Gary decided that if the problem was pain, then the solution was obvious.

More of whatever made it go away.

He sat up slowly, the room tilting just enough to remind him that this plan had already been attempted several times with mixed results. He reached for the bedside table and surveyed his supplies like a man choosing tools for a delicate operation he absolutely was not qualified to perform.

Painkillers first. He popped two, then paused, considering, before adding a third “just to be safe.” He washed them down with a mouthful of whisky that burned on the way down and did absolutely nothing to mask the taste of desperation.

For a few blessed minutes, the pain retreated. Not vanished—Gary wasn’t naïve—but softened. Blunted. Pushed back just enough for him to believe he was back in control.

This was always the dangerous part.

He leaned back against the pillows and exhaled, convincing himself that this was working. That the tooth had peaked. That bodies were resilient things and dentists were largely optional if you applied enough chemistry.

The phone buzzed beside him. A message from Dave, sent at some ungodly hour.

“U alive?”

Gary snorted and typed back with one eye half-closed.

“Sadly yes.”

Another buzz followed almost immediately.

“Pub later?”

Gary stared at the ceiling again, jaw pulsing beneath the chemical fog. The painkillers weren’t gone—they were regrouping. He could feel it, like a storm forming just offshore.

A sensible person would take this moment as a warning. A cue to stop pushing their luck. Gary, however, felt something else creeping in alongside the numbness.

Confidence.

The booze loosened his thoughts. The pills dulled the edge. Together, they created a comforting illusion that this whole situation was manageable. Temporary. Something he could power through with enough stubbornness and denial.

He shifted his jaw experimentally.

The pain surged back instantly, sharper this time, as if offended by the test.

Gary swore loudly and rolled onto his side, clutching his face. The room spun again, slower now, heavier.

This wasn’t solved.

It was postponed.

And postponement had a habit of charging interest.

Take more pills and booze → Turn to Page 11

Panic slightly and go out anyway → Turn to Page 6