The Downward Spiral of Adam Keir | Chapter 10

“So! Nobody wants to hear you cry. That was quite the experience. What does it mean?”
            Adam looked at Jesse. He was sitting across from him in their small booth, and his arms were up, across the top of the plush back cushion. The lighting in the bar made his skin look more flushed than usual, and he had to assume that it had the same effect on him. Rather than answer the question, he decided to turn the tables on his friend: “What do you think it means?”
            “Oh, come on! Don’t do this s**t to me!” Jesse took a gulp from his beer glass.
            “I’m interested in hearing your interpretation,” Adam urged.
            “You know I’m no good at this.”
            “Go on.”
            Jesse sighed and set down his glass. “Well, uh, let’s see . . . I don’t have a single damn clue what to say about the scenes in the train. The big guy in the burlap sack mask, with all those flowers?” He shook his head. “No idea. But, um . . . He sets the house on fire, right?” He looked at Adam for confirmation.
            “Yeah.”
            “Her house? Anyway, I guess that’s supposed to mean, like . . .” There was a long pause.
            The bar was small, but welcoming. There weren’t many people there with them, since it was Sunday night�"or Monday morning, since it was almost one. The lights were dim and warm, various shades of pink and orange. From somewhere in the establishment, they could hear Jamiroquai’s “Virtual Insanity” playing. There was a bowl of pretzels sitting on their table, but neither of them had touched it yet.
            “. . . I really don’t know,” admitted Jesse. “The video was interesting, and I liked it. But I don’t get it.”
            You have no imagination, Jess. “The house represents her emotional state,” Adam hinted.
            “Does it? Okay, so he sets fire to her emotional state . . .” Jesse tapped his chin in thought, then came up with, “He hurts her or something. Destroys her confidence in herself?”
            Adam raised his brows, intrigued. “Hmm. That’s a good theory.”
            “Not right, though.”
            “No, it’s close enough that I’d consider it right.”
            “But then who’s the other guy? The guy following her, who turns into her reflection at the end.”
            “Who do you think?”
            “You’re impossible.” In mild frustration, Jesse laughed. “Just give it to me, Adam!”
            Adam was too amused to give in. “Who do you think he is?” he repeated.
            “Her father,” Jesse answered. Less confident, “Her boyfriend. Her husband?” Then, with suspicion in his voice, “Her inner self? She’s a man! That’s the hidden plot twist, isn’t it??”
            Adam guffawed. “No, she’s not a man, Jesse! He’s none of those things.”
            “Who the hell is he, then?”
            Finally, Adam succumbed. “He’s the representation of her madness. The other guy represents her trauma, and her fear of getting hurt again.”
            “But then he’s her boyfriend, right? The one that represents her madness? He betrayed her, and she lost her mind over him.”
            Surprise silenced the shorter man for a beat before he said, “I hadn’t thought of it like that, but maybe you’re right. He died, and she thinks it’s her fault. Her reflection becomes him because she feels guilty.”
            “Or he’s a former boyfriend turned stalker, and she’s become as obsessed with him as he is with her,” Jesse suggested. And then he popped a pretzel into his mouth.
            Seems alcohol makes him more imaginative . . .
            Adam considered that. “That’s a good idea. I like that theory a lot.” Though, deep down, some part of it disturbed him. Was it the association with Evangeline and her growing obsession with him that caused to resonate with him?
            “Say, does the girl in the video have a name?” asked Jesse, talking while he chewed.
            “No, not really. I mean, I called her ‘Sanity’ during production, but that’s not really a name.”
            “‘Sanity’, huh?” Jesse swallowed, took a sip of his beer, and then did a wolf whistle. “I’d show ‘Sanity’ a good time, if you know what I mean. You made her hot as s**t!”
            Something in Adam felt offended, and it led him to argue, “Well, she’s based off of someone that I know.”
            Jesse’s eyes lit up like Christmas lights as he leaned closer to Adam across the table. “Is she? My God. Can you introduce me to her? If she’s anywhere near as good-looking as you drew her, I want to meet her!”
            For a long moment, Adam had no answer. Almost all of him wanted to say no, or at least say that she didn’t live in the city.
            But why should I care? If Jesse dates her, it’s none of my business. So why can’t I bring myself to say yes?
            Adam’s hand, on the table, clenched, and his fingers squirmed. He felt tense as he said, “I don’t know, Jess. She’s, uh, pretty young.”
            “How young?”
            “Too young for you.”
            “What, like, early twenties? I’m only 34, dude. Only thing too young for me is illegal, I’d think.”
            “Early twenties is too young for you,” Adam countered. “Besides, she’s 19.”
            Jesse leaned back again. “You’re only making her sound better, Adam,” he pointed out.
            “Better? Jesse, she’s fifteen years younger than you.”
            “So?” asked Jesse with a complacent shrug. “As long as I’m not old enough to be her father, I don’t see a problem with an age gap.”
            “You don’t?” Adam inquired. All of a sudden, he’d found an opportunity to justify his physical attraction to Evangeline, and he wasn’t about to let it slip. “You don’t think that a guy in his mid-thirties finding a girl who’s barely legal attractive is . . . I don’t know, immoral?”
            “Pfft”�"Jesse shook his head as if appalled by the idea�"“God, no! Barely legal chicks are hot, dude! They’re hot because of the whole ‘forbidden fruit’ concept, y’know? You’re not supposed to want them, but because you’re not supposed to, of course you do.” He leaned forward again and slammed his hand down on the table. “And they want you, too. Most young women want an older man, because they feel that guys their age are too immature.”
            “And you’re not ‘too immature’?” Adam asked with a raised brow.
            “Aw, a little bit of dorkiness is never a bad thing. The ladies love the dorky guys.”
            “Which doesn’t explain why you still don’t have a girl . . .”
            Jesse scoffed and sat back once more. “Who says I doesn’t have a girl?” He paused for a beat, playing back what he’d just said in his head. “I mean . . . Who says . . . said I don’t have a girl? Jesus, the booze is getting to my head fast tonight.”
            “If you have a girl, then why do you want to meet the girl I based Sanity off of?”
            “Maybe I just want a cute friend,” Jesse commented through a pompous pout. Then, he ate another pretzel. While chewing, he spoke again. “Speaking of love lives, how are you and Larisa doing?”
            Adam frowned. “Well, uh . . .” Do I really have any reason to hide it anymore? “If I’m honest, it’s, um . . . a little rough right now.”
            Jesse shot Adam a look, one that expressed mild concern. “What’s wrong?”
            Uncertain, Adam scratched at his jawline. “It’s nothing, really . . . It’s just . . .” His eyes met Jesse’s. “. . . Well, I think she’s . . . Uh, I think she might be . . .” It was hard to force it out. He couldn’t bring himself to say it.
            Jesse took a shot in the dark. “She’s not pregnant, is she?”
            “No, no, God, no,” Adam denied. “She’s just been, uh . . . staying late at work a lot recently, so . . .” He tittered to himself. “It’s stupid, but I’m worried that she might be . . .”
            Picking up on the undertones, Jesse snapped, “What, you think she’s having an affair?”
            “I . . .” Adam fidgeted in his seat. “. . . I don’t know. Maybe.”
            “Are you listening to yourself?” The disbelief on Jesse’s face was intense. “Adam, she loves you. I don’t think she’d ever cheat on you, not even with . . . with, uh . . . What celebrity does she like? Whoever he is, I don’t think she’d betray you like that even for him.”
            “You think so?” he begged. “Do you think I’m being paranoid?”
            “I think that she’d be deeply offended to hear that you would even consider that,” Jesse answered.
            He doesn’t understand. He doesn’t understand that I have proof!
            “I mean, you still love her, don’t you?”
            It dismayed Adam to discover that he needed to think about that. “Yes,” he answered after too long of a pause. “Yes, of course I do. But I’ve overheard phone calls . . .”
            Jesse’s eyebrows pinched in an emotion that Adam was unable to identify. He assumed it to be disgust�"disgust that he could even think such horrible things of his own wife�"but he had no way of being sure.
            “I don’t know what to believe anymore, Jess . . .” He put his elbows on the table and put his head in his hands. “I think she still loves me, but I just don’t know.”
            Jesse shook his head and picked up his glass. “Women are confusing. But she still loves you. She’s got to.” Then, he drank.
            Adam clasped his hands, but continued leaning his forehead against them. “I’ve got another problem with my love life,” he confessed.
            “Do tell,” Jesse said. “I love drama.”
            “I’m not sure if Larisa loves me anymore, but I think someone else does. I don’t know what to do.”
            Jesse set his glass down. “You aren’t going to leave Larisa, are you?”
            He shook his head. “I’m not saying that I want to get together with this girl. I don’t want to break her heart, though. I don’t think she knows I’m married.”
            “Have you been leading her on?”
            “I’ve been trying not to, but I don’t think she gets the hint that I’m not interested in her.” At least, I don’t think I’m interested in her . . . No, I’m not interested in her. I can’t be.
            “Then why not introduce her to me?”
            “I would if I thought that’d work. Listen, I think . . . I think she’s obsessed with me.”
            “Okay?”
            “She followed me home recently.”
            “So, what”�"Jesse chuckled�"“she’s the stalker-type? Has she been stalking you?”
            I hadn’t considered it to be “stalking” . . . “I don’t know. She’s not that obsessed. Not yet, anyway. But I’m worried that she might become that obsessed.”
            “Well, be blunt with her, then,” suggested Jesse. “Tell her to leave you alone.”
            Adam looked up at his friend. “That’s a guaranteed way to make her go from zero to a hundred on the ‘stalker’ scale, Jess. She’s already changed her profile name so that it goes with mine better.”
            Jesse’s eyes narrowed. “Wait. Who are we talking about? Is she following you on Twitter?”
            “Um . . . Yeah. Why?”
            “Evangeline Thompson, right? The girl who changed her profile name to Eve Thompson?” When Adam nodded, stunned, Jesse added with a smirk, “Yeah, she’s following me too. I guess she saw our tweets at each other.”
            “Has she said anything to you?”
            “Not much. I tried talking to her, but she’s pretty quiet.” Coming to a sudden realization, Jesse decided to taunt Adam. “Wait, is she who you based Sanity off of? That funny-looking girl?”
            “She’s not ‘funny-looking’,” Adam refuted.
            “And you think she’s stalking you?” Jesse stifled a laugh.
            “I never said that. I said she might stalk me.”
            Shaking his head, Jesse picked up another pretzel. “I wouldn’t worry about her, Adam. Regardless of how much she seems to like you, I highly doubt that she’s going to break into your house anytime soon.”
            Adam couldn’t be so sure. Conflicted, he rested his head on one of his hands, placing the other down on the table. Then, he let out a deep sigh.
            “Now what do you say we get some more drinks?”
            “Yeah, sure, Jess . . . Whatever you want . . .”

* * *

When Adam finally got back home, he watched Jesse drive away before entering. As he closed the door behind himself, he wondered what time it was.
            It’s got to be around 2:00 . . . He checked his phone. 2:41 . . . Close enough.
            He was a little bit tipsy, but not exactly drunk. To forget his problems, he’d drank more than usual, much to Jesse’s pleasure. Much to his disappointment, though, he then discovered that Adam didn’t do anything out of character when tipsy. He didn’t sing, dance, or even talk any more freely. The most he was able to get from Adam was that he was happier than he was before. Happier, and also tired.
            Leaning against the wall for support, Adam pulled off his boots. Then, he hung up his coat and stretched.
            “I’ll see you in six hours,” Jesse had shouted at him as he approached the door. It wasn’t until he was standing in the dark in front of the closed front door that he finally registered it.
            Christ. I’m going to be exhausted tomorrow . . .
            He tried to be quiet as he trudged up the stairs and into the bedroom. Larisa was lying in bed already, fast asleep. Standing beside his side, he pulled off his t-shirt and slipped out of his jeans. He was too worn out to care about hanging them up, so he let both articles of clothing fall to the floor. After his socks joined the pile, he got into bed and pulled his corner of the covers over himself.
            For a moment, he gazed at the ceiling. Then, he turned over to face Larisa and stared at the back of her head.
            Maybe Jesse was right, he thought to himself. Maybe I’m just paranoid. She still loves me.
            He moved closer to her and, spooning her, gave her a small peck on the cheek. She snuggled into his embrace in her sleep and let out a low hum. Satisfied with the response, he closed his eyes and allowed himself to drift to sleep.