Nolan leans against the wall, arms crossed like he owns the place. “Alexei wants to meet again. Few new investors. Easy money. Fun night.”
I feel Adriana’s gaze before I look at her. She drops two little white baggies onto our beds.
My unfortunate life force.
I force a smirk. “We’ll see how I’m feeling.”
Her hand drags slowly along my shoulder, fingers pressing just enough to remind me she can. I fight the urge to shrug her off. “You say that a lot.”
“I mean it this time,” I say. “Haven’t been feeling great lately.”
Nolan chuckles. “You’ll live. Don’t start getting weak on me now.”
Adriana shoots him a look, but it’s gone as fast as it came. Then she turns back to me, smile soft, voice sweet. “You boys have been very good about staying out of the press. Thank you.”
I give her exactly what she wants. “I’m not giving up the money and fame. It’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
Nolan watches me a beat too long, that nasty grin still carved into his face. “Good. Keep it up, kid. You’re an incredible talent. Both of you.”
When they finally leave, I sigh.
Micah drops his head back against the wall. “Man. I hate them. I don’t know how you manage sucking up to them like that.”
“Yeah.” My voice comes out rough. “It’s really fucking difficult. They’re not stupid, though. They know that’s all I’m doing.”
He looks at me, his eyes already dulling with resignation. “You gonna—?”
“Yeah,” I cut him off.
The silence that follows is suffocating.
This isn’t about craving anymore. Not even close. This is survival—or maybe just the cruel imitation of it. My body screams for the chemicals, pulse hammering in my temples, thrumming in my throat, pounding in my chest. Every beat is too loud, like my insides are trying to claw their way out.
I set the pills aside, fingers shaking, and reach for my case instead. Micah’s eyes lock onto the heroin as I pull it out, tracking every movement like a predator watching prey. My mind protests, frantic and useless. My body doesn’t care. It’s not listening.
It needs this.
When the needle sinks into my arm, the world detonates. Heat floods me, white-hot relief tearing through my veins. My head falls back, a groan slipping out before I can stop it. Micah says something, but his voice is already fading.
The walls breathe again. Expanding. Contracting. No longer closing in. The TV dissolves into static. Micah’s voice sinks underwater, echoing from somewhere far away. And me?
I’m nowhere.
Just a single heartbeat, floating in the thin, empty space between guilt and relief.
A couple of hours have passed since I had a needle in my arm. The heroin is still blurring my world, but not so much that I need to lie down. The drive to the clinic is quiet except for the low hum of the radio. Emma keeps her hands folded in her lap, her thumb brushing against the inside of her wrist like she’s keeping herself calm. I keep my eyes on the road, counting the traffic lights. My stomach feels like it’s full of heavy ass lead. I wonder if she can tell I’m high right now. Probably, knowing her.
When we pull into the parking lot, she looks over at me and smiles. “You’re doing the right thing, Jude.”
I nod, but it’s a weak one as I pull my hood up. “I hate this. I never worried about this shit before. I...I don’t give a damn about Adriana. And I never exactly cared what happened to me.”
She tenses. “I know.”
We walk inside, and I loathe that I’m shaking. A woman behind the desk hands me a clipboard. Every question feels like a mirror I don’t want to look into. I sign where I have to andhand it back before I can think too much about it, not making eye contact with anyone.
Emma walks up after me to speak with the woman. I can’t hear what she’s saying. Then she sits beside me, close enough that our knees touch. She doesn’t say anything for a while, just lets me breathe. The silence isn’t awkward. It’s grounding. When my leg starts bouncing, she reaches over and stills it with her hand.
“Hey,” she says quietly, “your result should be in by the end of the day. I told them to rush it. And to use a different name when they call you. Um, Nathan.”