Page 3 of Grave Dissonance
For a second I thought Kaye was going to sock him anyway for shits and giggles. I wouldn’t blame her. Iggy was a little brat that needed to be put in his place. To be honest, I was too, but I liked to mess with Lars, the band’s lead singer. He needed it because, like me, he got in his head so badly that he required to be shaken up.
Kaye turned to me. “I cannot believe I’m saying this, but monitor him.”
“Yes, I got him, but sort this shit out, Kaye, because I can’t keep Iggy in check for long.”
Kaye sauntered over to the modern glass coffee table and picked up the remote control. She flicked through the menu until she landed on what she was looking for. “It’s only for a couple of days. This should take care of Iggy’s problem.”
“Porn, Kaye,” Iggy said, a hint of outrage in his voice. “I’m a bona fide rock star. Not a twelve-year-old who gets excited by the first set of tits he’s ever seen.”
I slapped Iggy on the back. “Beggars can’t be choosers, and right now you’re a pauper, my friend.”
Kaye turned on her heel and walked toward the door. “I will check in with the two of you later, after I deal with my other two children and their new pet.”
“Jesus, porn,” Iggy mused. “That’s what my life has come down to, porn and my right hand.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. That was the beauty of Iggy. He brought a sense of wide-eyed wonder into my life. For someone who has never really had a carefree childhood, Iggy was an anomaly. He had this ability to create an environment that was so carefree and light that you couldn’t help but want to remain trapped in his orbit forever.
I stared at him from the corner of my eye as he flipped through the adult movies available to him. His face was so serious, as if picking the right skin flick could solve all the wonders of the universe.
“Oh, this one,” he said before he clicked the remote. “Twenty bucks for porn. I’m a dirty old man paying for it.” Iggy chuckled, eyes forming into saucers. “Yes, especially with this flick. I’m definitelya dirty old man.”
My gaze moved to the film titled Bisexual Cum Lovers Orgy.
Watching porn with Iggy shouldn’t have fazed me, but suddenly I was warm and my chest pounded frantically as a sense of unease washed over me.
The coffee table, my cigarettes, the wingback chair. The girl moaning on the screen, Iggy’s breathing, his hands rubbing up and down his jeans. I tapped my fingers on my pants, moved my leg. Shit, it wasn’t working. I jumped off the sofa and sprinted to one of the three bedrooms the suite had.
“Where are you going?” Iggy called after me.
“Umm, I just think…” I was stuttering. “I think I’ll give you some privacy.”
“Shut up and sit back down,” Iggy said as the porn started with a plumber ringing the door to a couple’s house. “Why are you being weird? We’ve banged women together before. To be honest, I can’t remember the last time I’ve banged a chick without you there fucking her with me.”
My palms were slick and my heart pounded in an intense rhythm as my breathing quickened. The last time that happened, they rushed me to the hospital, wondering if I was in the middle of a heart attack.
Logic would’ve told me to go into the bedroom and deal with my shit, but my feet remained frozen in place as if I were sinking in quicksand. Why the fuck was I unable to leave?
I flinched as warm hands grabbed my frigid fingers. “Just breathe, man. It’s only some dick and pussy. Nothing we haven’t seen together in the past.” Iggy stood in front of me, his face earnest, and his vibrant blue eyes gazed at me with unmatched intensity. When people spoke about the beauty of blue depths, they tried to describe eyes like his. The color was so breathtaking that I wasn’t sure I could ever articulate anything of true value about them to capture the magnitude of their exquisite and captivating beauty.
“Give me a second,” I said, pulling my hand away from his touch and instantly being confronted with a pang in my gut.
Iggy nodded, stepping back and allowing me the opportunity to escape.
In the hotel room, I shuffled through my suitcase and the agony in my body subsided as soon as my hand connected with the small cylinder. I pulled up the bottle and the rattling noise it made immediately comforted my mind. Flipping the cap, I removed the medication, the small capsule that released calm, that allowed me to delude myself into thinking everything would be okay. I popped the pellet into my mouth and swallowed it without the aid of water.
Iggy pounded on the door. “Yo, you okay? You’ve been in there for fifteen minutes.”
I wasn’t sure if I could get up. The haze cloud forming in my mind was comforting. The confusion, self-doubt, and terror were tucked away; the crippling fear now hidden behind the wall. Life was good. I was good. Everything would be okay. The heated marble floors were a warm hug against my feet. The hardness of stone melted into pillowy clouds. I took one controlled step, then another until my hand was on the doorknob. My fingers twisted the cold metal and I opened the door, revealing Iggy peering on the other side.
“Whatcha take?” he asked.
“Ativan,” I whispered, before pushing past him.
“Fuck, bro, learn to share. I would have taken that instead of popping Molly.”
Iggy and I were both dependent on chemicals to alter the way we perceived the world. I took drugs because I desperately needed to silence the cacophony of my mind, meanwhile Iggy got high because he thrived on the turbulence of chaos. We were a fucking match made in purgatory.
I stepped out of the bedroom and walked over to the sofa. Fuck, I loved Ativan. Heavy steps that felt like lead only twenty moments ago became weightless and light.