It was 4 AM when Trenton ripped the note from his door. Not even looking at it, stumbling into his living room. Alone for once, and he scrounged for a source of light on his way to the bedroom. Prying a body hellbent on hedonism loose from designer threads. The note was in his teeth when he collapsed into bed, finally focusing his eyes on it. The words wavered in triplicate, and he drunkenly tried to cover one eye to see it straight.
"..goddamn.. sobriety test.." A mutter before the pen scratches fell into focus and he groaned. Dropping the note off his bed and covering his face. I don't want too What does that even mean? Don't want to stop? Who would willingly go through the torture of his company this long? His angry, uninterested company?
Maybe he was giving mixed signals.
Trenton considered the blowjob and whatever had happened on his bed the other day.. and the fighting over the money. Yeah, mixed signals.
"UGH." Trenton couldn't think about this now. He rolled into his clean sheets for comfort, but sat up a moment later in confusion.