Locating his wallet, Kash borrowed one of Sam's nondescript sweatsuits and slipped onto Oxford's suburban street. Kash looked up at the second floor and saw the window was dark. Sam was asleep in his apartment. The craving for a fix was overriding the self-disgust he felt hunting down drugs in a seedy part of town. Frowning, he scanned his surroundings. Jasmine had always bought his drugs. It can't be that hard to find some ludes. He made his way towards Center Street, his path twisting through darkened back alleys. Music from the lit up pubs, bars and clubs guided him towards Barstow's noisy nightlife.

Upon closer examination, he found the area overtaken by fast-food chains, housing associations and even evangelical Christian churches. He approached a leather skirted figure wearing over the knee boots standing on a busy street corner. Heavy makeup hid her age, giving her plain face a generic clown-like appearance. "Where can I get some downers?"

"I got your fix right here, baby. Tell me what you like." The night worker moved into his personal space, hiking up her short skirt. Kash shook his head and pulled out a twenty dollar bill. "I just want to get some Lemon Roras."

The young woman nodded in the direction of a red neon sign. "You mean Lemon Drops. Go down the 100 Club. Ask for Leroy. "He'll hook you up." Smiling, she slipped the bill into her bra.

He hesitated before heading towards the club. "How old are you?"

Her bruised lips twitched upwards in the caricature of a smile. Kash noted her plump lip was split and wondered if she'd been recently struck. "I'm as old or young as you want me to be, baby."

"You don't look older than sixteen. Don't you have a place to live?"

Her face hardened at the sympathetic tone. "I don't have time for your social worker shit." She turned away from him, scanning the street for potential customers.

"Wait. What's your name?"

She turned around and faced him. "It's Layla. If you change your mind about some sugar, you know where to find me." She stalked away from him towards a middle aged man in a track suit.

Further down the street, Kash found the 100 club and entered the noisy smoke filled venue. It was a typical rat infested basement club with edgy psychedelic punk music screaming in weird time signatures. He found his arrival was badly timed as a thick crowd of bodies swarmed him and made it standing room only. Making his way towards the bar, he became stuck behind an obnoxious punk with multiple body piercings.

"Hurry up with those drinks!" The young punk ahead of him snarled at the bartender. "We're thirsty." The punk in back of him lost control of himself and began banging his head against another patron. After ten minutes of standing behind the noisy little asshole, Kash felt a loss of basic motor skills and his vision blurring.

~~~~~~~

Sam awoke with a start. Catching his breath, he wiped the sweat from his face and struggled into a sitting position. He grabbed some painkillers off the nightstand next to his bed. He was dying but determined to accomplish this last thing. Seeing Diana one last time was the only thing that kept his diseased heart pumping, holding the terrible pain of his body at bay. Then he could die happy.