IDRIS

Idris watches Josi try and fail to recollect her senses. He watches her attempts to keep herself upright — away from his shoulder — and even begins betting how long it will take before she collapses once again. She gets up once more, lingers, then loses her sense of self and drops to his shoulder. Idris takes this as a form of entertainment. He fills his glass up with more whiskey, then sits there and simply spectates Josi.

Her breathing has grown heavy, and from the way she clings to him, he can tell she's definitely not in her right mind. All this over some last minute plan he'd ad libbed. He wasn't expecting her to actually take on the bet, but now that she has, he's thankful he'd offered it up in the first place.

"I can't believe you actually drank it. You should have just waited. People actually like spending time with me, you know."

Josi offers him a groan. "Shut . . . up . . ."

Idris waves her off. "Freedom of speech, Cade."

The alcohol really seems to have done a number on her, because not only does she cling to him, she rests her forehead against his for extra support. Idris is a bit taken aback. He meets her eyes under that cloud of intensity and redraws to himself. He can't look away. He doesn't want to.

He runs his fingers through the ends of her hair. "If I were any more insane, I'd think you were flirting with me."

Josi skips her reply and instead, cradles his cheeks in her hands. Alcohol really can bring about the most peculiar circumstances. Even Idris is confounded. He halts his fingers where they are at the ends of her hair and focuses on something else more enthralling.

Josi's hands are warm where they are. They're smooth and supple and bring him a certain level of serenity he hasn't felt in years.

"You know," Josi says with a slur. She clams down on his cheeks and begins pulling at the skin. "You have surprisingly soft skin."

Idris just sits there, still trying to get past the astonishment, until he bursts into laughter. He pulls her hands away. "You're a handful when you're drunk, you know that?"

Josi rests her head against his shoulder once again. The alcohol has taken total control. "You're a handful all the time."

From this proximity, Idris gets a taste of her scent and, to his surprise, allows himself bask in it. A mix of something floral and sweet. It's addicting, almost. He has to pull himself away before he falls in any deeper.

"Cut me some slack. I'm trying my hardest not to go insane here . . ." Josi continues, her voice a bit muffled by his shoulder. But this part she says as clear as day. "I hate you, Idris Night Verdonni."

Idris retains his silence. It had somehow slipped his mind, though she'd admitted the same truth mere moments ago. He finds it silly that she would confess to him this way, because all it really is is a scream into an empty void. A misplaced complaint.

Josi meets unconsciousness seconds later. Idris thinks it's time to resign and call it quits. His plan for Josi is to turn her loose to the club — abandon and have her fend for herself in that vegetable state. After all, he never forced the liquor on her. She took on the bet all by herself.

But a message on her phone draws his attention. One of the many from her boyfriend checking in for a status report, which Josi has failed to provide. He must be at his wit's end with worry, because even the missed calls are backlogged. Idris smiles at the desperation radiating off the phone. Then he powers it off. Change of plans.

He motions a guard over. "Get the car ready."

~《¤》~

JOSI

Josi wakes up the following morning in a strange man's land. At first, she thinks she's dreaming. Alcohol can make you see things. Then she realizes its effect has worn off, so whatever this is is reality. Not the reality she's used to, though. This is not a setting familiar to her.

This is foreign territory. It's a bedroom the size of a living room. Perhaps even bigger, because the floor to ceiling windows are not native to the average living room. What's even more extraordinary is the view the bedroom has been granted. A personal view of the city. Or in this case, the sky. They may as well be occupants on an air ship.

The view astounds Josi. It keeps her attention off the thing that should really be at the center of her focus. Yes, she's under duvet covers softer than the finest silk. But she's not there alone.

Panic begins stirring. Josi practically falls off the bed in her attempt to escape whatever trap it is she's been lured into. This must have been his plan. To drug and drag her back to his home. But her clothes and undergarments are on. Still not enough to diffuse the situation. Idris could have done a number of things.

The man in question begins stirring in his sleep, until finally he's pulled awake. He sits and runs a hand through his hair a couple times, trying to regain as much of his senses as he can. Then the sight of Josi meets his eyes, and instantly he pauses, as if her presence wasn't accounted for. Well, it should be. He brought her there.

"Oh, for fuck's sake. Do you ever smile?"

The daggers Josi throws him don't bury deep enough. "What the hell did you do to me?"

Idris seems confused at first. Clearly, this is not a question he was expecting, what with her decision to dump the bottle of Vodka in her system. But the way Josi clutches her dress clues him in. He begins laughing. "I don't need to take advantage of intoxicated women when I already have options, Cade. And even if you were part of said options, you'd be at the bottom of the list."

Josi steams in so much anger, it boils her skin hot. Completely oblivious to her misery, Idris leaves the bed shirtless and even begins doing a couple stretches. Josi notices for the first time the tattoo on the side of his abdomen. They're written vertically in some foreign language she can't put a clear name to. That makes two in total; the other inked on his nape. There may be more hidden in other locations. Hopefully, the day will never come to confirm.

Idris catches Josi in the midst of spectating. "Careful. Your boyfriend wouldn't like that."

Josi suppresses an eye roll and a rebuttal which came way too close to slipping out. Any more time spent in his presence will send her on a path towards insanity. She has to find her way out.

"Speaking of boyfriend," Idris starts again, this time with his phone in his hand. "I wonder what Bradley will think about this."

The photo is blurry at first, and Josi has to step closer to make it out in its entirety. She's unconscious in this picture, laying ever so peacefully next to Idris who has his arm around her. They seem close. Intimate. Like lovers. Once again, Josi has been stuffed into a canon and blasted off.

"Please don't . . ." Josi pleads, a bit inaudible. She gathers more strength. "Please, I'll do anything."

Idris stares at the photo like it's his greatest work. It may as well be. He smiles gleefully, and when he sees the anxiousness on Josi's face, it turns to a chuckle. "You should probably go home."

__

Josi arrives home already in her change of clothes. She has been made aware of all of Bradley's missed calls and messages, but has yet to formulate some excuse good enough to feed him. What keeps her busy now is the chance that Bradley may have seen that photo.

He's in the living room as soon as she walks in. It's clear he hasn't gotten a wink of sleep. After all, how could he? When his girlfriend went off the grid without so much as a heads up. And even now as he realizes Josi is well and in one piece, he doesn't get the chance to hug her. He doesn't receive an explanation either. Just a panicked frenzy.

"I need to see your phone. Now."

"Where the hell have you been?" Bradley asks, but receives no answer. Josi grabs his cellphone off the table and begins scrolling through. Text messages are first to be inspected. She scrolls and scrolls, until she sees no signs of the photo and switches to his email. She even adds Idris's number to the block list, lest he resorts to sending the photos some other time.

The photos are not in Bradley's email either. She checks the spam and even the trash folder, as if the photo could have developed some sense of self and deleted itself. Nothing turns up.

Bradley's concern has skyrocketed. He sends a hand for her. "Josita-"

"Your computer!" She pushes past him on her way to the bedroom.

Bradley stays close behind her. "Josita, you're losing your mind." But his concern is shunned. Josi frantically surfs through the computer, sweeping through all his emails- even the ones he uses for work-and any other destination the photo could have arrived in. Again, she finds no traces.

Now the frustration devours her. When will Idris send the photo? Has he already sent it? Will it appear at Bradley's workplace enclosed in the same envelope as the previous one? How will she ever know if Bradley sees the photo? Will he leave her? Can she handle that? Will their relationship survive-

"Josita!"

Josi is pulled back to reality, and for the first time notices the distress on Bradley's face. He's well past being concerned at this point. He's been led around in a maze with no true exit. He wants answers.

"Where were you last night?"

Josi can't find a suitable lie this time around.

"Do you know how worried sick I was? Your phone was off, for crying out loud! And now you show up as if nothing happened?" These are all statements he wants validated, but he gives her no room to do so. "I called Mia and Clarissa. They told me you weren't with them. Where were you?"

Josi brings her head down. Should she choose to give an honest answer, Idris would bring to life all the threats used to hold their dynamic in place. She cannot have that happen.

"Do you trust me?"

Bradley scoffs as if the answer should be clear. "Of course, I do. But you have to tell me where you were."

Josi sighs with weak resolve. "Please believe me when I tell you I can't answer that question."

Now Bradley's concern turns to irritation. "Why can't you answer such a simple question, Josita?"

"I really can't answer-"

"Why can't you?!"

"Because I just can't!"

The silence that swarms them is unlike anything that has ever happened before. There have been fights down the line, but the issue of trust has never been one of such reasons. To think their relationship would blister into something this chaotic.

Josi cools her head, and with newfound resolve, looks Bradley straight in the eye. "Please believe me when I say I would never do anything to hurt you. I know I'm being selfish and unreasonable, but you just have to trust me. Please."

Bradley returns the stare she gives him, trying to formulate an answer to this favor she's asking of him. Until finally, he gives up and exits the bedroom.

The silence was dreadful before, but the one Josi currently swims in all by herself is a smidgen past excruciating. She slumps to the floor and embraces the wave of tears, as it's the only way to relieve some of that frustration. How rotten things have become. So completely out of her control.

Even in this moment, Josi is allowed no time for grief. She receives a phone call from Idris who, judging by the tone of his voice, had the time of his life listening in on the scene that just took place.

"That was tear jerking, Cade. I expected him to dump you right then and there. He must really love you."

Josi says nothing.

"Don't forget our plans on Thursday." The line goes dead.

Josi just sits there with her head in her hands, shedding tears that have no meaning, fully aware that Idris Night Verdonni will never stop.

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