Part Five,b: Smirk.

Andrew looks outside the massive windows that cover the black room, barren, lifeless and empty of furniture room.
He smirked.
Chris was standing right beside him. He wasn't there a second ago. He wasn't anywhere a second ago. But once he was there, standing beside Andrew, making the same smirk, breathing at the same time as him (not that he had to breathe), standing with his weight on the same foot as him, and looking at the same places as him, he was always there.
Andrew let a small, muffled sound of laughter. It was a bitter, internal sound, made to show neither happiness, nor comfort, not even warmth.
Chris let out the exact same sound, as if Andrew had laughed that little bitter laugh one more time, only through Chris's mouth.
"It's only after you've lost everything-" Andrew started.
"-That you're free to do anything." Chris finished.
They both smirked again.
Andrew fell backwards, slowly as if someone had put the world in slow motion, and instead of landing on his back, he found himself sitting in a comfortable, black, leather sofa. His eyes never left the window. So did Chris's.
"I believe, dear friend. That we have never been so close to the bottom before. Never before did we fall so much. Never Before did we hurt so much, that our bodies, and especially our brains could not accumulate any more pain, and we felt invincible.
We are close to the bottom. Yet where we are now, we can't even imagine what the bottom will be like. We have absolutely nothing to lose. Nothing that we care about so much that it will be a loss if we actually lost it. Except maybe Quetz.
We are all, but we are nothing. As below so above. We only lose what we gain. We may even gain more.
Ladies and gentlemen! Come! See the man that left his world! The man that hurt his Angel, his Goddess, his Muse, his Breath and Soul, the one who held his heart! The man who hurt her so bad, she thinks he is an asshole. The man who is on his way down and he's going mighty fine, if I may say so myself!"
Andrew laughed again, a little more heartily, but still, bitter enough to make a wall cry, and a bolt of iron bend.
Chris spoke now.
"Deliver us from material possession. Deliver us from unwanted everyday needs of the middle worm. Only after disaster can we be ressurected. Nothing is static. Everything is falling apart. You are not your bank accounts,. You are not the clothes you wear. You are not the contents of your wallet. You are not your bowel cancer. You are not your grande latte. You are not the car you drive. You are not your fucking khakis. You have to give up. You have to realize that someday you'll die. Untill you know that, you are useless to us."
Andrew smiled. He was boiling with passion unknown to many.
"Tyler Durden" he said.
"Chuck Palahniuk" Chris said, grinning.
"Amen brother. Amen."