I woke up sweating like I'd been giving the sun a hug and a pat on the back. I hadn't even fallen asleep with the sheets over me yet it felt like my skin itself was melting.

I rolled onto my side with a groan, glancing at the bedside clock I'd brought which read 7:50 am. Out of complete force of habit and admittedly junkie-like longing, I reached under my bed, failing to realize this miniature room wasn't my normal bedroom, nor was there a beer bottle waiting patiently for me.

I did what any self-respecting citizen does when they can't find their tea or coffee that prepares them for the day ahead. 

I panicked.

An overbearing tidal wave of dread attacked my stomach, quickly spreading to my whole body until it felt like I was having a panic attack. The beginnings of the headache hadn't been slept off, rather it was in full bloom, patiently awaiting my awakening in place of my beloved beer bottle. I groaned weakly, rolling over until I fell off of the bed and onto the wood floor. It probably should've hurt a lot more than it did but it only added on to the party.

I laid there, looking up at the unfamiliar roof as my body tried to rip itself apart. The unfamiliar roof helped me to remember my plight. This wasn't my house back in LA and I was supposed to stay sober, it was the whole point of this torture chamber in the middle of nowhere.

I had been sure I would be mentally tough enough to take on the withdrawal and not break a sweat, but here I was, on pretty much the first morning, breaking a number of sweats and potentially bones. I rolled around restlessly and aimlessly on the floor, drowning in anguish, until a black figure caught my eye.

The suitcase.

It was once again closed, with my clothes and essentials tucked inside, but of course, only one essential was on my mind.

The packet of white pills haunted me as I looked at the suitcase, beckoning to me. Valium; the downer that shushed negative thoughts and helped me to endure every punch life threw at me.

Dad gone again? I ate that punch. 

Mom gone again? I ate that punch too. 

Coming home to an empty house? I didn't even feel that jab. 

But without them, my mind would be susceptible to the emotions that weaken and indoctrinate humanity, leaving me vulnerable and as it turns out, it also hurts like hell. Almost teasingly, the pain started to ease the longer I stared at the suitcase, longing for the contents that would numb me.

A bead of sweat formed on my brow as I continued to stare, silently willing myself not to give in. It would be remarkably pitiful if I didn't even last 24 hours. I tried to focus on why I wanted to not give in. Not because of some external factor like someone else's feelings or wishes but because I wanted to prove to myself that I was in control of my own mind and actions, and not the other way around. However, my brain certainly wasn't making that a walk in the park. I envisioned the sound of the packet as I picked it up, tearing it open to reveal my bounteous friends. Then I'd experience the smooth welcoming sensation of the tablets sliding down my throat and the feeling of tranquility that was certain to follow after.

"Ding, Ding, Ding!"

A shrill bell chimed, interrupting the palpable tension enveloping the room and my mental craving battle. I hissed at the sudden sound, quite literally hopping back like I had been shot.  It was only then that I realized I had not only stood up within the last five minutes but I had been standing right over my suitcase, likely about to reach into it and do the deed in an almost trance-like state.

I shuddered. Maybe I really was messed up.

I turned myself away from the suitcase forcefully, thankful that I had taken out clothes beforehand when I had gone digging for my hoodie the night before, so I wouldn't have to face it again. 

For now anyway. 

"Ahem." A voice sounded from seemingly everywhere at once. I didn't see a speaker in the room so I figured it had one outside in the corridor. "This is Atlas, your captain speaking. I know many of you aren't accustomed to early starts to the day but it's in fact a healthy practice and one that will be enforced here at sobriety camp. It's currently 8 am and breakfast will be available from the times 8:30 to 9:30. You should note that attendance will be duly noted and potentially rewarded. Let's get on with our day together!"

Someone had a lot of energy. I figured by rewards he meant points and with our current failed drug test predicament, we didn't have much of a choice. I focused on preparing for the breakfast, brushing my teeth and showering while trying desperately to not let my mind wander back to the suitcase next to my bed.

I successfully made it out of the room with my suitcase still closed and my sanity relatively intact. I wore a modest gray shirt with black jeans and black slides this time around. I wasn't in the mood to mock the whole sobriety thing with another drug-referencing tee today. Wasn't exactly in the mood for leaving my bedroom in fact.

I made the trek in a slow stride two doors over, knocking on the door as I reached it.

Atlas opened it in a split second, appearing shirtless with jeans that belonged in the '90s on. His eyes looked suspiciously red.

I raised an eyebrow as he made way for me to come in. "What's with the red eyes? You can't even last 24 hours not high?"

"Naw, it's not that. I couldn't really sleep for some reason, kept tossin' and turning. Normally I sleep like a rock."

"What do you normally do before going to bed?" I asked, noting he didn't smell like weed or alcohol, so he was likely telling the truth. 

"Smoke.." he replied, realization dawning on his face. "Is that why?"

"No, it's because of the sharp cries of the eagles around here," I responded with more than a hint of sarcasm.

"Ha. Ha. Very funny. You seem more accepting of waking up this earlier than I would have guessed. You don't exactly come across as a morning person."

I clutched my chest in mock hurt. "Why wouldn't I come across as such?"

"You just come across as the negative 'I hate my life' type that has insomnia and a bunch of other stuff," Atlas replied with a shrug.

"I didn't know I come across as Squidward."

Atlas's eyes widened comically as he turned around to look at me. "Dude. I totally can't unsee it now."

A well placed middle finger helped out with his eye problem.

We eventually made our way down to the cabin we had dinner in last night. They hadn't given it a name but it seemed to operate as a cafeteria so Atlas and I dubbed it the Cooking Cabin for Addicts; or the Pub for short.

Pretty creative if you ask me.

Anyway, we entered the Pub amongst the pouring-in crowd. All around grimaces and slightly bloodshot, tired-looking eyes greeted us. One pair of eyes in particular though followed our approach.

"Atlas." A feminine voice called.

We looked up the short steps to see the same girl who had tried to get Atlas' attention when we first entered the orientation meeting.

She wore flashy earrings and excessive makeup which did nothing to put her even a tad over average-looking in my opinion. Maybe I just had high standards, or functioning eyes. However. I had to admit her shag hairstyle with twin curtain bangs hanging on either side of her forehead was a nice look. The revealing attire she wore was not.

Atlas visibly tensed up when he saw her, looking back as if he was seriously considering running away.

"Why are you avoiding me!" She called out, folding her arms and defiantly stepping in our way.

"That should be self-explanatory," Atlas responded dryly. His voice didn't carry its usual playful tinge.

"It's different now! I swear I'm changing for the better," she pleaded, reaching toward his hands.

I felt like I was literally in the middle of a 'How I Met Your Mother' episode, only without the good actors.

Atlas pulled away repulsively, almost looking like he was about to backhand smack the hell out of her. "Get out of the way, Carrie."

She sighed and did as she was told. "I'll be here when you're ready to talk, Tiger." 

Atlas had been in the midst of storming past her but he stopped and slowly turned his head to face her, his face an intense portrait of a man inches away from detonating.

"Don't. Call. Me. That."

Then off he went without a second glance.

I followed a ways behind him, sparing a glance at the doleful girl. "I don't think he liked the makeup."

Naturally, some people who hadn't yet gone in watched their exchange but they didn't seem to care too much; perks of the crowd being a bunch of junkies, they tended to mind their business unless it messed with their next high. Of course, with the absence of their high, they would be feeling particularly cranky and miserable, even more immersed in their own torturous worlds.

"Hey, man," I said as he stopped by the first breakfast option. Like our dinner last night, it was buffet style though judging by my quick glance down the short aisle of trays and their titles it wasn't exactly the enticing kind. "That girl doesn't seem as insignificant as you made her out to be."

Atlas turned, his face twisted into an angry snarl that made me take an involuntarily step back. Seeing my reaction his features softened and he took a deep calming breath. "Sorry about that. Seeing waffles as an option without any syrup in sight really got to me," he joked. Noticing my lack of reaction he sighed. "She's not just some random girl I had fun with while high like I said yesterday."

Gee, you don't say.

"We actually have a lot of history." He continued. "Bad history. The kind of history I'm not ready to relive by recounting right now." He started to stack some of the waffles on his plate, quite a lot considering his earlier complaint. "I'll tell you when I'm ready. Is that good enough for you?"

I wasn't worried about him or anything, but learning about him would help me figure out what made him tick and that was always useful to know. I nodded despite my mounting curiosity, throwing two of the plain and probably somehow disgustingly nutriosu waffles onto my plate. "I'm already too focused on consuming these without throwing up."

The rest of the options consisted of fruits, I kid you not. Just as I was getting ready to throw my plate to the floor and tell Amir he would be hearing from my lawyer, we reached the last tray which shone like the gates of heaven.

Cheese sandwiches.

I quickly placed some on my plate with a mental evil chuckle. Ha, Jokes on this shitty camp. I had quite an unhealthy obsession with cheese and it looked like that wasn't going to be part of my sobriety plan.

It didn't exactly grant me a high but it lowered my rising urge to kill someone in a fit of sober induced rage. Momentarily anyway.

"I was beginning to worry you were starting some diet starvation plan for a second there," Atlas said, nodding at my plate as I stuffed a heap of sandwiches on it. I glanced at Atlas' plate which of course, was stuffed with every fruit we had passed.

Talk about not caring about your tastebud's feelings.

We made our way to what I figured was now our designated table where our other group members already sat at. Nellie could already be seen jabbering away to an obviously disinterested Indigo and a wide-eyed Thor that seemed to be hanging on her every word.

"Sup?" Atlas asked, sitting down loudly at the front of the table where he had the night before. Seemed like he was back to himself.

Nellie's eyes widened as her eyes settled on the mountain of fruits on his plate. "Woah! I didn't know you ate so healthy, Atlas."

Atlas' seating choice left me to sit beside Indigo yet again. Today she wore a black crewneck shirt with long white sleeves and black stripes coupled with black sweatpants that showcased three portraits of the moon hanging down the side. Of course, the look finished off with her beanie which sat loosely on her head, again allowing some of her hair to poke out.

Amidst my appraisal she met my gaze, her brown eyes locking onto mine. Immediately, a frown appeared on her face. "What?"

"Just wondering if you played with any needles lately," I said, motioning to her long sleeves and the hidden skin underneath. "It's one thing to tell us to pull our weight and another for you to do the same. Druggies aren't exactly known for pulling their weight after all."

Indigo scowled. "I've been sober long before I stepped onto these campgrounds."

"Quite a claim; you were sent to a sobriety camp to become...more sober?" I asked with a chuckle.

"Don't you have more highways to run on? I imagine you fit right in with gas-fueled machines."

I smirked. "That does sound like a plan, I'm open to highway suggestions. I don't know the area that well but you strike me as someone who ran away from home often, so you may be familiar."

"I think your question about my drug use is a projection. Celebrities aren't exactly known for impulse control, after all. Not to mention, arrogance practically leaks out of your pores. I bet you took something after that meeting yesterday and used some excuse like you don't care about us or our goals."

"Such a harsh accusation," I paused to stuff a cheese sandwich in my mouth. My headache hadn't fully dispersed and made sure to nag me with intense intervals, but for the first time this morning, under the rapture of perfectly melted cheese - it dulled to background noise. "Don't worry, I'm not a celeb, I just have the benefits of one. I'm just a regular trustworthy addict. Besides..." I paused, transitioning to a more serious tone, "I plan to win wherever winning is an option and I'll gladly crush losers who try to bring me down to their ranks. Are you one of those losers?"

Indigo made a tsking sound. "If you want to be intimidating you should probably call up Mama Bear. And as for winning, I can guarantee I'll be more of an asset to winning for this group than you'll be."

I raised an eyebrow, pointedly scrutinizing her small figure with my eyes. "You have a better chance pulling off all pink clothes."

"Don't tell me you're scared," she said confidently.

"What's the bet?" I asked. "And don't say a number you can't disburse. You'll be the one paying up after all."

"Everything doesn't need to be monetary."

I perked up. Monetary gain wouldn't benefit me anyway. "I'm listening."

"Attention all," again Amir's voice boomed through speakers. "It's time to begin preparing to leave the cabin and head back up to your respective residential areas. In an hour you will be called back down and the first game of our camp will commence, so get ready! I hope you're all as excited as I am and that you all contribute to making this a success."

Scattered applause sounded from around the room even though he probably couldn't hear it from his office or wherever he was.

The fools.

Indigo stood up. "We'll figure out the components of our deal at a later date." She joined the retreating crowd before I could respond.

I stared after her skeptically. She sure knew how to use her mouth but time would tell if that will be all she's good for.

I scarfed down my remaining sandwiches then exited the Pub with Atlas chatting aimlessly next to me. Nellie and Thor had gone on ahead.

"Me and Nellie were getting along so well," Atlas whined. "I think she has a thing for me."

I didn't think he was wrong, I knew he was wrong, but dismissing his delusions would be rude - which made it all the more tempting. 

"You and Indigo sure get along too," Atlas added with a grin.

"I hope you're being sarcastic."

"Well, if it isn't the theoretical ornithologist and his practical buddy." A familiar angelic voice sounded from behind us with a hint of sarcasm.

I guess she didn't buy it after all.

Of course, Atlas didn't notice, twirling around with a huge grin decorating his face. "In the flesh."

The cat-eyed girl rolled her eyes. "We're going to the same floor, I believe. Do you mind if I walk with you guys?"

"You kidding? Of cou-"

"I know you don't mind, I'm asking your friend." She said, cutting off Atlas. "Mateo, right?"

"You're asking the wrong guy, I couldn't care less," I answered dismissively. I dared not fall for the whims of this cat-eyed devilish siren. 

So..." Atlas started as we started back walking together, "you're in the group named Ravens?" he asked.

"Mhm," She replied.

"That's pretty unfortunate, 'cuz team Delta is going to win this game. And all after it," Atlas said confidently.

"Oh? Maybe they'll have an eagle spotting contest that you'll excel in. Or is that not under the practical side of birdwatching?"

Atlas smiled good-naturedly. "Ha-ha. I'll show you the power of a practical ornithologist today." He totally butchered the pronunciation of ornithologist this time around.

She laughed in response. The sound of her laugh was like a soothing harmonica tune, pleasant to the ears and soul.

A dangerous female indeed.

"My name's Atlas, by the way. I don't think I had time to properly introduce myself last time," Atlas stated as we started up the first flight of stairs.

"Nice to meet you...again. Mine is-"

"Mia!" A voice yelled from on top of the stairs.

We all looked up to see Military Buzz-Cut scrambling down the stairs with two boys in tow, a distasteful scowl across his face.

He reached us at the midway spot and spared a glare in our direction, making sure to give me an extra long one.

Charming.

"What are you doing fraternizing with the enemy?" he asked, his eyes locked on cat eyes; or rather, Mia.

Mia rolled her eyes, unaffected by his aggression. "Sorry, boss. I was on an infiltration mission that required me to get close to them to learn their dirty secrets." She did a mini salute.

I laughed loudly even though I didn't find it that funny. It had the desired effect, Buzz Cut seemed to turn beet red and his glaring eyes locked onto mine once again. He turned to me with his fists folded. "What's so funny, Captain Underpants?"

It took me a second to realize he was referring to the TMZ video where I had on just my boxers. The boys behind him which I decided to call Thing 1 and Thing 2 burst out laughing a moment later, finally getting the joke. Mia didn't bother to hide her slight smirk either but Atlas took a step to stand beside me, not even a wrinkle on his straight face, though he hadn't seen the video to get the joke. 

"You, you're funny. Not in the cracking jokes sort of way, if you have a functioning brain anyway," I glanced at Thing 1 and 2 meaningfully, "but in the being the butt of the joke sort of way. I wonder if your two stooges will be laughing at you if you end up on the ground after taking two more steps toward me."

The boy's eyes flashed with indignant rage and Thing 1 and 2 stopped laughing. He easily stood at 6'2 and the definition of muscle on his bicep betrayed his status as a gym rat and perhaps a steirod user, meaning he probably packed a mean punch. Still, I had experience in karate and boxing and was confident the guy wouldn't grow a brain just because he was in a fight. Either way, the irritation at having nothing to take the edge off demanded I put a fist in this wannabe bully's face, which meant I just had to antagonize him until self-defense was on the table. It was a little trick you learnt as someone liable to be sued.

Buzz-cut regained his bearings, clearly not having expected me to actually stand up to him. He sauntered over to me, a growing grin playing across his features as he locked onto his prey.

Me.

"Let's test that."