Build Me Up + Blow Me Down

“Got any more beer?” “Nope.” “Got any more weed?” “Nope.” “Got any more coke?” “Nope.” “Got any more -” “No. We're out of cigarettes, heroin, and xanax too. We’re out of all the drugs we had, all we have left is water, would you like some of that?” “Nah, that's okay.” Noah sighed to himself and took another sip out of his glass of hot water. His friends always got insufferable when they partied, Michael especially. Not that the others were particularly stimulating to talk to, but they served as a refreshing break from Michael when they were all high off upwards of two drugs. The rest of them acted nonsensical, which was an annoyance but at least an interesting one. Michael simply became forgetful, talkative, and sluggish. Unfortunately for Noah, Aaron and Chris were fast asleep at the moment and Jason was out (God only knows where) with his girlfriend. Without moving from his spot next to Michael on the couch, Noah took a look around the room. This week it happened to not be in too poor a state: food on floor of the kitchen, clothes scattered around, and a framed photo on the wall just a couple centimetres off balance. Nothing too unusual for a house occupied by five male college students of well to-do families. Well, nothing unusual safe for perhaps the fact that one of those students was asleep on the kitchen table and another on the couch parallel the one Noah and Michael sat on. ‘Well’ thought Noah ‘It’s still an improvement over the usual. I guess I’ve had some influence on them.’ Noah turned back to the television screen in front of him. It had been Aaron who had drunkenly settled on putting on a nature documentary, mere minutes before he passed out on the other couch. In his current state, Michael was too open minded to protest, and Noah was too apathetic. Despite that, Noah had found himself becoming increasingly engrossed in the documentary over the last half an hour that they had been watching it. It chronicled the lives of a pack of gazelles on the African Safari. Noah frowned. They had suddenly come to the part where the group was attacked by a hunting party of lionesses, and Noah’s favourite gazelle had been fatally bitten. The documentary narrator had nicknamed him Dotty, although Noah personally felt that a more appropriate name would have been Spike. Noah glanced down at his wrist instinctually. Before he even had made eye contact with the face of his expensive gold watch however, he recalled that it had stopped when he tripped and fell holding it a couple weeks ago. He’d meant to have it fixed but hadn’t gotten around to it. ‘I ought to make a note of that.’ Noah reached down the pockets of his jeans and fished out his cell phone, flashing it on just for a moment to check the time. Quarter past four AM. Late enough for him to go to sleep without feeling like he was missing out on something, although he already knew that half of his friends were asleep. Noah stood up and stretched for a moment before turning to Michael and softly informing him that he was going to go to bed. “Oh. Already? Ok, I guess. Good night.” Michael turned his head to respond for just a moment before turning back attentively to the TV. Noah glanced once more at the screen, but he quickly came to the conclusion that with Dotty’s death, he’d lost all interest in the program. It was only then that Noah noticed peculiarly that his inebriated friends had left the TV on mute, albeit with subtitles, the whole time. Noah walked around the couch, passing by the wall briefly and fixing the framed picture before drifting into the kitchen and placing his glass in the sink. He patted Chris’ head and without cracking a smile whispered “Good night” before exiting the room back the way he came and ascending the stairs to his bedroom. He walked in and climbed into his bed without changing clothes or turning on a light, and sat silent in the darkness, with his eyes open to a beam of moonlight passing in through the window. Noah admitted to himself that in a situation like this, the cliche thing to do would be to begin to go over his day and think on some of his important queries in life. Queries like why he, a perpetually sober individual, would choose to be friends and live with a lush, let alone the four that made up his closest friends. Or why said drunkards and junkies were always throwing parties when they were perfectly happy and successful university students. Or why he, Noah, never once even attempted to dissuade them from their dangerous and self-destructive lifestyle. Admittedly, Noah was a great fan of cliches and would derive some enjoyment from brooding in such a stereotypical manner, however nothing came to his mind and for a while he simply laid there, not truly thinking of anything at all, at least not any one thing for any length of time longer than a second. Although like most people, Noah would not be able to tell you when exactly, he did eventually fall to sleep. Noah awoke the next morning to bright sunlight streaming in, the realization of which prompted him to jump out of bed and shut his curtains in a single fluid motion. He’d been too tired the previous night to remember the simple fact that sunlight, a thing he wasn’t particularly fond of, came in through the window if he left the curtains open. Or perhaps it wasn’t tiredness so much as a momentary apathy to everything around him. Noah blinked twice. 'What day is it again? Saturday….what did I have to do today? Nothing. But I’m up already anyways.” Noah changed his outfit and hurried from his room to the washroom to wash his face and brush his teeth. He walked down the stairs to find Michael and Aaron asleep in the same spots he had left them, and Chris awake, albeit barely, at the table eating a bowl of cereal. “Good morning.” Noah waved to him. Chris lazily waved back before he started a bit, as though remembering something he had almost forgotten. “I got up an hour ago and the Discovery Channel was on.” Chris began. “On mute too, with subtitles. What’s up with that? None of us are deaf.” “You know how those two get when they’re on something.” “Yeah. Odd. Not that I'm much different. Anyways, you left your phone down here, it rang several times in the last hour. Woke me up too.” Noah clicked on his phone once more. He noted that it was 2:00 in the afternoon, later than he usually liked to sleep. He also noted that his uncle who he rarely spoke to outside of special occasions, the last time they spoke being months ago, had attempted to call him a startling five times. Noah quickly dialed his uncle back and moved to a corner of the room. His uncle picked up immediately, and Noah spoke to him quietly to avoid waking his two friends or letting his third know the subject matter of the conversation. “Hello, is this you, Noah?” “Yes, what's up Uncle Gill, why did you call me so many times?” “Good to finally get you Noah. I don't know how to say this, but you need to come home quick. Your parents died last night.”