Chapter 3 (Apt 408)

Hot-boxed.

The whole goddamn 3rd floor got hot-boxed.

He’s stuck between feeling impressed, jealous, and somewhat disgruntled in the people he calls his neighbors. He hasn’t felt this way since he was in high school and at his first and last basketball game the student section threw, correction frisbee’d, toast on the court and yelled ‘toast em up!’ to get the audience pumped up. Some kind of show of support for the star player at the time Kendall Loafawitz.

He’s been standing...well slouching against a wall near the elevator alongside some others whom he’s seen around the city. Looks like hes not alone in his decision to take advantage of the situation. Its snowing balls outside and he would go and fuck around in it, but Kaden has been absorbing a hell of a lot of pot smoke for about an hour now. He’s still upset with how stupid the people on this floor are, but that doesn't mean he’s taking the high road and letting it go to waste.

He pushes himself off the wall and feels the blood in his body leave his head.

“Oh shit...:” he laughs lightly to himself and knows its time to go eat and sleep this off.

He trudges down the staircase in hopes of going out in the snow for a little while. Snow is cool. He hears a sploosh and looks down to his feet. Water?

He can make out the number two on the door, and realizes that hes on the second floor. There couldn't be any snow all the way up here…

He’s burning daylight, but he wants to know why its so wet.

He giggles to himself.

Wet. That's what she said. “But I wouldn’t know much about that now would I?” He keels over in laughter and nearly slips down the stairs. Composing himself he pens the door and realizes the ground is soaked. Gross. He scrunches up his face. Clogged toilet...of COLOSSAL PROPORTIONS?!

“Broken pipe.”

He looks up from the ground and tilts his head to the side.

“Do I know you?” he asks. The stranger’s eyes widen before settling on neutrality.

“No. I don’t think so.” the stranger says. He nods and then walks off. Kaden scratches his head puzzled. He knows that voice. He swears he does….

~*~

The music plays louder than it needs to in his headphones, but it doesn't bother him.

The heater is on higher than it should be, but he doesn’t care. The blanket is wrapped too tight around his body, but he can barely feel it.

Going outside was so not the smart move. Thank God he got a flu shot. He sniffles and face plants against the couch. The phone rings, but he can’t hear it. 10 minutes of consistent buzzing against his back later he unravels from his fortress of solitude and looks at the screen.

Alicia.

“Fuck...fuck.” he’s dead. She doing to have his guts for garters. He looks back at Mona’s room to make sure she’s locked in there doing whatever it is that she does when shes not at work. His pulse speeds up and he knows that he is very much in danger of heart attack at this point. Ignore her...or face her.

He’s waited this long. One more day won’t hurt right? He turns the device off and puts his headphones back in his ears.

Starting the last song over he hides under his blanket once more in hopes of disappearing before Alicia comes looking for him.

….Another shot of Henny and I’m faded asking ‘how long does this drug called fame last?’ That’s deep….

“THAT’S WHO THAT WAS!” he exclaims as he sits up suddenly. Forrest. Forrest Whitman! He’s like...one of his favorite artists.

“KADEN SHUT UP I’M TRYING TO WATCH NETFLIX.” Mona’s shouts scare him into silence. He’ll quiet down, but he’s not going to drop it just yet.