Joshua/The Trial of Joe Black (part 3)

Joshua stands outside Dr. Frank's Beastro, smoking a clove cigarette. He'd been here before. This was the night he met Nicole. He knows he's dreaming, but doesn't really want to stop himself, if only just to see her again the way she was. She was beautiful that night. He'd felt that there was something 'right' about her from the start, felt a real connection to her from the moment they met. Which was going to happen very soon. He takes a drag on the clove, feeling the heat of it in his throat. He looks up at the buildings surrounding him. New York City. This was where he would make his mark, get the band together, make the album. His self of all those years ago didn't know this, of course. He only knew that there was potential there. New York was the place to be. The music scene was vibrant; new bands were breaking out all the time. Joshua drops his clove into an ashtray, licking his lips. That was the best part of cloves, the taste they left on your lips. Unfortunate that they were so bad for you.

Down the street he sees his friends coming. Tony and Trish. They were letting Joshua stay with them while he got his feet under him in the new city. Somebody else is with them, somebody he doesn't know and can't see clearly. The present-day Joshua knows that this is Nicole. His future wife. The love of his life.

When they get closer, though, she isn't there. "Where's Nicole?" he asks Tony, craning his neck to look behind them. There is no sign of her anywhere on the sidewalk.

Trish wrinkles her brow, as if she doesn't know what he's talking about. "Who's Nicole?" Tony and Trish exchange a puzzled look, and Tony shrugs his shoulders.

A sudden realization hits Joshua like a punch in the stomach. She's gone. Was he going to have to live his whole life again without her? Could he even do it? She was the one that kept him going when he would have given up on his own. Her strength was the reason for his success. If she hadn't been there he'd still be floundering. Like he is now. A complete failure.

He wakes up suddenly, nearly falling off the bed, momentarily disoriented. Where the hell is he? Tower of Justice. Right. His head feels like someone had attached a C-clamp around his temples and tightened it a few turns too far. He's shaking so badly he's not sure he can stand. "I. Need. A. Drink." It is late in the afternoon, the day after he'd dumped his last bottle down the sink. Not remembering this, he crawls to his suitcase, tossing clothes aside, searching for a bottle. Nothing. "Shit! Shit! I dumped it! Stupid shit!"

Standing unsteadily, Joshua staggers to the bathroom. Nothing there. Maybe, just maybe, there's something left in the sink. He rubs the bottom of the sink with his fingers, then licks them, trying to find some remnant, but whatever was there has long ago evaporated. /How low have I sunk? I'm fucking pathetic. I need to stop this./ Tears start to roll from his eyes as he puts his head in his hands at the edge of the sink. /But I can't do it now./ Vague recollections of a bar somewhere in the building percolate through his mind. /A bar. Yes. I'll go there. After this trial, I'll stop drinking./