One pill. One job. One free day. That’s the deal.
Trakk gripped the railings tightly with both hands as he descended into Luxe, Lau’s basement nightclub. He walked unsteadily, slowly, sometimes trembling.
At any minute, he could have another micro-seizure. A ten, thirty-second blackout, just like that, and then back. But if he could just get to Lau and get the CBD, he’d be fine. Maybe.
Just a few more steps now.
He could hear the muffled thumping of dubstep from the club’s bowels. Plastered on both sides of the narrow staircase were nudie centrefolds from old Playboys and covers of Guns&Ammo in a chaotic collage.
He caught a glimpse of Hiromi Oshima’s June 2004 big brown nipple staring at him. The one where she’s holding this ugly kite behind her.
Or had Trakk been ogling her for more than a minute? Trakk couldn’t tell anymore because of his condition. Time was unreliable to him now.