Chapter 3: A Bag of Chips

Flint Morgan

Some people are just like a bag of chips...

Just full of air and not much else.

Flint had this exact sentiment when he was forced to talk to the preppy Dartmouth gang that was slowly taking over the Bachelor party. Their ties hung loose off their Harry-Potter-like bodies, as they guzzled beer down in celebration.

Flint couldn't be more cheery if he was dancing on the table tops.

Flint took another shot of scotch and continued to look at that damn card.

The man who had given it to him wandered off, but he couldn't help but fix his eyes on it.

It had to be fake. Or a hoax. Or a bit of both.

Maybe it was a gag. This was a bar after all. He looked around, Jared was drinking with the Dartmouthers. His face was plastered in a smile as he gorged himself on alcohol. His black hair was sweaty from dancing and his steel grey eyes drooped a bit as he chugged more beer.

Suddenly, as if he signaled him with the glance over there, Jared and the Dartmouthers came over.

All of their beers were raised and Jared grinned at him, "Come on brother, give us your famous speech."

By famous speech, he really meant that Flint could quote Star Wars verbatim.

Flint wasn't prepared for this, "Speeeeech." he slurred.

Jared looked at him in confusion, while he dipped down to ear and asked, " how much have you had to drink?"

Flint laughed and showed a little amount with his pinched hands, " Thiz mach." he slurred again.

Jared whispered to the Dartmouthers and they backed off so it was only Jared and him.

Jared gave him a consoling pat on his shoulder, "Why don't we get you home. Where are you staying?" he asked.

All Flint could muddle out was the slurred tone, "Buttt yer ppparty."

Jared shook it off, "I'll come back. Come on let's get you home."

Jared grabbed his coat. As Jared grabbed his things, Flint held onto that business card from earlier. When Jared was finally ready, Flint stumbled through the bar doors and out to the dark poisoned city. Still carrying the business card close to him, he looked around. When Jared came out, he looked at Flint.

"Where are you staying?" he asked once again.

Flint just was focused on the name on the card, " Blank Slate", and the address on the card. He stared at it trying to make out the blurry letters.

Jared took the card out of Flint's hands, "Is this it?" he looked over the card address.

Flint gave a rolling nod and Jared started up his red Lamborghini with LED lights under his ride.

Flint slid in as his stomach begrudged his choice of liquor.

Jared eyed him carefully, "Don't puke on the upholstery."

Flint didn't care what he said, he just turned to his side and began sleeping.

The leather was uncomfortable.

Jared turned on the seat warmers and honestly he knew heaven wasn't cheap, but he wondered how much that cost to be put in his own car.

He sped through the Chicago streets because apparently speed limits don't apply to the rich.

Flint almost puked from the sharp turns alone.

Watch the upholstery?

Watch your driving you batty numbskull?

Jared only had a couple beers in him, but still he shouldn't have been driving at all. Still, Flint was the more drunk of the two.

He was probably being prideful thinking "I know my own beer threshold", but still, he drove like a maniac.

Flint couldn't decide if he had to attribute that to his horrible driving skills or him being a little drunk.

Flint only clung to the seat as he made those whipping sharp turns.

Finally, they arrived at a tall building with a neon white sign that said, "Blank Slate" in flashing colors. Jared stopped the car close to the curb of the fancy shmancy building that looked like a light black highrise. Jared stopped the engine with the click of a button and opened the door for Flint. When he did, Flint flopped onto the cold pavement.

One sound shot out from Flint's body, "Owww."

Jared picked him up and hobbled him to the front door.

He was rushed, he wanted to get back to his party.

Flint didn't blame him, but he was his brother for goodness sakes.

He couldn't spend twenty minutes driving him home.

Even though this wasn't home. Where was this even?

Flint was just about to say something when Jared cut in.

"Uh Jared-"

"You're good right? I'll pick you up here tomorrow at ten am. The wedding starts at twelve. I expect you there, suit, tie and all." he said.

Flint was just about to tell him again that this wasn't his apartment when Jared interrupted again

"Jared-"

Jared came close to Flint, looking at him with his steel grey eyes.

"Don't mess this up for me, brother. I've been waiting so long for this moment." He paused with meaning, "Just be there... and be happy for us."

Instead of saying anything else to disuade him from leaving, he just nodded solemnly.

Jared walked off and Flint started stumbling. He should call after Jared.

His car only started up with a loud hum and a rev of his engine.

Jared sped off before Flint could even get to his car and knock on the window.

Flint watched as Jared returned to his Fast and Furious driving.

You're not Vin Diesel dude. Flint shook his head. Pathetic. You're going to wreck your precious Lambo.

When Flint turned around, he eyed the building. Hmm. What was the harm in checking out if it was a hoax or not. Was it even open?

Flint peered in the glass window. The glass was as cloudy and opaque. He couldn't rightfully see through the door or any of the window. Flint turned around and leaned against the doors. Ugh. He just wanted to sleep. A cold pillow and a soft mattress. What he wouldn't do for that.

As he relished the thought of sleep, his head accidentally tapped against the door.

Flint slid to the ground beside the doors.

As he did this, suddenly a woman in a white coat walked out and looked at him.

Flint was utterly confused and too drunk to try to piece it together.

The woman had white hair and a steel face showing no emotions. She had only one dyed strand of neon blue hair. She looked sort of like Doc from Back to the Future. Yeah, he could picture her hopping into a Delorian now that he thought about it. Man, his mind was in a weird place.

Either way, she looked at him intently, " Are you the next patient?" she asked.

Flint was confused, " Patient?" he asked.

The white coated woman's blue buzzing eyes fell to his black business card.

She smiled, "Come right this way, sir."

Flint shrugged. Why not? He needed a place to sleep.

The woman led him past the front desk and into a white room with flickering lights.

The woman sat down across from him at a metal table in the center of the room.

Flint eyed her with his eyebrows flaring up at her every movement.

As the woman fumbled through papers in a green folder that was with her, Flint eyed her nametag.

Flint thought about it for a minute, ya know nametags are just dog tags for humans.

He laughed, but cut it short because she was giving him a look like he was crazy.

Flint focused back at the task at hand, trying to read her name, but his vision was blurred.

He could only make out the one single letter; "X".

Flint couldn't read the rest of the name for the life of him.

Finally, X stopped scrambling with the papers and found what she apparently was looking for.

She smiled and handed over a huge packet with yellow marker highlights for signature.

Then she asked for his credit card, in his numbed state, he handed it right over.

As Flint looked over the papers with blurry eyes, X handed him a pen.

He pretended to read it by moving his eyes back and forth across the page

Flint gave an even better performance as he nodded and signed on the first page.

He did the same for the next few pages as X looked at him funny.

"are you sure you want to do this", she asked.

Flint shrugged, "Sure, why not."

He finished signing the packet and looked up at X.

X eyed him carefully and then took out a red Etch A Sketch.

Flint was thoroughly confused. What was this?

X seemed to know what she was doing though. She handed him the Etch A Sketch. Flint was too drunk to decide if this was real or a prank. Very funny guys. He looked around the white room. It was just him and X. Okay, maybe it wasn't a prank. What could this possibly be then?

X pointed at the Etch A Sketch intently.

"Write your name." she ordered.

Flint already disliked her. Too pushy. X wouldn't budge though. Flint sighed and began to write his name. It was so hard because a) he was drunk, and b) he's never been proficient in Etch A Sketch.

He used to look at those photos of those people who did Mona Lisa on an Etch A Sketch in wonderment.

Still, Flint attempted it actually making some headway when he drew a straight line.

X looked at him pressing him to continue.

Flint continued, making small headway with the completion of the "F" in his name

Slowly but surely (it felt like decades. I even got impatient by Flint's attempts. For your sake and mine, I didn't include it all here), Flint finished both his first name and his last name.

He was damn proud of it too. Sure it was messy, but it had to count for something. Even drunkenly, he could spell his name. Well... sort of.

Flint looked expectantly at X, "What now?" he asked.

X looked back at him with an intense thunderous gaze.

"Create a blank slate." she said.

Flint was confused, " You mean shake it."

X nodded at him with a gleaming look in her eyes.

What's the harm though?

Still, Flint was a bit annoyed. He spent so long just writing out his name, just to have it erased. This was like writing a huge text and deciding to delete the whole thing.

X stared at him urging him on. Her gaze was heavy.

"Fine." he said as he shook it and slowly his name was cleared off the Etch E Sketch.

Once that was done, X closed her green folder.

Flint was deeply confused and his brows showed that confusion in neon lights across his forehead.

What the hell was this?

X got up from her chair and shook Flint's hand, "It was a pleasure doing business with you Mr. Morgan. I hope you get all you want out of this", she said.

Flint shakily and confusedly said, " Thank you...I think?"

X pointed him to a room across the way, " You can sleep in that room while it kicks in."

Before he had a chance to ask " While what kicks in?", she left.

Okay then.

Well, no one has to tell him twice to sleep. Flint slowly crawled his way to the couch in the room across the way.

It only had a black couch in it and the room again was painted all white.

They needed a new decorator, that was for sure.

Either way, Flint laid down.

As he laid down, his nose began to bleed profusely.

What the hell is this?

After his nose bled, an immense pain tremored through his head. God what a hangover.

He felt his forehead, he was burning up. What was going on? As he began to ask all these pertinent questions, Flint fell asleep in deep exhaustion.

When his eyes opened to sunlight blaring from the window in the corner, the morning accosted Flint.

Flint looked down at his wrist watch. 10:01.

Oh God Jared was here.

Flint stumbled outside to the treacherous sunlight, ahh, he felt like a vampire.

When he looked around however, there was no Jared. No Jared at all.

Flint looked back at the building that he was in.

The title on the building that was supposed to say, "Blank Slate", was gone.

When he peered back in the windows, he found them clear and stepping back to see the full picture, the building said, "Smith &Johnson Law Practice".

So he repeated in his mind for the gazillionth time, What the hell was going on?

Thank you for reading! So what the hell is going on? Did Flint sell his soul on the dotted line? What will happen to Flint? What was up with the name of the building changing? What is Blank Slate and what did he just agree to do there by signing those forms? All that and more in chapter 4... Chapter updated weekly (so far its been daily, but who knows)