Two Kids Stupid and Fearless

I had gotten home around four in the morning, so I guess it's kind of expected that I woke up at 11:50. Fantastic. Just fantastic. I had ten minutes to make myself look mildly attractive (or at least not like a homeless person) for coffee with Eric. I quickly found some jeans and a cardigan that didn't smell and pulled them on. I figured I wouldn't need shoes since in was just going down the hall, so I kept on my fuzzy kitty socks. I threw my hair up in a bun and then I was done.

"Going somewhere?" Jack asked creepily the minute I stepped out of my room.

"If you must know," I said, "I am going to coffee with one of our kind neighbours."

"Really huh? Which...kind neighbour was this?" Jack asked, crossing his arms.

"Eric." I put my hands on my hips an tried my best to look sassy. It's hard when you're wearing fuzzy kitty socks.

Jack looked at me with a worried expression. "I don't know, Mia. It's not very New York to invite someone you just met over for coffee. How do you know Eric isn't gonna try something on you?" He looked close to angry now.

"Listen, Jack. You're not my dad, okay? Eric is a nice guy!" I moved toward the door.

"You barely know him!" Jack stood up and walked closer.

"And how do you expect me to get to know him? At least he was polite enough to let me know he lived in his apartment!"

Jack's jaw dropped and that's the last I saw before I left.

Honestly, I felt bad about arguing with him, but he had no right to tell me who I could and couldn't hang out with. A cup of coffee with a new neighbour couldn't do too much harm, right?

214, 212, 210, aaaand 208. I fixed my sweater and smelled my breath before I knocked on the door twice. Almost instantly, a smiling Eric answered the door.

"Come on in!" He stepped aside to let me in. "Nice socks."

I blushed a bit. "Nice place you got here..." I said, not really knowing what else to do. I'm really awkward with strangers. Especially when people warn me about them.

"It's exactly the same as your apartment," Eric commented, waking down the hallway. "Speaking of, I never asked you, which apartment do you live in?" He sat down on a modern-looking red couch and I sat beside him, leaving a good foot and a half between us so he didn't get any ideas.

I pulled my legs up so I was sitting criss-cross-applesauce and adjusted my glasses before answering. "216, the other end of the hall."

Eric appeared to have a small heart attack when I answered, as his eyes popped out of his head and he sputtered and coughed. "You live with Jack Barakat?" He said Jack's name with disgust.

"Yeah, I was surprised at first, but now we get along just fine," I said. "Can I get some coffee? I'm falling asleep here." I really was. From boredom.

"Sure," Eric replied, promptly standing up. "I have hazelnut or caramel." He held up small containers of coffee flavouring to show me the options.

I pointed to the one on the right. "Hazelnut." I saw him pop the little circular container into one of those futuristic single-cup coffee brewers, place a mug under it, press a button, and then he returned and sat next to me again.

"Not to be nosy, but, are you and Jack, like, dating?" He looked uneasy as he asked me.

"No! I didn't even know he lived in the apartment until he practically broke in," I explained, laughing a bit. "I got the place off Craigslist, a roommate was definitely not in the description. We get along well. He's not my boyfriend, though. No way."

Eric visibly relaxed and leaned into the couch. The coffee brewer dinged and he got up to bring me my beverage. "Cream or sugar?" He called from the kitchen.

"Neither is fine," I replied. "Thanks." He carefully handed me the mug and I cautiously took a sip. I smiled and gave him a thumbs up. "Very good, thank you."

"You're welcome," he mumbled. He still looked a bit agitated from learning I lived with Jack.

"You okay?" I asked, taking another sip. "You look like you just saw a ghost." Really. Eric looked whiter than normal. lol i made a funny

Eric shifted a bit and scratched the back of his neck, shrugging. "Let's just say Jack and I don't really see eye to eye." I figured that was putting it nicely, he looked beyond pissed.

I guess now I know why Jack didn't like me coming over here– him and Eric were clearly enemies. I still didn't know the whole story, so I pushed further. "Really? What happened?" I inquired.

Those three words changed his attitude completely. Something dark flashed through Eric's green eyes and his normally relaxed expression turned into one of pure hatred. "You really wanna know?" He challenged me, fists clenched.

"Well yeah, you obviously loathe him. I'd like to know the story. I live with him after all," I shot back, trying to sound chill. Inside, I was dying to know and, to be honest, I was a bit scared. I sipped at my coffee nervously and looked at the wood floor.

Eric sighed heavily and ran a hand through his hair before he began. "It all started when we were both twenty two, so about two years ago. Jack and I were in a band. I was doing lead vocals and rhythm guitar. He was on lead guitar. We had a couple buddies from high school on bass and drums. Things were going great. We had released an EP and we were getting ready to release our debut album. But then Jack started skipping band practice and he wouldn't show up to the studio to track the songs. This went on for a month and eventually we had to put our album aside to help him. We found out he had a gambling addiction. He would be at the casino all day, and leave his phone at home so no one could 'disrupt' him. We also discovered that he was addicted to heroin, and PCP too. His hallucinations would tell him to keep gambling, they told him the more he gambled, the more he'd win. He was fucked up, man." Eric paused to breathe and he shook his head. He glanced at me as if to ask of I was okay. I nodded and he started again.

"Luckily we found him early on, so treatment wasn't too difficult. We put him in rehab for a few weeks. He got out and he was clean, as far as we knew. He still drank a lot, but we're in a band. We all do. So we went back to the studio. We finished recording the album, and after it was released, we went on a co-headlining tour with a couple of other bands. Jack was struggling. When you're on the road like that, you party every night. The bands we were touring with, they were hardcore. Sex, booze, drugs, the whole nine yards. He wasn't strong enough. We had three days left of the tour when we found him passed out in his bunk. He had OD'd on heroin. He was put in the hospital, recovered nicely. But the rest of the band, we'd had enough. So we kicked him out of the band, for his sake and that of the fans. The band broke up soon after. When we returned home, I heard word from friends and neighbours that he was still partying, still addicted. They told me he brought home girls almost every night. They'd party, then bang, and during the day, he'd gamble. He lost so much money from gambling and drugs and hookers, he almost lost his apartment. Now, I thought he had payed off most of the debt. Until I heard him talking with a friend a few months ago. He was still way in debt. He said he'd stopped gambling but he couldn't stop with the drugs and sex. He could afford just about everything, because his dad is loaded, except for those two. So, I guess he put an ad on Craigslist. How much is your rent, Mia?" Eric turned to me, looking worried.

"Four hundred a month," I answered, recoiling into the couch and hiding my face in the coffee mug.

"Sounds about right. That dirty bastard. Got the best of both worlds, huh. Money for drugs and a pretty, innocent young single girl looking for a new life in the big city. I hate to say it Mia, but I think you're paying his drug money, and, well, I think he wants you to be his personal booty call. Readily available, just down the hall. You've got nowhere to go, you live twelve hours away. And you can clean up after his lazy ass. What does he do, sit at home all day and jerk off?" Eric snorted and smirked.

I shifted uncomfortably. "No, actually," I explained. "He goes to work most days and then he travels for a few months at a time."

"Probably at a bar that has strippers and poker," Eric quickly answered.

"And where does he go when he's gone for months?" I questioned carefully.

"That I don't know," Eric admitted. "He might be gambling in other places. Or at rehab. I'm not sure."

There was an awkward silence for a few minutes as Eric stared out the window behind the couch and I looked down to the inside of my mug.

"I don't want to scare you off so soon, Mia," he assured me, putting a hand a little too high on my thigh. "Just be careful. He's not stable."

His hand moved farther up my leg and he made eye contact. I examined his face, looking for any sign he was lying about Jack. This was a lot to take in for one day. I noticed his eyes were bloodshot and his pupils were giant. He had big, blue circles under his eyes like he hasn't slept in weeks. Jesus, he looked like hell. Probably because he was up late just like me, and the bands had probably had an after party. He leaned I'm and closed his eyes and that's when I lost it. Was he serious? Trying to kiss me after telling me that my roommate was basically a maniac? Not cool, Eric.

I shook my head and quickly got up. I had to get out of here. I had to clear my mind and try to think this through. He stood up too, snapping out of it. "Well, it was nice chatting with you Eric but I really should be going." I made my way to the door and he followed close behind.

"I'm sorry if I scared you, Mia. I just want you to be safe," he said gently, grabbing my hand.

I yanked it away, trying my best not to be too rude. "Yeah, bye." I shut the door and then I ran down the hall. I opened the front door, which I had left unlocked, and ran to my room. I slammed the door then jumped on my bed, face down.

I felt like screaming. I felt like sobbing. I felt like tearing my hair out. I felt like slapping Jack in the face, then doing the same to Eric. Most of all, I felt like going home.