I see it straightway, but he doesn’t notice until it starts to drip.
“Fuck. Must be the heat.” He chuckles but he looks thrown as he grabs a tissue from his back pocket and starts dabbing at his nose.
He stands quickly and I do too ready to talk to him. Nosebleeds are a sign that things aren’t okay.
“Dominic, you okay?” I ask.
“Of course. Just a nosebleed.” He tries to brush it off.
“Is it?” I counter.
“Yeah. It’s a fucking nosebleed Tristan, relax. Worry about the girl. I’m good.” He gives me a pat on my back and walks away.
I watch him go, but I know he’s not okay. And I think I know what’s wrong with him.
I think he’s using.
I think he’s on drugs.