Who: Alan and Paige When: Day 4, 10:15 am Where: The Hotel - Alan's room on the 4th floor
Dawn brought about a new day. A heavy fog greeted Alan as he rose early, the sun shining through the haze. Water dripped from the sill of his window remnants of the shower they'd experienced the day before. Rolling out of bed, the first thing he automatically reached for was his jacket, slung over the back of a hotel chair. His hand slipped into the pocket and withdrew a small baggie that contained only a fine residue of white powder. This alarmed Alan, and he quickly checked another pocket.
Nothing.
Taking wide steps, he crossed the room where he'd taken off his jeans and checked the pockets of those.
Nothing.
Alarm grew into anxiety. He threw the jeans violently away and began to pace in a frenzied mood. There had to be more! Maybe a baggie fell out of his pocket and went under the bed? Dropping to his knees he crawled under to look. It was too dark to see, so he had to push it, only to find nothing. His search became more frantic, looking from one place to another, with the nervous frenzy driven by addiction. There just had to be more! It wasn't until he practically tore his room apart that he came to the realization that he'd finished the last of his stash.
Thanks to Catie and her healing hug, the negative effects of physical withdrawal were gone, but psychologically, Alan needed that rush, that security blanket, which kept him going. There was no beating around the bush - Alan would have to go out to somehow find some.