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The first time Dan met Lars, he realised, was in a cocaine-induced dream whilst laying on a random hotel room floor.
His head was spinning and the lights were too harsh, too harsh on his aching eyes. The peacefulness of the drugs had faded quickly, replaced with a pang of regret and shame. Embarrassment.
As his eyes closed, gently relishing in the momentary darkness, his brain imagined a different life.
It was cold. Snow covered the wet grass and a frost bit at his lips. He wasn’t dressed for the weather, his cheap sneakers drenching at the winter snow’s grip.
There was a home - no, more like a garage really - standing in front of him, alongside a beat-up car. I get the feeling, he thought as he related to its condition and suffering.
A noise, loud and piercing, came from the door as it was practically pulled from its hinges. A man, panicked in his half-asleep state, thrust himself against the second door, his eyes wide as he looked straight at Dan.
“What are you doing?!” The man, his blonde hair frazzled from sleep, poked up and curled around his face. His warm, slightly chubby face. Why am I looking at his face so much?
Dan watched as the familiar yet not-quite-able-to-place man ran towards him, jogging quickly through the snow in roughed-up boots and nearly tripping over the laces.
He heaved, looking up at him as his hands pressed firmly against his knees. “Dan, it’s nearly three in the morning!” Dan could see his face more clearly, the way his eyes scrunched up and left gentle wrinkles, or the way his perfectly-trimmed facial hair covered his cupid’s bow.
He realised, just then, he should probably respond. Excuse himself for being out so late, in the freezing cold of an assumedly winter evening. Why am I even out here?
“Just- just come inside, please?” His eyes refocused, watching the gentle movement of the man’s lips. He was maybe an inch taller, perfect to stare at.
He watched as the man’s hands squeezed into fists before nervously reaching out to him. After all, it was hard for him to touch people at all. How do I know that?
“Come inside… please?” The man’s eyes squinted again, nervously as Dan lifted his hand up to brush his fingers against the soft palms.
It’s so warm. Dan smiled slightly at the man’s touch, almost like a heater. It gave him that warm buzz he got after a rush of cocaine, the gentle simmering of heat in his nose as it-
His eyes opened, suddenly hyperaware of the pounding in his head again. The fluorescent lights of the hotel room filled his vision, the hum of the record filling his ears.
“Hey Dan, come up here!” A woman shouted, seemingly on another level to him, as he regained awareness to his surroundings.
I need to meet that man, Dan thought to himself as he roughly rubbed his pulsing forehead.