“I only do coke on the weekends to get my mind right.” She says as she’s rolling a bill she pulled from the side of her neon green bra. As if to justify to the others in the room, her actions were right. They are, in her mind as her eyes widen to the inhale of glycerine powder. She’s brought into reality, looking around violently. Pacing back and forth she thinks at a constant rate while he sits there. He lights a cigarette and watches the madness unfold.
“Are you good?” He asks her, contemplating my decision to leave and forget about this whole place. Or stay because of a friend in need.
“I’m ready to fucking party.” She grabs him by the collar of my polo, the rooms barely lit but I can tell through the fluorescent lighting in the background, her eyes were black, demonic almost.
He grins, filling his pride with the evils that lurk among the pits beneath human creation.
“Alright, lets go.”