom, much larger than my apartment. On my right, there was a huge door made entirely of glass, that lead out to an even bigger balcony. I could hear car noises coming from the street and city noises, so I figured that I was still somewhere in New York.
On my left, there was several huge bookshelves filled with books of all colors. There was also a desk, made of glass with at least three computers and a huge sound system. The floor was made out of marble and the walls were white as snow.
Was I dead? Is this heaven?
There was only one poster that I noticed, hanging right across from me. A poster from the movie Godfather. Right below it, was a huge mirror, with small lightbulbs all around it. I could only catch a glimpse of my own reflection, but I looked terrible. I also noticed the amount of clothes that were hanging from clothes racks. Only black suits and white shirts, so I figured that I was in a man's room.
There was something familiar about it. Only then did I realize the smell. I closed my eyes, as I tried to recall it.
Pinewood.
It reminded me of last night.
Wait? What happened last night?
I suddenly panicked, as I realized that I couldn't remember much from the evening before. I remember losing Naomi, and then some guy who approached me. I couldn't figure out if it was a dream or not, but I was certain that I went with him somewhere.
Fuck, come on Adrena, this is embarrassing. Did you just lose your v-card to someone whose name you can't remember?
Suddenly, the balcony door opened. I froze, as I saw an unknown man step foot inside the bedroom. He was tall and had short dark brown hair. Was he out there the whole time?
''Good morning. Slept well?'' the man said, as he threw a pack of cigarettes on the bed. I was mortified. Who was he?
''I'm so sorry, I don't remember anything. Did we..?''
He laughed.
''No, we didn't.'' He took off his shirt, and revealed a torso filled with tattoos. He turned around, as he was getting something from his drawer, which revealed his back. He had Amore et Bellum written between his shoulder blades.
''I'm going to take a shower. Meanwhile, drink this –'' he handed me a bottle with green liquid.
With an hoarse voice I stammered: ''what's that?''
''Relax, it's green juice. It'll help with the headache. Drink it all, and you'll feel better,'' he said, as he left the room with a towel thrown over his bare shoulder.
He left, and I was alone in the room again. I managed to swing my legs out of the bed, so my feet could rest on the cold marble floor. I looked at the green bottle that he gave me. I probably shouldn't drink it, or should I? If he's planning to kill me, then I don't think he would do it by poisoning me with green juice. I took of the lid and took a sip. Actually not that bad. I drank as much as I could.
I got up, and felt the blood rush down to my legs. They were tingling, same as my arms. I was able to walk a bit, and stretched them by each step. I glanced at my surroundings as I walked around the room. It was almost majestic, it looked like someone royal should live here. The sun greeted me with warmth from outside.
I walked towards the balcony and opened the big glass doors. An instant breeze hit my face, but it was nice. I walked outside, and saw the view. My mouth dropped. What met my eyes, wasn't what I expected.
I was in Brooklyn, near the Brooklyn bridge. I had a full view of it, from where I was standing. It was beautiful. Some antique chairs as well as a table stood on the balcony as well. An ashtray with cigarettes and cigars stood on the table.
For some reason, probably because of my given situation, I haven't realized until now, that I wasn't wearing my own clothes. I was wearing a black silky dress, that fell just above my knees. I wasn't typically fond of dresses, they didn't suit me. But this dress felt expensive, and I liked the way it blew with the wind. But why was I wearing a dress?
I walked back inside, and walked towards the big mirror, that stood right below the God father poster, across from the king sized bed. I looked so tired, my makeup was ruined and my mascara in particular was smudged. But the dress. I took a spin, and glanced at myself in the mirror. I've never liked my own reflection, but the dress made me look.. more mature, and I liked it.
''Do you like the dress?''
I gasped and turned my head towards the door. The man who left ten minutes before, returned. He had two cups of espresso in his hands, and looked at me with an amused smile.
''Oh, didn't see you there. Why am I wearing a dress?''
He laughed, and put down the cups on a small coffee table by the door. He was wearing grey sweatpants with no shirt. I couldn't help but look.
He scoffed at the green juice, that was on the bed. He raised his eyebrow and said with a cheeky grin; ''I told you to drink it all. Sit-''he pointed at the bed.
I seated, and took another sip of the juice.
''Now, please tell me, why am I wearing a dress? I wasn't last night, I remember that. Is that some weird fetish of yours, to dress women in black silky dresses?'' I wasn't sure why I asked him that, he didn't give me the ''odd'' fetish vibe.
''Nothing like that, no. You fucking puked all over your own clothes, so I had to find you something to wear for the night. Unless you wanted to sleep naked?''
I choked on the juice and almost gagged. I quickly swallowed it, I didn't' want to spill on the sheets, they looked expensive.
''God no! Did I really puke last night? That's disgusting, I'm so sorry.'' I covered my mouth with my hands.
He picked out a white shirt and put it on, same as a golden chain that was hanging above his desk. As he closed the chain, he walked towards me and seated himself on a red velvet chair, next to the bed.
''Fuck, the coffee,'' he said, as he got back up and got the coffee. He handed me one of the cups.
''Thanks. Now, please elaborate – what happened last night? I really can't remember and I'm sorry if that offends you, I've never done anything like this before.''
I could tell by the look on his face, that he knew I was telling the truth. He thought for a brief moment while he ran his fingers through his wet hair.
''Fuck. Well, I saw you inside the VIP lounge with this…. Man. Do you remember being there?'' he asked.
''Weakly. I remember that me and Naomi went to this nightclub, it was in a weird industrial area that I've never been at before. We went in, danced for a couple of hours and then she disappeared. I guess she went home with someone, she does that sometimes,''
I took a sip of the delicious yet very strong espresso and continued; ''I looked for her, but I couldn't find her. As I was about to leave, some random guy approached me and said that he saw her going home with someone. And uhm…''
I took a minute to think. It was getting clearer, but I still couldn't put a face on the man from the club.
''Take your time. Do you mind if I smoke?'' he asked. He leaned in to grab the cigarettes that laid next to me.
''No, go for it. Actually, can I bum one?'' I asked. I didn't usually smoke, but I suddenly had an urge to do so.
He handed me one, and lit it for me with a golden gas lighter. His fingers smelled like soap.
I took a drag and blew out the smoke. It immediately calmed my nerves.
''I remember that he asked me if I wanted to get a drink. I said yes, and then we walked into some room. I weakly recall the lighting. It was kind of red, and I remember that everyone inside the room was well dressed. It smelled like… well, I know this sounds weird, but it smelled like pinewood. Does that make sense?''
He nodded and got up to get something. As he returned, he held a bottle of cologne in his hand. He took of the lid and handed it to me.
''This?'' he asked.
I sniffed the bottle.
''Yes, exactly! So I guess that was your cologne?''
He nodded, while his cigarette was in his mouth. He squinted his eyes, as he blew out the smoke.
''Well, we sat at some table, near the end of the room. We drank some whiskey I think. He was very persistent, almost desperate. I don't remember much after we seated, but I do remember that he said something that made me want to leave. But I can't remember his name, or what he said specifically.''
''His name is Dimitri. I'll take over from here,'' he said, as he got back onto the chair again. He shuffled the cigarette in an ashtray that stood on the marble floor next to him.
''I was sitting right behind you and Dimitri. I hate to tell you this, but he drugged you. And If I didn't step in, you would have woken up somewhere a lot fucking worse today.''
I was in shock. Of course I wouldn't be able to remember anything, if I was drugged.
I had to stay calm, there was no need to panic right now. I was okay, I was alive and that's the most important. But I had to know more.
''Wow..'' the words left my lips as a mild breeze. ''I don't know what to say really. I-''
He interrupted me. ''I know, it's a fucks load to take in. But you have to listen to what I'm about to tell you, that's very fucking important. Okay?''
I curled up in the bed, and locked my arms around my legs.
He continued: ''The reason why you're here, is because I made a terrible mistake. You blacked out last night, not long after we spoke.''
''We spoke?'' I responded, with a miserable look on my face.
''Yes, I tried to warn you. Let's fucking all agree that it didn't work. Anyways – you blacked out, and then I saw Dimitri laying his hands on you. I got up, and.. Well let's just say that he was put in his place, that jackoff. Me and my friends taught him and his friends a lesson, but then we had to leave. If I left you there, you would have overdosed. So I had to take you back to my place.'' He paused, as he led another cigarette.
''So you saved my life?'' I questioned.
Our eyes met. His was brown and warm, they looked dreary.
''I don't know.''