Josh.mp4 - 3. Passing out in an alley

Chapter 2. Passing out in an alley

I walk past the bus station, hands in my pockets, walking slowly on purpose. I wonder if the fact that I'm not crying makes me a horrible person in some way. It's like this is one of those moments when you're supposed to cry, except I don't feel like doing it. All I have is a kind of numb emptiness that won't go away, and of course the guilt. I don't know. I feel like I could sort it all out if I had enough time, if I didn't have to go back to my parents’ house later tonight and explain where I’ve been. If I go to the cliffs I'll be back after nightfall, and even though my mom hasn't said anything directly to me I know that some small part of her is afraid that I might try to copy what Nathan did even though that’s insane. I'm not going to do that, of course, but it makes me uncomfortable that she would even think I could. The way she looks at me now over breakfast, as if trying to read my mind to make sure I'm okay, is awful. I know she only does it because she cares about me, but at the same time I can't stand it. If I arrive late today, it's going to be even worse. But whatever. I still feel like I really have to get away from everybody for a while.

My thoughts circle around in my head again and again and I wonder if I'm making any sense, even to myself. It's like I'm stuck in a cycle of remembering. One of my fingers touches the small memory card stuffed in my pocket and I hastily draw my hand back; I don't even want to think about what I might find in there, but I had to take it. I have to know. I wonder if Nathan made some kind of last video at the hospital. I checked his channel online two days ago and there was nothing, but that doesn't mean he did not make anything at all. I wonder if it will be some sort of message, and the thought creeps me out. Or maybe the card will be blank, which is actually much more likely, and I stole it for nothing.

I turn right at the next street and take a shortcut through an alley that is deserted and empty right now, but which will come alive as soon as the sun sets. There are couple of bars in the area and one of them in particular has a side entrance that opens directly into this alley. It's called Wilderness. I know it very well. I once passed out in this very alley, and Nathan had to come pick me up. It was weird that he came, because we were not even friends then. As I pass by the dumpster in which I puked that night months ago, the thought occurs to me that maybe that was the day when we started hanging out for real.

Yeah. That sounds about right.

It was the first weekend after school had started. There was a back-to-school party that was supposed to start at Wilderness and from there go to some other club, but most of the high school seniors ended up spending the entire night there, and I had come along with them. I still didn't know anybody very well, although I had started to talk to a few people here and there and I had discovered that the tryouts for the soccer team would be held the following week. One of the seniors, Mark, was the team captain and had told me to come along to the party, which I was only too glad to do.

We all got blind drunk. By midnight, I was best friends with everybody there, stumbling this way and that chatting away and just plain having fun. The music stopped sucking and I sang along to a few tracks with my new buddies. Mark introduced me to some of the other guys from the team, and I got to know them a little too. They were pretty cool, laid-back dudes for the most part. We talked little but drank a lot. I was looking forward to the tryouts and so were they.

Later, things got livelier. Music got louder. A few of the girls started dancing at one point, and one of them caught my eye right away.

"Hey," I asked the nearest guy, another senior I had seen in the hallway once, and was also in the soccer team. Harvey. "Dude, what's her name?"

Harvey grinned. "The brunette?"

"Yeah," I answered, my beer sloshing in its plastic cup.

"That's Kate," he told me. "Senior year, plays the violin. And she's unattached at the moment, new guy."

"Awesome," I told him.

He gave me a playful shove. "Go on, go introduce yourself."

I looked at her and took a long swig from my cup. "Maybe later."

Harvey grinned knowingly. "Need to drink some more bravery?"

"Fuck off," I told him, grinning too.

I walked a bit closer to see her better. She was hot: petite body, nice ass, long curly hair that swayed and tumbled around her as she danced to the beat. She was amazing, and probably way out of my league, but I was drunk enough to promise myself to try and talk to her—after the song was over, of course. I drank some more.

In the end, I ended up not even getting the chance since Kate disappeared at one point and I couldn't find her. Instead I ended up sitting at a table with a bunch of potheads who insisted they knew the owner and he was totally cool with them smoking inside, and so I stupidly ended up getting high as well as drunk. It was my first time doing it, and the last. Instead of feeling awesome like the guy next to me was claiming I would feel, I started getting really dizzy and nauseated halfway through the second joint. I left the table, meaning to go to the bathroom and puke, but I got turned around in the maze of chairs and tables and people standing everywhere and ended up opening the door that led outside, into the cold alley. Thankfully, the open dumpster was clearly visible under the flickering yellow glare of the one lamp set over the back door. I rushed forward and barely managed to grab its sides and throw up inside it rather than all over myself. When I was done I staggered backwards, feeling like the floor was tilting under my feet, going from side to side and forcing me to shift my balance to compensate. I tripped over something and made the mistake of trying to stay upright. Then I just fell on my ass right there in the street, tried to stand up, and passed out.

I woke up some time later because somebody was gently kicking me in the ribs.

"Hey. Josh. Are you dead?"

I mumbled something unintelligible and opened my eyes a tiny bit. The brightness of the lamp was unbearable, and the floor was still moving under me. I closed them again.

"Well, at least you're not dead," the person was saying. "Can you walk?"

Another kick. It forced me to shift onto my side, which was good since right then my stomach heaved and I puked a second time. I barely had enough time to push myself away from the mess before it got onto my clothes.

"Jesus, man," the guy standing nearby was saying. "What the hell did you take?"

"Unhh…" was all I managed. I looked up and blearily saw it was Nathan standing there, arms crossed over his chest and a mildly amused expression on his face.

Nathan sighed. "Okay, I guess I'll have to carry you, sort of. Come on. Just don't vomit on me, okay?"

"Mmmkay."

He knelt beside me and I felt a tug on one of my elbows, pulling me up. I leaned heavily on the grip and stumbled onto my feet. I was cold, I was nauseated and I had a horrible headache already.

"You're a mess," Nathan commented, as he slung one of my arms over his neck and started walking forward. I lurched along as best as I could. "You're lucky this was my midnight video night."

I felt like saying something, but all my concentration was taken up in trying not to vomit and in walking - so I kept my mouth shut. It was hard going, and the longer I walked the more my head pounded. All I could think of was sitting one foot ahead of the other, following Nathan blindly to wherever he was taking me. Step, step. Then steady, only not—leaning on Nathan, swaying back and forth. The trek seemed to take forever, and when we finally stopped in front of a door, my knees buckled and almost gave way.

"Easy, buddy," Nathan said, more quietly this time, pushing open the door, like he was trying not to wake anybody. We were inside a house now. It was really dark. "Just follow me up the stairs, okay?"

I did, stubbing my foot twice on unfamiliar furniture hidden in the shadows. I had no idea where I was and I didn’t care; I only wanted to lie down. Then there was finally a couch or a bed or something a few steps away, and I collapsed onto it gratefully. Nathan was saying something but I ignored him. I just closed my eyes and went to sleep.

The next day, when I woke up, my eyes felt gritty. One side of my hips hurt where I had slept over the sharp contours of the keys in my pocket all night, and as soon as I moved my head the pounding headache came back. Music was playing loudly as well, and it was not helping at all.

"Oh, man," I groaned, sitting up ever so slowly.

"Well, you survived," Nathan said from somewhere nearby.

I looked around, surprised at being in a completely unfamiliar room. It was a small bedroom, with a slanting roof overhead, one big window through which bright sunlight was streaming in and a rather large desk full of electronic equipment. Nathan was sitting at the desk, facing a really big computer monitor. A nice stereo rig was arranged all around him, blasting out the music with heavy bass that made my skull pound with each beat.

"Where…?" I croaked, then cleared my throat. I couldn’t decide if I should cover my ears or my eyes. "Where am I?"

Nathan turned around in his chair. "You're in my room, of course."

Sure enough, Nathan’s bed was off to one side. I discovered I had spent the night on some kind of tiny couch. Nathan saw me looking.

"Sorry, but I couldn't let you have the bed. I wasn't sure you wouldn't puke all over it."

"What?" I asked, puzzled.

Nathan rolled his eyes. "You can thank me now, you know. From saving you from spending the night in an alley?"

I blinked, and the events of the night before came crashing down on top of my memory. "What the hell did I do last night?"

"I don't know, and frankly I don't care," Nathan said, turning back to his computer. He clicked something and the track that was playing changed to something even more violent. And more skull-rending.

"Nathan, do you mind? Turn it down!" I demanded, covering my ears.

"You must have a hell of a hangover," Nathan answered, chuckling. He did turn the music down, though.

I nodded for an answer, and then regretted even that slight motion. "You wouldn't believe it. I don't think I've ever been so fucked up before."

Nathan was silent for a while, working at his computer. He took so long that I thought he had decided to ignore me, so I stood up slowly and located the bathroom door right outside his bedroom. I took a leak, washed my face and rinsed my mouth. My eyes were reddened, my hair was plastered to my skull on one side; I looked a wreck. I took my phone out and saw several missed calls from my mother. I texted her I was fine and then shut the phone off before she could call and demand where I had been. I was in no mood to deal with one of her rants. I then drank about a gallon of water from the tap.

I came out of the bathroom feeling slightly better, but the hangover was killing me.

"You look like shit," Nathan said helpfully, glancing at me as I trudged back into his room.

"Thanks," I grumbled. "Are you always so damn reassuring and comforting?"

I plopped down on Nathan’s bed, stretching out on the softness.

"Hey!" he protested. "Get off of there!"

"I won't vomit on your covers," I told him, crossing my arms over my face to shield my eyes from the sunlight. "And if I do, it's what you get for waking me up with that awful noise."

Nathan stopped the music with a click. "I should've just left you in the alley."

"What were you doing there, even?" I asked him. "Just prowling around in the dark? I didn't see you at the party."

"I don't do parties," Nathan answered me. "And I told you yesterday, although I think you were too wasted to remember. It was my midnight film night. I go out, late at night, and see if I can't film anything interesting. You’d be surprised at how different things are once everybody's asleep."

"That sounds like something a serial killer would do."

Nathan said nothing.

I uncrossed my arms, squinted against the glare, and reluctantly sat up on his bed. "Hey. Nathan."

He turned to look at me. "What?"

"Sorry I'm being such a prick," I said sincerely, getting unsteadily on my feet again. "I apologize. My head is killing me, man. And also thanks for bringing me here. I owe you one."

I held out my hand for him to shake. Nathan regarded it suspiciously for a second, and then smiled and shook it. He looked at me in a completely different way; the expression transformed his face for an instant, and I found myself smiling in return.

"Apology accepted," he told me. "And I do understand. I've had a few really bad hangovers before, and I usually just end up shutting myself in here all day until it passes. I also drink my hangover cure, of course."

"Hangover cure? Does it work?"

Nathan nodded. "Yeah! If you can drink it. It involves raw egg and lots of Tabasco sauce."

I grimaced. "That sounds nasty."

"It's effective, though."

"I don't know…" I said.

"I don't think you can feel any worse, though. Right?" Nathan asked me.

"You got a point there. Yeah. I’m feeling so bad that I think I want to give it try."

"Cool! Let's go downstairs then. I've got all the stuff we need in there."

"Are you sure it will work?" I asked.

"Totally. It works for me every time."

"I might throw up again."

"I’m willing to take that risk."

"Okay then. Lead the way."

We went down to the kitchen, and as we were walking past a clock I saw it was nearly one p.m. already. That was a new record of late waking up for me.

"You got a nice house," I commented, looking around. "Everything’s so… neat."

"I told you my stepdad is a neat freak," Nathan told me. "If it were up to him, he'd probably have me catalogue and label every single thing I own in my room, and dust and clean it five times a day. I hate that. He never leaves me alone."

"Yeah," I commiserated. "My mom also makes me clean my room once a week."

"It's nothing like this," Nathan snapped, frowning. "I hate my stepdad. I hate the way he treats me, the way he wants everything to be perfect and nice. I'm not like that, okay?"

"Dude, chill," I said.

Nathan shrugged and changed topic again. "Okay, here's the kitchen. Trust me, you will love this remedy. Takes care of hangover like magic."

I helped Nathan blend the disgusting mixture of ingredients all together. When the stuff was ready, I almost threw up just thinking about drinking it. I poured the glass and downed the entire thing in one go before I could chicken out. It tasted awful.

"That was gross!" I exclaimed, wiping my mouth.

Nathan grinned. "But effective. You'll see. Oh, here's some aspirin, as well."

I took the aspirin, praying that my headache would go away. Nathan was opening the fridge, looking for stuff to eat. "You're probably not hungry now," he told me, "but there's frozen pizza for later, if you want to stay."

“Um….” I said, not at all wanting to stay much longer with him.

But then I thought about going back to my mother and her sure-to-come lecture regarding safety and how it had been the whole point of moving here, after the incident at my old school, so I could be away from ‘temptation’…

"Sure," I said impulsively. "I'd rather not go home until later."

"Awesome. Let’s go upstairs."

I poured myself some water and followed Nathan back up. Weirdly enough, I was feeling a little better.

"Hey, Nathan. I think your cure is working."

"Told you. It never fails when I get drunk."

"I thought you said you didn't do parties, though. Where do you get drunk?"

"I usually just drink alone, in my room. Then I do crazy stuff. I've gotten some hilarious videos of myself out of that. Even uploaded a couple of them to my channel."

"No way. Can I watch?"

He hesitated.

"Oh, come on, man. If you upload them to YouTube, then it means you want the entire world to see. Right?"

"I guess… and they are pretty funny," he admitted.

"See? Come on, let's watch."

"Okay. Close the door."

We spent the rest of the afternoon watching videos on the Internet. Some of them were Nathan's, from his channel. He had a hilarious one where he was trying to read Shakespeare while being falling-down drunk. We roared with laughter, particularly in the part where he tried to climb on top of a stool for a climactic dialogue sequence and ended up falling on his face instead.

There were cat videos on his channel, as promised, but there were also a few that were more complex. He had this one video where he had basically followed a plastic bag all over town, stitching the scenes together as the wind blew it this way and that, all set through a classy-looking black-and-white filter and with an instrumental soundtrack in the background.

"Dude, that was really good," I told him what it was over.

He actually blushed. "You think so?"

"Yeah! You edited the thing pretty well! It must have taken you ages to follow that stupid bag around."

"I spent an entire Saturday doing it," he admitted. "I hadn't even planned on filming it; it was just garbage. But then—I don't know. Something about it caught my eye."

"Well, you’re really good at this filming stuff. It's a shame you don't have any more subscribers on your channel."

"I'm working on that," he answered. "All I need is one big viral hit, you know. One video with more than 100,000 views. If I get that, I can really start getting my name out there. Maybe even set up small ads at the beginning of the videos like the big channels do now. Apply for a YouTube partnership. If I can build a reputation online, then maybe I can actually do this for a living."

I raised an eyebrow. "Make YouTube videos? For a living?"

Nathan nodded enthusiastically. "Once you get the ball rolling it's really easy. I studied how other people have done it. You set up secondary channels, link up with other YouTube celebrities and then do collaborations with them. Then of course you set up your merch shop online, with T-shirts and such. Try to get featured on the front page. I don't do animation, so I can't really going to, say, Newgrounds or anything, but if I find a good niche, I can make videos on the same topic forever. I mean, come on! Look at Fred, you know, the squeaky-voiced guy from way back. Look at that one girl that does makeup tutorials. There’s even a taxidermist that went viral, for fuck’s sake! It's not so much about the content as about finding the right community."

"Sounds like you've really thought this through," I said.

"Yes," Nathan confirmed, his look excited and intense. "If I'm successful, I won't have to do the whole college thing which my stepdad wants me to do. I don't want to move on to some big city, and I really don't want to work in a place with lots of other people."

"Uh… working with other people is sort of inevitable, though," I told him. "You can't just never talk to anyone."

"But I can work from home! And that would be awesome!"

I nodded, thinking it over. "Well, working while wearing nothing but boxers all day and drinking a beer does sound pretty cool."

"I know, right?"

"You know what you should do for a new video?" I said suddenly. "Hangover cures. At least this one, man. It works! I mean, I only took it like two hours ago and my headache is gone. No hangover at all."

"You think so, Josh?"

"Yeah! It will go viral! I mean, who doesn't want to know about a hangover cure that works?"

He nodded thoughtfully. "You're right. That's gonna be my next project."

"And if you need witnesses, sort of like documentary-style crap where you have a guy providing testimony of how awesome your cure is, I can totally do that. You can interview me if you want."

"Really?"

"Of course! You did spare me a night of sleeping beside a dumpster, after all."

Nathan smiled. "Wow. Thanks, Josh. I think… I think you're the first person ever to take me and my videos seriously."

I clapped him on the shoulder. "Glad to help."

I stayed for a bit later, but then I made the mistake of turning on my phone again and I got so many calls from home that I had to go back. I faced the usual expected rant from my mother and then went upstairs to my own room, thinking that Nathan had the right idea already thinking about the future and what he wanted to do. I honestly hadn't given it much thought besides a vague idea of having to apply for college next year. I didn't even know if that’s what I wanted to do with my life, though. Maybe it was time I started planning for real.

I went to sleep at night thinking that this town was pretty cool. I was still determined to talk to that hot girl, Kate, and I had already met an interesting guy to hang out with. Now all I needed to do was make it into the soccer team the following week. Everything was looking really good.