Miami's Undertone

E

Edna

Guest
Original poster
It was 3AM, the barren drape of a late-night serene was disrupted by a drunken stupor. With a glass at hand, the finished elixir said to guarantee permanent solace, Reed remained inclined in his second reality, both body and soul plunged into what remnants he had left for his will to live. Tilted back, his consciousness spiralled into a dark abyss as the presumptuous resort to suicide triggered a wavering regret, the promising purpose left unfulfilled now ebbed away.

Reed accustomed himself to the ideals of diligence and success through his history as a student -- crowned valedictorian, persistent involvement, a reliability -- it was an impression sought by many. His future, his purpose, cradled in his arms… then addiction struck its ploy, happiness' nonexistence or happiness' manic insatiability. Either way, there was no way to win.

Glass littered the floor in a violent avalanche, creating a trail of errant stone that led to the horror of surrender. Awoken by the shatter, a mistress he hired clacked in polished reds down the corridor to investigate. “Oh Reeeeeed,” She purred. “Having fun without me, I see?” The mistress lost her identity after affiliating with Reed, more men than just him. She was a nameless, disowned. She delivered the favors of a companion in exchange for finance, or that was what others thought. Being penniless did not matter; being unloved became her greatest poverty, and that urgency propelled her to her transitory conquest, to be loved again.

Clouded, agape eyes greeted the mistress in a silent scream. Set us free, they called. Spying the sight of Reed’s body, a macabre confection, the mistress muttered, “R-Reed?...” No response followed besides the subtle, white noise of the television mourning the incident. “Reed… Reed, wake up already!” Over and over again, she repeated his name until she felt herself heaving through a veil of tears. Tonight reserved no room for her usual coquetry.

@WagonDaisy