Seattle Substance Abuse & Treatment Facility (1) – Lipstick Lies!

The Seattle Substance Abuse & Treatment Facility sat isolated on a hill on the outskirts of the city. Established in 1845, it rivaled the Betty Ford Clinic with the number of celebrities known and unknown that traversed its hallowed halls.

When a facility was built and opened in Seattle in the early 1990’s, Ansel Monroe was tapped to be its head, a role he has relished for over 15 years.

Well-versed in the addictions that plague celebrities, it was his calm demeanor and professional attitude that allowed him to be so successful with the treatment of his patients.

The people he saw on a daily basis put their faith and trust in him, due to the simple fact that what they tell him in confidence, stays in confidence. None of what they went through was ever leaked to the paparazzi that were always camped outside the gates.

And woe to those story-seekers who dare try to traverse the gates to get inside for their scoops. Glory hounds were frowned upon and were dealt with extreme prejudice.

It was the morning following Maxwell Hines’s entrance into these same halls and Ansel was in his office, reading Max’s file. He kept a seperate notepad beside his hand to make observations based upon what he was reading in the file, also reading the letter that his sister had sent along.

There was a knock upon his office door and he pulled his eyes away to see who it was.

“Yes?” he called out. His assistant, Denise McBride, also on staff as a Registered Nurse, poked her head in the door.

“Good morning, Ansel.” she smiled.

“Good morning, Denise. How’s Lilith doing?” Lilith was Denise’s 5 year old daughter.

“Much better, thank you for asking. Chicken pox are a pain in my ass.”

“At least she got them while she was still young and not an adolescent. That would be disasterous, I imagine.”

“You’re probably right.” Denise chuckled, pulling up her clipboard. “So…looks like Jordan slept peacefully last night. I think she’s finally over the hump. She has an appointment with you this morning after breakfast.”

“Mm, yes. Her addiction to cocaine was particularly nasty this time around.”

“Dottie is still having trust issues with some of the elderly staff.”

“Sexual abuse that transitions into prostitution is a difficult one to process. But we will continue to do our best for her.”

Denise nodded and moved her pen down her list, stopping at a name on the bottom.

“And our newest patient had to be sedated last night when he was brought in. He tried to bite Steve, and aimed a kick at a delicate portion of Dan’s anatomy.”

“Ah, yes. Maxwell Hines. I just finished reading his file.” Ansel nodded, sitting back in his seat.

“What’s his story?” Denise wondered, sitting in the chair in front of his desk.

“Obsessive-compulsive, alcoholic with low self-esteem. I believe he’s an art gallery owner.”

“Oh! I’ve been to a showing at his gallery. He’s got a great eye for detail.”

“Apparently, his eye for detail pointed more toward drinking and not working. His sister had him committed.”

“Sounds like she’d reached the end of her rope with him.”

“Something like that. According to her, he was on a self-destructive path to the grave.”

“She’s not an enabler, is she?”

“No.” Ansel shook his head. “Far from it. She was trying to get him to see that he was hurting everyone around him. But he was in denial of it all.”

“Denial is an ugly road to travel.” Denise sighed. “Would you like to set up an appointment with him today?”

“No. We’ll give him another day to himself. Is he still sedated?”

“It should wear off in another hour or so.”

“Good. Get him cleaned up, introduce him to the general pop and see how he does. I’ll simply observe him today so that I can get some idea of how to handle him when we meet.”

“Right. Who do you want to assign to him?”

“I think Ernie would be a good choice. He’s got that no-nonsense vibe.”

“Oh boy.” Denise chuckled, making a note on her chart. “I’ll go and catch Ernie before he starts his rounds.” Denise got to her feet and started to leave.

“Thanks, Denise.” Ansel smiled, watching her walk away. He made a couple of more notes for Maxwell’s file before he closed it and left the office.

~Dream sequence~

A glittering night. A crowd bustling within his gallery all to see the work of the latest artist about town- Clarke Morrigan. Her sculptures had gotten rave reviews from the press releases, and now Maxwell was basking in the heady glow of the patrons attentions. Once again, Maxwell had pulled it off. Found another star in the midst of Seattle’s art community and launched them into the international spot light. A genius…yes indisputable. There was Lucy. Ah, what a girl. Handling the press like a natural winner. Again a credit all to Maxwell and his amazing skills at recruiting only the best.

But just as he was relishing in the adulation, the glory of yet another magnificent show his sister appeared.

“Look at you!”

“What? Darling, let’s not make a scene shall we?”

“You’re naked! Drunk…as usual and naked. Can’t you see everyone staring at you?!”

Suddenly hordes of cameramen all closed in, taking snapshots of the Gallery owner, who brought up his scotch glass and then looked down to see he was in fact naked. Completely. Lucy was standing in the background, her face ashen and the look of disappointment showing clearly.

“Help me, Felicity. How did I lose my clothes?” He wailed, trying to hide behind her as more people took photographs, some even pulling out their iphones. “I’ll be ruined. How could you let me do this?” He was mortified, and then suddenly grabbed on the arms by two large gorillas in white jackets. Felicity turned on him, and had the head of an evil witch – her face all green with a long nose and a large wart on the end of it.

“Oh I’ll help you. Come my pretties…fly…fly…FLY!” This was turning into something horrible from the Wizard of Oz. the gorillas sprouting wings and then taking off with the naked Maxwell into the sky about to hit the ceiling. The room filled with art lovers all applauded loudly, most were laughing too.

“FELICITY…YOU OLD WITCH!” Maxwell screamed as he struggled, kicked and bit till finally he landed on a stained mattress and was surrounded by padded walls. There was some man babbling about sucking cock for coke. Maxwell was now in some striped pyjamas, and his hair all disheveled, as though he had been this way for months. He feebly reached out towards the door, only to see a large gorilla…laughing at him and offering him…a banana.

“Felicity…..how could you do this to me?”

~End dream sequence~

The sedative that Maxwell had been given on his arrival at the SSA was a powerful one, and only now the following day was it starting to wear off. Maxwell’s eyes finally opened to see he was still locked inside his room. The other patient must have had access to the rest of the facility – a privilege that Maxwell was yet to earn.

He sat himself up slowly, smacking his dry lips together and taking up his flat pillow which he cuddled to himself. This was his worst nightmare. Being locked up like a looney. Was he a looney? What was this place? He knew one thing it smelt really funny – like a heavy concentration of anti-bacterial solution. Maybe they had washed the floor at the foot of his bed where he had been sick? Maxwell brought his hand up to the side of his head and then looked to see his rolex watch was gone. Hell, his rings were gone. They took all his jewelry. He suddenly felt very naked indeed, even with the odd pyjamas on.

“I need a drink.” he thought to himself..and wondered when happy hour was.

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