Chapter Two

"Needle And The Damage Done"

I caught you knockin'
at my cellar door
I love you, baby,
can I have some more
Ooh, ooh, the damage done.

I hit the city and
I lost my band
I watched the needle
take another man
Gone, gone, the damage done.

I sing the song
because I love the man
I know that some
of you don't understand
Milk-blood
to keep from running out.

I've seen the needle
and the damage done
A little part of it in everyone
But every junkie's
like a settin' sun.

. The whole situation was easy enough for Matt to put out of his head.  The key was staying away from Brian.  After Brian had staggered out his door, leaving Matt to clean up the aftermath, he had not heard word one from the guitarist, which was exactly the way he wanted it.   It would turn out though that no one else had heard from him either.

 

They had bravely taken eight weeks off from touring and recording.  It was something their record label and management had frowned upon, afraid that every second they spent out of the public eye would cost them potential record sales.  The guys had stood their ground though, demanding time to rest and recharge before even thinking about starting another album. 

 

During this time there were plenty of chances to mingle, like Matt's Monday Night Footbal/I've Got a Bigger TV Than You Do party.  There was also plenty of time to be alone.  Even though they had been getting on each other's nerves before they had taken the break, by the end of the second week they were already seeking each other out, inviting one another out for dinner or drinks or just goofing off.

 

It took a while to notice but after the football fiasco, Brian dropped off from everyone's radar.  More and more the question popped up:  "Hey, have you seen Brian?" It didn't matter who Matt was talking to, the question was eventually posed.

 "Nope, not after he left my house Tuesday morning after falling asleep on the couch."  This was Matt's patented answer to anyone who asked.  Zack however, was the only one worried enough to actually want to send out a search party. 

"I'm telling you, Matt! It's been five days!  He isn't answering his phone or the door!"

"Is his car there?"

"No, but.."

 "Well then he's on a trip or something."

 "But the tv is on, I can hear it through the door."

"Maybe he forgot to turn it off!!"

 "But no one's heard from him!"  Zack whined.

 "He's probably face down in some girl's cooch and doesn't want your gay ass bothering him!  Ya ever think of that?!"

 This shut Zack up, but three days later he was beating on Matt's door again.

 "Go check on him!  Maybe you're right, maybe I've done something to piss him off.  I bet he'll open the door for you."

 "I doubt that."

"What?"

"Nothing!"  Caught by his own big mouth Matt finally relented and agreed, very reluctantly, to go check on Brian.

 It would have only taken one well placed kick to break the lock on Brian's front door.  However, on further inspection, the back door that lead into the kitchen was shut but not locked.

 

"Brian?"  Matt called out, sticking his head in the door and looking around, half expecting to find Brian screwing someone else on the kitchen floor.  He was met with relative silence so he let himself the rest of the way in.

 

The kitchen was a dump.  Brian had never been the most fastidious about cleaning but the sight that greeted Matt was ridiculous.  The garbage was overflowing on to the floor, the sink contained rancid spoons and plates and there were spills and burn marks on every surface of the room.  The stench made Matt stagger back and prop open the back door just so he could get a breath of clean air.

 

“Brian?!”  He called again but got no answer.  The next thing Matt noticed as he moved on toward the living room was the unbearable warmth of the house.  He glanced at the thermostat and while it was not set for the heater, the temperature was nearly ninety degrees, rivaling what it was outside.  He flipped the switch to the a/c side and kept going.  There was something not quite right about the living room but he was too worried to stop long enough to try and figure out what it was.

 

Finally he located Brian, sprawled out on top of his bed, a pillow covering his face with his arm thrown over the pillow, fully clothed and apparently breathing.

 

“Brian?  Bri, you okay?”   Fear had replaced pride as Matt hurried over and nudged the inert form.  From beneath the pillow Brian mumbled and rolled over away from the sound of Matt’s voice.

 

*Well, he’s here, he’s alive…he’s….*  Matt thought to himself, taking a breath.  *he’s filthy, he stinks, he’s wearing long sleeves even though it’s a fucking sauna in here.  What is going on?!*

 

Just then his phone rang.  It made Matt jump but Brian didn’t move at all.  As he got up to retrieve the phone from his pocket he noticed a wastebasket next to bed and instinctively glanced inside.  Immediately he wished he hadn’t as Brian had been using it to vomit into and had not thrown it out.   Well, he had located the source of the smell at least.  He flipped the phone open, saw it was Zack calling, took a deep breath as he turned away and answered.

 

“Hey.  I’m here.”  He said, pacing his way into the bathroom.  “Yeah, he’s here.  He’s asleep.  Something………I don’t know.  Something is just not right.  I think he’s sick or something.  Maybe a fever or a stomach thing.  This house is sweltering and he’s in bed all covered up and he’s been throwing up.  He doesn’t look good.”  Matt flipped on the light and was about to cradle the phone against his ear so he could wash his hands.  That’s when he saw the connect-the-dots pattern of blood droplets scattered all over the floor.  “Zack, let me call you back.  No, no.  Don’t come over right now.  This place is a wreck and who knows if what he has is catching.  Just wait for me to call you, okay?”

 

Matt hurried to the bed and pushed up the sleeves of Brian’s shirt but when he saw his friend’s wrists were smooth and unblemished, he stopped, confused.   “Brian?”  He asked again, softer his time as he bit at his lip nervously.  There was no response.  “Brian! Wake up!”  He implored, louder.

 

Brian began to stir but before Matt could react to that, a car stopped outside, a door opened and closed and he heard footsteps.

 

*That better not be Zack.*  Matt shook his head angrily as he stood up.  Just then a key turned in the lock of the front door and the door creaked open.  Zack did not have a key.  Matt didn’t have a key.  Matt didn’t know  anyone who would have a key to Brian’s house.  Matt hurried to meet the key carrying intruder.

 

“Who the fuck are you?!”  Matt  demanded of the black clad man with the sunken eyes who was keeping one hand conspicuously in his pocket as he walked into Brian’s house like he belonged there.

 

“Where is he?”  The man asked back, obviously knowing where Brian was as he started toward his bedroom.

 

“He’s sick! What do you want with him?!”

 

“Well yeah, he’s sick.  He hasn’t fixed in two days.  I’m sorry it took so long and he had to go to you but I couldn’t get a line on any fresh needles.”

 

The statement was said so matter-of-factly and yet the words themselves and the meaning they carried were like a mace slamming into the side of Matt’s skull.  For a moment he was so completely stunned he let the man walk past him.

 

“Stay away from him.”  Matt growled, wheeling around.

 

“What?”

”Stay the fuck away from him!”  Matt grabbed the man by the arm and reached into the pocket of his jacked, pulling out the bag he was holding on to.  As he did plastic syringes tinkled to the floor like keys of a xylophone.

 

“Son of a bitch.”  Matt whispered.  He might have heard wrong but he knew what he was seeing.

 

“Listen, bro.  I don’t mind if you’re selling to him too.  I’m not here to take away your territory.  He paid me in advance and I owe him.  Just let me give him what’s his cuz I don’t want anyone looking for me.  Ya said he’s sick?  Well this is gonna perk him right up.  Just step aside and---!”

 

The man never finished.  Matt had long since stopped thinking of him as a man, as human, as something deserving to live.  He couldn’t even put a classification on him, jackals deserved to live, didn’t they.  Rabid dogs?  Maybe.  What this man represented was beyond all rational thought, it was sickness, it was evil, it did not deserve to coexist in Matt’s world.   It was something to be destroyed.

 

(end chapter, sorry it was short but I wanted to post something for those wanting me to further the story. J

Time for an informal poll:  Would it be redundant in a later chapter to have Zack slug Matt at some point?   In How You Remind Me, Matt beat up Zack, in Unmasked Fear, Zack slugged Matt, ripping out his lip ring, and he slugged him with a set of keys in Every Me, Every You.  Is it too clichéd to have him hit Matt again or do some of you enjoy it?  :P  )