Toby.

Beth blearily looked at the ceiling. She was just coming out the weirdest dream... or was she still in it? She didn't recognize the ceiling she was looking at. She squinted.

She rolled to the side and her whole body moved sluggishly. Was she drunk? What time was it?

It was 4pm, according to the bedside table. How long had she been asleep? Her vision blurred and doubled briefly and she strenuously refocused. She must have gotten super drunk. Or high, she thought. Her thoughts, her thinking felt different.

Her eyes widened as she realized she was inhaling a strong aroma. It was a colorful mélange of weed smoke, dirty socks, and body odor. She giggled a little- no, no distractions! She was thinking differently. What was different? She wasn't recoiling at the stench. But was it a stench? Wasn't there something kind of nice about that little hint of junk food farts on the nose?

A guy was standing in the doorway. She wasn't startled at all, and once again surmised that she had gotten extremely high the previous... whenever. The guy was speaking and waving a hand around.

"...hi! Hello? Ma'am?" He stopped waving and smiled as her eyes slowly focused on his face. "Hi. I'm sure you're very confused right now. With the amount of cannabis you consumed, I'm surprised you're already awake."

"Awake?" she asked. Was she really awake? This didn't feel like awake. "Where am I?"

"You're at my nephew's house, dear. I'm Dr. Bradley Inman. My firm produces research chemicals. I must inform you that we've given you one."

"What?" she asked, sitting up with alarm. The motion made her dizzy and she frowned for a moment, trying to regain her balance. "What? You gave me a... something's weird. Something's not right."

"That's probably the chemical," he explained slowly.

"Chemical?" she whispered. She was really not feeling normal. There was like, something big missing from her mind. So big she couldn't figure out what it is.

"Forgive me, dear." He slapped her lightly across the face.

Beth started at the wall in shock, her mouth forming a perfect O. He had just fucking slapped her. She was...

...

She turned back to face him, her mouth still gaping with shock. It wasn't unpleasant.

"I can't get mad. Like, at all."

The doctor smiled and nodded. "You never will again. You'll never be sad either. Or lonely, or scared, or annoyed."

Beth furrowed her brow. "How long does it last?"

"Oh, that's one reason I prefer to call it a 'chemical' rather than a '****' - **** have a shelf-life. They're impermanent. This little guy alters you." He smiled. "For the better."

She felt the lack of worry and fear like a black hole in her mind. It felt like having an empty stomach, but in her head. Still, it didn't feel bad.

"And what does it do?"

He paused. "Well, we call it phenomenological anesthesia..."

"That's a dumb name," she said with a roll of her eyes.