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"I said leave me alone. I'm not totally drunk." My words were too slurry to possibly make sense, but he seemed to understand and let me walk to my room without assistance. He still had to catch me more than three times, when I lost my balance after tripping on something nonexistent. I opened my door aftermultiple failed attempts and fell into the bean bag instead of the bed. Quietly, Alessandro entered the bathroom and brought out a small bucket.
"What for?" I quizzed, puzzled.
"I'm sure you'll figure it out soon enough," he replied and stayed with me for a while before leaving. I did find use for the bucket and only realized it in the morning when the stench of alcohol mixed with stomach digestive fluid in the bucket hit my nose.
It was a Friday, exactly one week now since my dad died. I went to his grave to see him. By now, the sculptor I had contacted had replaced his tombstone with a proper stone. I traced the writing of his name on the stone: Aryan Arif Asghar. If you took only his initials, it was AAA. There was nothing specific tied to that combination. I just found it unique. I made small chats with him, telling him about my week and about Alessandro, the angel he sent to help me through this tough time. I ended the conversation in tears and dropped the Black Iris flowers I knew he loved so much. I even had a sketch of the flowers engraved on his tombstone, something he had requested for even before his death.
I stood up and wandered around the vicinity. I looked halfheartedly for a place to lounge myself in and I found the perfect spot. I could have just ordered a taxi to take me to Fauxwood's, but I was so aggrieved with the place, I'm sure I'd have made at least an attempt to burn it down if I stayed there more than an hour.
The neon lights glowed in the twilight, giving the place an alluring invite.
'Picasso...' I mouthed the name of the place as I entered. The entire set up was not as good as Fauxwood's, but for its price, the place was pretty decent. Agreed, the entire room was probably not even as big as Fauxwood's casino, but it'll do. Besides, after thirty minutes of game play with the current gamblers, I knew I'd get home late.
I let the buzz flood me again and for the next few hours, completely forgetting everything that had plagued me the past week. The moment I held those dice, the moment I dropped those stakes, all of a sudden, I felt like I had more to lose than ever in the present moment even with a stake of fifty bucks. After a few games of poker and good old roulette, I said my farewell to the players and began to count my spoils. Unsurprisingly, I didn't make much, given how much I put in. It was already late, but I didn't bother to check my phone. At this point, I tried to decipher if it was a risk worth taking. My crave said a big "yes" to continue well into the night, but my other more logical side tried to reason with me. I blocked the positive voice and got fully lectured by the king of wickedness.
I spent the next three or so hours drinking and waltzing as much as my tipsy body could carry me, careful not to drink too much to reserve a little sanity for the journey home.
Getting home, with the music still pounding relentlessly in my head despite its absence, I walk in through the door to find Alessandro, sitting on the chair, watching me expectantly.
I took a dramatic bow and smiled as I slurred. "Bonjour, monsieur."
"Where the hell have you been?" was his response to my greeting.
I frowned.
"None of your business," I said as I crossed my hands haphazardly and tumbled forward away from the open door.
"Sienna!" Alessandro stood up and began making his way towards me. I thought he was coming for me, so I held up a defensive fist, but he shoved me, fist, and form aside and went over to the door to slam it shut and lock it. "What time do you think it is?" he scolded.
"Does it matter?"
"Yessssssssss!" he screamed. I just laughed at how contorted his figure looked under the influence of the alcohol.
"I think there's something wrong with your suit," I chuckled.
"See, this is what I'm saying. I'm not wearing a suit!" He raked his arms all over himself in exasperation. "How on earth did you ever come back home without getting assaulted? Would you even know if you were molested in this state? Ugh. You're not doing yourself any good."
"Let me live my life. I'm an adult!" I yelled back.
"I'm also an adult, Sienna. Look at me, I..."
"No," I pouted.
"No, what?" He looked puzzled.
"No, I refuse to look at you."
"Fuck. You're too drunk to reason with." He face-palmed himself.
"No, I'm not, you're just not intelligent enough," I countered.
"Really?" He raised his brows then held up three fingers. "How many fingers am I holding up?"
"Potatoes."
"Yup. Too drunk..."
"I was kidding. It's three." I rolled my eyes, then plopped on the couch and stretched my legs. "Ooh! It's been so long since I danced so much. Alessandro, one of these days, you should come with me...to the club. You'll see why I don't want to stop going there."
