Chapter 23 Control
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Control
“What’s with you?” Leaf asked, concerned. “You can tell me. I just want to help.”
Milo stared at the cigarette between his fingers and pressed his lips into a thin line.
Unlike Tristan, who had a real head of curls, Milo’s black hair was straight.
He kept it short on the sides and longer on top.
Normally, he valued a flawless appearance and combed them into a quiff, but now they were all messed up by the wind, and for the umpteenth time, Milo tucked a long strand behind his ear.
“Promise me you’ll keep Mingan out of this.”
Leaf hesitated and shifted in his chair. “That …” He was about to tell Milo that he couldn’t do that, but then he noticed Milo’s expression and how he was anxiously chewing on his lips.
“I … uh…” Milo’s voice was thin as air. “I owe Cisco seventy grand.”
Leaf’s jaw dropped. “Seventy …” He blinked in disbelief. “How … What? And who’s Cisco? Since when?”
As if he had bitten into a lemon, Milo grimaced. Leaning forward, he rested his elbows on his knees and rubbed his eyes. “I know, it’s … Shit! I thought …”
“No,” Leaf interrupted him. “You didn’t think anymore.”
Milo straightened his shoulders. “He’ll break my legs. Or my arms. Or maybe both. He threatened that I’d never play drums again.” His eyes glistened as he wiped his mouth. “Can you help me?”
“Of course,” Leaf replied immediately. “But I don’t have seventy grand.”
“I’m not asking you for money. I would never do that.”
“If I had it, I’d give it to you.”
Milo wiped a tear from his cheek discreetly. “Maybe there’s a way to get it another way. You know people who …”
“Damn it, Milo! Those people … They’re in the same league as this Cisco—I don’t even need to know him for that.”
“I could earn it somehow. But I need a job that only you can get me.”
Leaf shook his head. “No, that’s not a good idea.”
“Please, Leaf! I’m desperate! No chance I’ll make that up with a few drum recordings.”
“How much time do you have?”
“I have enough time. If I keep paying regularly, Cisco will be satisfied. But I need a decent income for that.”
Leaf sighed. Yes, he had connections, but did he want to be the one to introduce Milo to this industry?
On the other hand, when he didn’t think he was on a lucky streak, Milo was a reliable guy.
And with Tristan on tour and him being able to take a break from looking after his little brother, he had time to deal with this problem.
Or he had enough time to screw up everything.
“Please, Leaf. I wouldn’t ask you if you weren’t my last resort.”
“I can introduce you to Diego. He deals drugs and is always looking for runners. But don’t screw it up. Got it? I don’t want to regret this.”
“I won’t. Cross my heart,” Milo said seriously. “And you won’t say a word to Tristan.”
Leaf rolled his eyes. “I can’t believe I’m doing this.”
With all his strength, Leaf slammed on the brakes. The driver in the car ahead threw his hands up in frustration and cursed the vehicle in front of him. Leaf exhaled his fright and gripped the steering wheel even tighter.
Everything around him flickered as the memory dissolved like an old cellophane film, and he found himself back on the streets of L.A.
He had been driving around aimlessly, lost in thought, until Milo caught up with him.
The car in front of him kept moving steadily.
Leaf cautiously pressed the gas pedal, then reached for his phone and dialed a number on his speed dial.
“Hello?”
“Hey, it’s me.”
“Hi!”
Leaf hesitated. “Are you home?”
“Yeah.”
“Can I come over?”
“Of course.”
Leaf got on Highway 10, then switched to Venice Boulevard and headed toward the coast. When he parked outside Nathan’s house around nine o’clock, he remained in the car for a moment, taking a deep breath.
His pulse was no longer racing, and the chaos in his head had somewhat subsided, but his whole body still yearned for relief.
As he climbed out and walked around the car, Daisy announced his arrival with loud barking. Though tied up at the far end of the porch, Leaf still didn’t trust the Bull Terrier. Nathan appeared in the doorway, grinning.
“You look like crap,” was his greeting as he opened the screen door. “Come on in.”
“Hi,” Leaf muttered and entered Nathan’s house.
“Daniel’s coming over with some friends,” Nathan said, limping ahead into the basement. “Do you know him?”
“No.”
“Where have you been?” Nathan turned down the radio, where “Hotel California” by the Eagles was playing.
“Nowhere,” Leaf replied, sat down on the couch, and lit a cigarette.
“Sorry, man,” Nathan said, placing a beer in front of him and sitting down as well. “Hate to break it to you, but there’s no opium available right now.”
Leaf clenched his fist and breathed in and out. The day with Tristan had been beautiful, but that didn’t change the fact that he had long been in withdrawal. “What do you got? I’m tapped out.”
“A little bit of everything, actually.”
Leaf scanned the table and spotted fresh syringes. “I’ll take those,” he said, exhaling smoke loudly.
“Are you sure? I mean … I can’t stop you. But do you think that’s wise?”
Leaf paused for a while, trying to weigh his options. Cocaine was the wrong choice. Besides, reason had already left him at the sight of the syringe, making room for the demon spreading through every fiber of his being and screaming for the white gold with all its might.
It didn’t take long before he drew the boiled heroin into the syringe, placed the needle against a protruding vein, and injected the substance into his bloodstream.
He barely managed to put the syringe away before a warm wave enveloped him; gravity broke down, and he surrendered to a high he thought he had sworn off.
A blinding surge of warmth seared through him, and every trace of tension drained from his body.
It was incredible how fresh and untainted the high felt.
All the fear, pressure, and uncertainty dissolved, floating above him like white smoke.
Dragon-like creatures emerged from the flames, rising and disappearing into the mist. Dreams were within reach, and he was ready to embrace them all with open arms, knowing they could no longer harm him.
“Oh fuck …” he moaned, letting his hazy gaze wander to the ceiling.
In the distance, he heard the doorbell, followed by Nathan, who shortly after climbed the stairs with heavy legs.
Leaf tried to keep his eyes open, but he was seized by warm currents. Finally, his body had stopped trembling. The feeling of well-being and security was too comforting. He never wanted to return. Maybe he should just stay here. Forever.
As he came to again and opened his eyes, he needed a moment to get used to the dim candlelight.
His body felt heavy. Leaf laboriously dragged himself up and peered around groggily.
Sitting next to him was a guy, probably around forty, who was snorting a line.
Then he sat back upright, rubbed his nose, and looked at Leaf.
“Dude, you’re still alive.”
“That’s Daniel,” Nathan said, sitting in the armchair opposite, smoking a joint. “And these are Nick, April, and Diana.”
Leaf struggled to focus on the faces, so he nodded and reached for a cigarette with slow movements.
The upper window behind him was open, and a fresh breeze blew in.
The high lingered in Leaf’s body, making him feel like he was sitting in lukewarm water.
Everything was decelerated, which he was grateful for.
He lay back and watched the dancing shadows of the plant on the ceiling as Daniel lit a cigarette and responded to some comment from Nick that Leaf had missed.
“Aw, come on!” Daniel exclaimed. “We’ve long entered the new millennium, yet we still question what we can do.
We understand everything about AIDS, homosexuality, abuse, and drugs.
They’ve even banned smoking! The slow death isn’t fast enough anymore.
The media perpetuates fear to keep us in line.
Conspiracy theories have become the new terror.
And on TV, it’s the same mundane content every day.
No one aspires to be a rockstar anymore!
No! Today, they crave fame, even if it’s only for 15 worthless minutes, for whatever reason.
Ultimately, it’s all about paying—for everything!
For melting ice, for air pollution, for everything!
And the small window left for us is shrinking.
We’re nothing more than pitiful, troubled creatures.
Everyone is afraid. Everyone is terrified.
We’re trapped in a cycle of waiting, resigned to indifference, and hoping for better days. ”
Nathan took a drag from his joint and smiled, as Daniel intruded into Leaf’s field of view.
“You seem somehow familiar,” he said. “Are you a musician by any chance?”
Unperturbed, Leaf looked at the brown-haired surfer dude with the Billabong shirt and made an agreeing grunt. That’s all he could manage; it felt like the drugs in his system were fighting for his intestines.
“I wanted to be a rockstar too,” Daniel said. “My parents were totally against it. ‘You’re going to college, son! Law or medicine.’”
“You’ve been working at Starbucks for fifteen years,” Nathan interjected.
“That’s a decent job! It makes me happy.”
“Seriously?” Nathan asked.
Daniel didn’t respond, and Leaf didn’t care whether he blew his brains out with his finger or just nodded.
“It sounds like you’ve given up on music,” Nathan said.
“Oh, come on! Rock is dead.”
“Why should rock be dead?”
“It got pumped full of drugs and sold out to the industry.”
“Leaf won’t like hearing that.”
As Leaf opened his heavy eyelids, Nathan looked at him with concern. “Okay, Leaf, what drives you? Why do you still make music?”
“I can’t help it,” he muttered.
“For the money?”
“Money hasn’t consumed everything yet.”
“How bold,” Daniel exclaimed, rolling a joint. “But let’s be honest. Most of what comes out is crap.”
“Leaf won’t like hearing that either,” Nathan said and laughed. “Nightstalker just released their second album.”
“What! You’re … Nightstalker? Fuck! Nate! Why didn’t you say so earlier? I’m sitting next to a damn rockstar and didn’t even realize it.” Daniel grabbed Leaf’s upper arm. “Dude! I love your sound! You guys are awesome! It’s just great acid rock.”
As if that wasn’t enough attention, Leaf sensed someone sitting next to him. He gradually opened his eyes again and turned his head. Was that April or Diana?
Where’s Tristan?
“You’re really hot,” the blonde whispered in his ear. She put her hand on his cheek and searched for his lips. Completely high, Leaf turned his head away.
Tris …
But April—or Diana—wasn’t deterred. Her hands wandered over his upper body, eliciting a pleasant shiver in him. Helplessly, Leaf lifted his head. He was at the mercy of the high, and the sensations aroused him more than he wanted.
Shit … No … We’ve been together all afternoon …
No matter how hard he tried to resist, he found himself unable to muster the strength.
The blonde undid his belt and slipped her hand into his pants.
Contrary to his expectations, something stirred, and he groaned in disappointment.
It had to be the drugs; ever since he’d been with Tristan, he hadn’t been able to get aroused with any woman.
Desperately, he tried to focus on Tristan, imagining it was his touch.
Oh Tris, I’m so sorry.