At the house, Shawn found his roommate on one end of the couch, browsing through his spiral road map book, red marker in his hand as he highlighted routes. With the red cap between his teeth, Dean focused more on the map than the front door opening.

“What are you working on?” Shawn sat at the other end of the couch.

“Mark has me working on a little surveillance,” Dean’s words sounded muffled with the cap in his mouth.

“Can I see?” he leaned over to view the map. He saw several X’s marked in a nearby neighborhood. There was a circle on the map, in a vaguely familiar spot to Shawn.

“No,” Dean shut the book and slid the red cap from one side of his mouth to the other. “How was your date with Jules?”

“Date is a relative term,” Shawn stood up and grabbed a folder from their chaise couch.

“I mean, you two are a couple, yet she’s dating our boss,” Dean said.

“Not anymore,” Shawn flopped on the armless leather couch.

“They broke up?” Dean asked.

Shawn opened the folder, but before he can read anything, Dean snatched it out of his hands. “You can’t trust your best friend?”

Dean sat beside him, “Did Mark and Julie break up?”

“It's worse, we broke up.” Dean spat out his marker cap.

“You can forget it,” Dean knew after every breakup Shawn would get caught in a downward spiral of drugs and alcohol.

“Things are going from good to bad, and you’re the only person to get me out,” Shawn pleaded. “But, I need something to loosen me up.”

“Forget it. That’s the same crap you told Jules,” Dean said. “I’m not being stuck in the middle of your downward spiral.”

“Come on, you know what I need.”

Stolen novel; please report.

“I’m sorry, but alcohol and substance abuse go hand in hand,” Dean explained. “Soon, that goodwill turns bad, and then things turn from bad to worse.”

“Not if I get what I need!”

“This is crazy. You do this every time you’re upset, but you can fix this like last time,” Dean explained. “You can find a new girl.”

“This is not like Amanda—”

“Yes, you could search for Amanda,” Dean said.

“No, that selfish brat broke up with me on my birthday. Who the hell does that? I’m sure she’s somewhere doped up rotting in an alley.”

“You two were practically made for each,” Dean responded.

“Screw you too, Dean.”

“Whatever,” he said. Dean grabbed his map and folder and headed to his room. “One more thing,” he stood in the doorway. “You have a message on the machine.”

A dozen ways of how to murder your roommate ran through Shawn’s head, then POOF, gone. It lapsed right as Dean shut his room door. Shawn pressed the flashing button on the answering machine.

“Hey, Shawn,” Curt’s monotone playful voice rose from the speaker. “Mark wants to meet tonight at the bar. Stay available, I’m picking you up.”

Great.

“This message will self-destruct in five, four, three—”What?

“Just kidding ya, man,” Curt said, followed by a beep.Click. Message erased.

Shawn didn’t want to stay sober, nor did he want to meet his boss but knew what Mark would make Curt do to him if Shawn met him intoxicated, so he flopped on the couch for a nap. A nap sounds a little irresponsible. Maybe I should try a game? He grabbed his Game Boy and inserted the cart of Russia’s greatest export: Tetris.

Meanwhile, Mark continued his personal surveillance in the bar. It was only a matter of time, Mark thought as he sipped his beer. Only a matter of time before you went back to your old habits, dope, and Smack from your supplier Lance. You’re too predictable, girl.

He watched her try to dance with Lance, but she was too stoned to maintain coordination as she tripped over her own feet while wearing a pair of flats.

What do you see in this girl Shawn? She’s a complete mess succumbed to her addictions again. In life, you only get a second chance. If you don’t learn from your first mistake, well, when will you? Your fifth screw-up? Maybe the twelfth?

This nation gives too many opportunities, but burning bridges twice comes off as a habit. Keep this up, and you’ll sober up at thirty something and try to live a normal life as a born-again Christian. There you’ll discover you’ve got hepatitis from all the dirty needles. People would say, “stay strong,” and you’d disappoint them by putting a bullet in your head. Leads not healthy bitch.

Mark laughed aloud. I should start saying that.

The moment he laughed, Amanda looked his way, and fear stiffened her spine. Lance’s face of confusion made Amanda recover in a flustered mess. Her hands waved everywhere, including brushing her hair behind her ear. She finally grabbed Lance and slow danced with him to the tune of Bon Jovi’s Blaze of Glory. Despite being lost, her dealer played along as his back faced Mark. The addict peaked over Lance’s shoulder and looked at her adversary.

“Lead’s not healthy bitch,” Mark said.