Another Story from Inside

Tessa was dying. Ben knew that.

As surely as he couldn't remember the sun, he couldn't remember a time without her. Despite the fact that she was younger than him (a fact which amounted to naught there), she had been at the party much longer than he had. She couldn't imagine living without it, and now it was killing her.

Ben had fallen for her, he didn't know how long ago. He would have said "God knows how long ago," but he knew that they had no God. God simply did not exist there.

A newcomer on the scene, Ben had learned everything he knew from Tessa. She had relished combining her party life with that of a mother hen of sorts - one that had no problem with incest.

Neither of them were sure if they could call it romance. Not in a place like that. It was what it was.

Ben knew it wasn't going to last. Every instant, every hit, every drink, every fuck, everything brought Tessa closer to the nothing that surrounded their world. She had lost control before they ever met, and he knew she was going to crash. But he couldn't leave her.

As he walked with her away from the noise, away from the crowd, and into the familiar stairwell, his left hand held his pipe in his pocket while the right had his lighter flick-flicking out in front of him.

Minutes later, he watched Tessa, the hash burning away, the pipe to her lips. After taking a hit, she held her breath and leaned forward to kiss him. He let it all in, the smoke crossing from her lungs to his - but Tessa dissolved the bond in a fit of coughing.

"Sorry..." she managed, offering up the pipe and lighter to him.

"You okay?" he asked.

"Yeah," she replied between coughs, and smiled.

He lit what was left in the bowl and, closing his eyes, took as big a hit as he could. It didn't help that he could still see her. All the times he'd found her passed out. The time she'd choked on her own vomit. All those times that he was holding onto, despite the party's efforts to make him forget. How could he forget? Those moments had become so many he couldn't distinguish individual instances any more.

He realized he was just inhaling ash and opened his eyes.

And saw Tessa's staring into his. She seemed to be in one of her lucid moments, now.

"Ben... do you love me?"

He stopped. Put the pipe and lighter down on the step.

"Ben..."

He took her head in both hands, brought his face right up to hers, and kissed her. For what seemed like-

eternity.

Which perhaps it was.

"But do you love me?"

Back to the (n)ever-changing present.

"Tessa... do we even know what that means?" The only answer he could think of.

"No... I guess not," she replied, her eyes already starting to glaze over. "Come on, Ben, let's get back in there. The vibe should be getting good around now."

He picked his implements up from the stair and they returned, hand in hand. Maybe this would be her last round. She was already talking about the amazing coke that Brad had stashed away under a certain couch. He knew he couldn't stop her. And that was what made her.