Zoe’s day was good, relatively speaking. She had coke and whiskey. Eventually, cat food, and the makings of a few vegan meals. Enough to last into the next week, given how little she ate.
She sort of missed Trent, now that her face no longer hurt and the bruise had faded. She’d just have to be more careful not to make him angry. He was under a lot of stress. Mostly due to his inability to keep a long-term job, his band, and the fact that his dick didn’t work…
She thought about calling someone to come over and fuck her, but before she did, she divided her coke supply into ten half-gram bindles. For some reason she had about fifty empty baggies in a drawer. At least she wouldn’t get jacked again, no matter how drunk they got her.
Thinking about what she could remember about the night before made her sad. Instead of looking for random companionship for the evening, she settled in on the couch with Roscoe, a stiff drink, and a half-gram. Movie time. Watching TV, and her pets, were the only things she could count on to not go wrong anymore. She loved cooking shows, odd movies, and documentaries.
All Trent ever wanted to watch were war movies.
How in the hell did she ever end up with him, she often wondered. In a lot of ways they were polar opposites. But her thoughts ended there. The drugs and drink took the pain and wondering away.
And Gordon Ramsey was on.
As luck would have it, good or bad, Trent came home at six.
“I heard you have some treatsky…”
Resigned to her fate, Zoe dumped out a gram for him. He took the plate from her and changed the channel to a World War II documentary.