Peach Cocaine

Late Tuesday afternoon and Oliver Sykes sits patiently on the porch steps leading to Casey’s flat. The sun shone brightly above him, making his head hurt a bit and he’s glad he decided to wear cut off skinnies and a striped tank-top today. The heat is beginning to become a bit unbearable.

He arrived an hour before Casey got out of work so he could prepare himself on asking her to his concert. The last time he had asked a girl out to something was back in his last year of schooling.

Before his addiction.

Before her.

His hands still shake, not as much as they used to, but it is noticeable if he holds out his hand, fingers splayed, for too long.

Oliver is happy that the nose bleeds have finally stopped, if anything. It took two months of withdrawal for them to completely cease. Many nights of breaking out into a cold sweat, panting and frantically breathing, clawing and grasping for something that is no longer available. Eyes wide and searching, fearful. Angry.

A shudder passes through him.

He clenches his eyes tightly. The cravings still prod in the back of his restless thoughts, continuously scraping and grating him everyday. It’s like his guts, bloody and dark, are being torn out and eaten slowly while he’s alive and watching every second of it.

“Hey, Oliver, you okay?” Genuine concern in that girlish voice.

Casey.

A smile spreads across his face as he opens his large, brown eyes, peering up at her in indisputable pleasure. He loves seeing her face. So kind and loving in those beautiful baby blues of hers.

Nothing like…

Oliver ignores the thought, “Yeah, I’m alright, just really hot.” He stands up and offers Casey a hug, she politely accepts. Pure bliss wraps itself around his heart. After they break apart, Oliver continues, “I’m in a band and… I was wondering if you’d like to go to a concert we’re gonna be in this Friday? Shit, that sounds daft when I say it out loud…”

Casey chuckles, “Sure, I wouldn’t mind going.”

“Brilliant!” Another grin strikes his face, “I’ll pay for your ticket and get you a backstage pass so no one gives you shit for wandering around when I’m not near you.”

“Thank you,” Casey says, then asking since the thought suddenly occurred to her, “It’s only three… would you like to come inside? I have pink lemonade and Chum would like to meet someone new…”

“Chum?”

“My dog, come on, you have to meet him!” So much excitement is radiating off of her that Oliver can’t help but follow like a love-struck puppy.

He hadn’t really planned on what he was going to do after asking her to the concert. Maybe go home and sleep, or call up the guys and practice with them? Whatever the case, it had become a pleasing turn of events.

After climbing a winding set of stairs they stopped in front of door ‘2B’. Casey began unlocking it, muttering, “Hold on Chum, stop scratching the door…”

As soon as the door slid open a medium-sized gray and white dog burst out, jumping, whimpering and scrabbling at Casey’s legs. “Jeez, boy calm down!” His speckled black feet danced around delightfully as he barged back inside.

“Well, here’s my home.”