21...

Frank stumbled to the couch and sat hard. He lightly rubbed one eye and watched the blue sparks tumble into black. Bryan stood with the refrigerator door open, feeling the coolness click to his clammy skin.
“What else has been weird this morning?” He grabbed a beer and sat next to Frank.
“You smell, man.” Frank said with a yawn.
“Yeah, I just ran seven miles.” Bryan took a swig of the beer and handed it off to Frank.
The bottle tilted back and beer began to disappear in giant gulps. Frank closed his eyes and felt that cold goodness fall on down. He smiled with a simple contentment that was near angelic.
“What else has been weird this morning?” Bryan pressed a little harder.
“The phone kept ringing…”
“Oooh, creepy.”
Bryan stood and walked through his own sarcasm. He put his hands on his hips and began stretching from side to side.
“No, I mean it kept ringing until I finally picked it up. And when I picked it up it was someone laughing. Laughing or crying, I’m not positive.”
Frank stared ahead carefully, focusing on nothing and lost in something that felt like a bruise somehow. He took a slow and full inhale of breath, looked down at the beer bottle in his hand and finished it off. He tried to look Bryan in the face, but Bryan was currently bent over at the waist and touching his feet.
“I think it was Alexis. On the phone.”
Bryan stopped the small bouncing motion he had been involved in and began to slowly stand up straight. A sly smile bloomed on his smooth, tan face.
“You’re little chippy called?”
“She’s not my little chippy!” Frank snapped, tossing the beer bottle at Bryan.
Bryan caught the bottle like a zen master, minor league right fielder; all young show and power with absolute grace and focus. He put it on the table without the slightest attention.
“Didn’t she blow you while her boyfriend was passed out two feet away?
“Yeah, but…” Frank stammered.
“Did the two of you not fuck while you were wearing rollerblades?”
“We did, but…”
“While both of you were wearing rollerblades?”
Frank couldn’t help a prideful little smile at that particular memory. The smile faltered and broke almost as soon as it surfaced.
“I don’t know man, I don’t… Something doesn’t feel right.”
“What do you mean?” Bryan asked.
“I think there’s trouble with her. That she’s in trouble.”
“How can you even know that? I mean how long have you known her?”
Frank turned his eyes away from Bryan and thought about it for a moment.
“A few years I guess.”
“How’d you even meet her?”
Frank’s fragile smile began to reform itself.
“Well…”

20...

A hand, nice and comforting at first, rubbed lightly on his shoulder. That hand then became a little more excitable and shook his whole body. Frank continued to ignore it, attempting to turn distraction to dream. A slightly nasal voice calling his name was more than his sleepy brain could handle.
Frank opened his eyes to see a worried looking Bryan at an odd angle. Frank felt the coolness of the floor on his face, and wishing to revel in it a moment more, closed his eyes again.
“Dude, c’mon, get up. What the hell is going on?”
Frank once again opened his sleepy eyes and smiled sweetly.
“What’s up Bry?”
“What’s up? You’re passed out, naked, on our floor!”
Frank sat up groggily. He looked down at himself and then slowly around the living room/kitchen.
“Some guy came in, some crazy guy.”
Bryan stood up with his hand extended to help Frank get to his feet.
“Are you alright?” Bryan asked with an edge of panic in his voice. “Did he hit you or something?”
Frank grabbed on to Bryan’s hand and stood. He rubbed his hands through his hair and looked around again as if waking from a heavy sleep.
“No, he didn’t hit me.”
Frank walked into his bedroom and called out over his shoulder.
“Some freaking homeless guy just walked in here. He started going into some kind of convulsion and, and, and saying this crazy shit. Then he just walked out.”
“What kind of crazy shit?”
Frank came back into the room in striped boxers and a Sonic Youth t-shirt. He looked deeply into Bryan’s eyes as if trying to pull a question from within them.
“I don’t remember exactly, I was pretty freaked out. I just remember he said ‘purple lotus’ a couple of times.”
“Purple lotus?”
“Yeah.”
“What does that mean?”
“I don’t know Bryan.” Frank sat down heavily on the couch. “In case you didn’t hear before, freaking homeless guy.”
Frank covered his face with his hands and breathed deeply.
“Are you okay?” Bryan asked, legitimately worried.
“It’s already been a weird and tough morning. I’m a little worried about what the rest of the day holds.”