I turned to face him, realizing his eyes were the bluest of blues. In another life, another situation, he would’ve been striking–the kind of guy you saw on billboards, and in magazines. But behind the ease and the laugh, hidden by those blue eyes, I recognized something I saw in myself. Pain. Struggle. He gave me a small smile, and I returned it. “What’s that?”

He held the mason jar out to me. “The only way to survive this place is to be very very drunk.”

“Well if you insist.” I took the glass, our fingers briefly touching. This time the hooch was easier to swallow, warming me in a nice way. I wouldn’t put it in my top ten favorite drinks, but it wasn’t bad. I passed the glass back to him, and this time our fingers lingered as they brushed past. When I looked into his eyes again, I saw the connection and understanding of two people in a fucked-up situation they had no control over–when the only way to survive things was to make the best of it. Or, in Theo’s opinion, to be incredibly drunk.

I could get behind that. “Do you miss it?” I asked.

He held up a finger as he took a deep swallow. “Miss what?”

“The outside world. Fresh air. The sun. Or does it get easier?”

Theo was quiet for a moment. “I’m not sure I had anything to miss out there to be an accurate enough judge.”

“What do you mean?” I took the proffered glass, a pro by now at drinking the disgusting concoction. I wasn’t sure I wanted to know how he made it–hopefully a toilet wasn’t involved. Instead of thinking too hard about the manufacturing process, I just took a drink and handed it back.

“I mean…” He took another sip, a frown creasing his forehead. I was already feeling the effects of the homemade booze, so he had to be absolutely smashed. Or was just a pro at holding his liquor. “I was trapped before I ever stepped foot inside this house. It took being here to realize it. And now it doesn’t matter, does it?”

I snatched the glass back, and this time the drink seemed almost enjoyable. I was definitely drunk. But at least I wasn’t worried about accidentally buying a jinxed house anymore. I was more concerned about the beautiful, sad man next to me, and the idea he might have never gotten to tell his story. Maybe he never would.

I could give him that opportunity. I bumped his shoulder with mine. “Tell me.”

4. Theo

Numb. That was the only way I could function.
Absolutely, completely, totally numb.
Honestly, I wasn’t sure how people managed to function without feeling weightlessness. How did they survive feeling it all?