Who is voltaire in tweak

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He picks up on the fifth ring. He seems instantly empathetic. Still, it seems like this is the right thing to do. I tell her that I just asked Voltaire to be my sponsor. I say I will. Spencer calls me on the way to meet Voltaire.

My phone rings over and over. Surely we can still be friends. Voltaire is already sitting down when I get to the restaurant. He is very thin and balding, with a thick mustache—but somehow he commands the attention of everyone there.

All the waitresses know him. He even takes the liberty of ordering for me. Talking with Voltaire is so different from my meetings with Spencer.

He has conditions in order for him to sponsor me. I have to call every day—without fail. I feel genuinely grateful to have changed sponsors. She is still sick and is smoking cigarettes. We talk about our days, my meeting with Voltaire. She wonders aloud whether I should move in completely with her so we can save money on rent.

You know, I love you more than anything. I am so in love. She is thirty-seven and the heiress to a ten-billion-dollar fortune. She just got married for the fifth time, to a twenty-five-year-old guy named Justin.

Apparently, based on her phone call, he has started shooting coke again after over a year of sobriety in a twelve-step program. Yakuza says she needs help. Without hesitating, Zelda gets up and we dress quickly. Driving west on Sunset, I look back to see the lights from downtown and Hollywood reflecting off the low-hanging darkness. Yakuza lives in Brentwood, in a house that was passed down to her as part of her trust.

Zelda tells me as we speed through the Sunset Strip that she and Yakuza have been talking about starting a clothing design business. Zelda does a lot of styling for commercials. The place is closed in with a whitewashed picket fence. The house itself is like a fairy-tale cottage. Inside, it smells like dog shit. He keeps getting up all abruptly and shit—looking out the blinds.

I get up and shake her hand. Zelda sits next to me and I hold her close. We exchange glances. Yakuza keeps talking and Justin is catatonic. Eventually he excuses himself and goes upstairs. His sister died of a cocaine overdose. You have to help him. I know how much I have to lose, but I just block that out.

But thankfully, when I open the bathroom door, Justin is flushing a large plastic bag of coke and two rigs down the toilet. What was your name again? Kuza called you? Are the cops here yet? Nobody called the cops. I tell Yakuza that Justin just got rid of all his coke and everything. She traps me in another barrage of monologue that makes no sense.

In fact, he passes out a few minutes later. How anyone could fall asleep after shooting that much coke is a mystery to me. Yakuza thanks us all over the place for helping.

I know she would. You two are perfect for each other. What do you think your parents will say? I swallow hard, something catching in my throat. How can I possibly tell them about any of this? Everyone will. I love Zelda and I want to commit myself completely to her.

Nothing can come between the connection that we have together. Zelda puts a cigarette in her mouth and I watch her take a few drags. She laughs. But, well, it feels good smoking again. She quit her job in Beverly Hills and has started working temporarily as a wardrobe assistant for a deodorant ad. The job seems like a much better fit for her.