“One for you,” Roland said, wiping his hand down the leg of his pajamas and then grabbing his fresh mug of coffee and dumping it down the drain. He opened the freezer and pulled out the near-empty bottle of vodka he’d started on the night before and poured some into the glass. The vodka burned, surprisingly, and pleased him more than the coffee would have. Roland was aware he shouldn’t be drinking if he was going to start taking medication again, but a glass or two wouldn’t hurt him.
He finished what he’d poured, then dropped the glass into the sink. Roland opened his own bottle of pills, and placed one onto his tongue, then chased it with a swig straight from the bottle.
“And one for me.”
Roland closed his eyes and lowered himself to the floor, flexing his fingers around the neck of the bottle. His head was foggy and heavy. His mind, as always, felt like an insurmountable burden, and suddenly the idea of drinking more than a glass or two wasn’t such a bad idea. His mind hadn’t calmed down after his subconscious recollection of his last night with Cody, and it was all justtoo much. He took a drink and banged his head against the wood cabinets of the kitchen island. Roland felt his whole life like a weight on his shoulders.
Sometime later, it could have been minutes or hours, Roland felt the wet sandpaper swipe of Pete’s tongue against the top of his hand. He opened his eyes and smiled at the tiny feline, and then turned his hand palm up. Pete swatted at his finger.
Roland reached around to the other side of the island and felt for the plastic bag from Target that held the toys he and Donny had bought the day before. His fingers found the long plastic stick of the dangling glitter fish toy, and he pulled it free, waving it around Pete with a flourish.
Pete meowed happily and jumped up, trying to swat at it before falling gracelessly into a lump of fur on the floor.
“Poor little guy. I hope you get better soon,” Roland mused, dragging the fish across Pete’s bandaged paw. Pete meowed in agreement, then raised his other paw to attack the fish. Roland chuckled and took another drink.
Another unidentifiable amount of time passed. All Roland knew was that he was in love with Pete, he couldn’t stop thinking about Cody, and the vodka was gone. He didn’t remember drinking it. There couldn’t have been enough in the bottle for his mind to be this blurry. The door to the penthouse opened, and the first thought that entered his mind was Cody’s name.
He’s come home.
“Roland?”
That wasn’t Cody’s voice. Cody wasn’t here. Cody was gone, he’d been gone for a long time.
“What?” Roland answered back. His mind caught up to itself and he identified the voice. It was Donny. Fucking young, and perfect, and wonderful, and talented Donny with the blue eyes that were so pure they wiped everything from Roland’s mind but their own reflection. Donny, who deserved so much more than Roland. He swiped the fish for Pete and dropped the useless bottle from his other hand.
“Seriously?” Donny had rounded the island and stared down at Roland with a devastated look on his face. “I gave you another chance, Roland, and you go do the same fucking shit again?”
“I didn’t do the same shit. What do you mean?” Roland had tried to do right this time— tried to do right by Donny. He and Pete had both taken their pills today. What had he done wrong now? How had he fucked up now?
“You’re fucking drunk, Roland!”
“I didn’t drink that much. But, maybe, but Pete’s fine, so it’s different,” Roland smiled. He’d done right this time.
“Pete’s fine, so it’s different,” Donny repeated to him.
“Yes.” Roland nodded. “You were gone and so he had his medicine then he ate and we’ve been right here playing. I’ve been taking good care of him. Haven’t I, Pete? You tell him.” Roland rubbed his hand across Pete’s soft head and smiled at him, then looked up in time to see Donny grunt and storm out onto the balcony.
Chapter 16
Donny Gets To Decide What's Not Enough
Donny couldn’t remembera time he’d been as angry as he was in that moment. Sure, Roland had managed to keep Pete out of broken flatware, but he was three sheets to the goddamn wind again. Donny had the thought that Roland was more invested in his relationship with liquor than he ever would be with any living and breathing person.
Donny sat down on a chaise lounge and looked down at the city below. Hollywood looked dreary from this far up. Donny had always liked the city, but he liked it far less from up here. At least when you were down there, on the street, you could be part of it. Up here felt like a prison. Fifteen stories felt like a tower that stretched far into the sky and locked Roland, and by proxy Donny, away from the rest of the world. How did Roland live here happily?
He doesn’t.
The realization ricocheted around Donny’s brain, only coming to rest when the sliding glass door pulled open and Roland swayed out onto the balcony, closing the door behind him with a soft thud.
“What do you want, Roland?” Donny sighed. Was Donny willing to commit to this? Was thesparkof Roland worth breaking through theshellof Roland? Was it even possible? Was it worth it?
Roland collapsed onto the chaise lounge, his thigh alongside Donny’s. He was still in his pajamas.
“I didn’t mean to fuck up. I thought I did everything right.” His voice sounded disbelieving if not mildly repentant, which was overall a childish tone, Donny thought.
“Why do you drink so much?”
“I don’t. I didn’t.” Roland was barefoot and he covered one foot with the other, flexing his toes into each other.
