Bad Seed

“It’s always nice to watch them run free,” I said.

“And the sunsets here are spectacular. Whenever I can get Elsie to stay, it’s my favorite part of this place,” Tammy said.

“Well, maybe I could share it with you guys one night,” I said.

The three of us sat there talking, and I found it to be therapeutic. Between my classes and my work, I didn’t have much time to socialize. In fact, I didn’t have time to socialize at all. I studied, I worked, and I turned in schoolwork online. That was the extent of the past three and a half years of my life. It was nice, talking with them. Elsie was refreshingly honest, which I figured was probably a part of her being on the spectrum. Tammy was laid back. Someone I could see myself getting to know if I had the time. She wasn’t high strung, and I could tell she cared about Elsie.

And in Elsie’s own way, I could tell she cared about Tammy, too.

But when Drake didn’t come back from downstairs, I left to go find him. It was nice to talk with everyone, but if I was no longer needed here, then there were things I had to do. I ventured up the stairs and walked down the hallway, dipping my head into rooms to see if I could find him.

“Drake?” I asked. “You up here?”

I heard a long sigh, and I followed it through the door it came

from. I walked into a room that was dark and dank, with clothes scattered about and the closet thrown open haphazardly. There were doors cracked open, revealing a private balcony at the opposite end of the room.

And there he sat.

With a beer tipped up to his lips.

Navigating my way through the bomb that had gone off in his room, I crinkled my nose and made it to the balcony, then slipped out beside him to try and talk. But his eyes were glassy, and his stare was far off.

I wondered how much alcohol he had already ingested just this morning.

It was clear that I needed to work on a plan to get him clean. If I framed his sobriety in the right light, it would be an easy task. Tell him his sister depended on his income and that Paul’s job and the life of the ranch depended on his ability to keep doing what he was doing. It was clear to me that he didn’t feel he was worth anything, despite his fame and fortune.

That was my goal for the day.

“What?” Drake asked.

“We’ve confirmed the details of your tour. Is there anything else you need from me?” I asked.

His eyes turned up toward me as his breath fluttered up my nose. I could smell the beer and bourbon on his breath. I tried to keep my personal disgust at bay as I gritted my teeth, forcing a smile across my cheeks.

Being alone with a drunk was always a vulnerable position to be in.

“Nope,” he said, as his eyes raked down my legs. “That’ll be all.”

“Then I’ll see you on Wednesday. At the record label.”

“Yep.”

“Call or email if you need me before then,” I said.

“Sure.”

“And try not to throw yourself off this balcony.”

I watched his back straighten as he got to his feet, stumbling as he caught himself against the railing.

“Go,” Drake said.

“Not until you come inside and lay down,” I said.

“Like you give a shit.”

“Come on,” I said, as I stood by the door. “In to bed with you.”