AU 001
Two months. Two months since Jessica had disappeared.
The first week had not been that bad, from the outside. With shaking hands, Magnus had followed his routine as strictly as he ever had. Gym, work, dinner, sleep. He held on to the one thing that he could keep consistent. After those seven days, however, he had fallen apart.
He took a week off work, a week that no one questioned and a week during which no one bothered him. They answered their own questions and made the best out of what they had at hand. They kept the ship afloat while Magnus drank more than he thought he had drunk in the entirety of his life.
He'd recovered after that. Guilt at his self-indulgent ways had gotten him back onto the horse. The drinking hadn't quite stopped though. It had scaled back significantly; it wasn't a problem. But coming home at the end of the day to the apartment -- the apartment Jessica had decorated, every color and piece of furniture and knickknack her choice -- was, in a word, depressing. Coming home at the end of the day to the apartment and having a drink was really depressing.
The one positive out of this new routine was that Magnus was spending more time with his staff and sometimes clients. Friday evening happy hour was a bonding experience Magnus had never partaken in before. But now it was far past happy hour. Magnus was upright, which was a good sign in his book, and he fully intended to head home after he finished this one drink. The problem was he couldn't remember what number drink this was. That was a bad sign.
The first week had not been that bad, from the outside. With shaking hands, Magnus had followed his routine as strictly as he ever had. Gym, work, dinner, sleep. He held on to the one thing that he could keep consistent. After those seven days, however, he had fallen apart.
He took a week off work, a week that no one questioned and a week during which no one bothered him. They answered their own questions and made the best out of what they had at hand. They kept the ship afloat while Magnus drank more than he thought he had drunk in the entirety of his life.
He'd recovered after that. Guilt at his self-indulgent ways had gotten him back onto the horse. The drinking hadn't quite stopped though. It had scaled back significantly; it wasn't a problem. But coming home at the end of the day to the apartment -- the apartment Jessica had decorated, every color and piece of furniture and knickknack her choice -- was, in a word, depressing. Coming home at the end of the day to the apartment and having a drink was really depressing.
The one positive out of this new routine was that Magnus was spending more time with his staff and sometimes clients. Friday evening happy hour was a bonding experience Magnus had never partaken in before. But now it was far past happy hour. Magnus was upright, which was a good sign in his book, and he fully intended to head home after he finished this one drink. The problem was he couldn't remember what number drink this was. That was a bad sign.