Clementine had become a wild child. Born in America but raised abroad, she now had little regard for the expectations of high society. But her reckless ways eventually catch up with her when she is kicked out of college in New York City and forced t...
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"What the fuck is that?" She didn't even have time to drop her bag on the floor. Clementine, staring at the coffee table, asked to none and everyone.
Though it was just them, her and Zico. Having entered the apartment after such a romantic evening, she was a little bit shocked to find a bag of what looked like either flour or cocaine and she had a sick feeling that it was the latter.
"Oh, mierde, sorry I forgot to clean up." Zico, keeping his eyes averted from hers, walked quickly to the table and started to attempt to put the powder back in the large bag, but specks were falling on the floor. Then he just gave up, and sat on the floor, staring at it.
"I fucked up, Clemy," Zico said, keeping his eyes on the table.
"What do you mean?" Clementine asked, panic rising in her voice. "What do you mean you fucked up?"
"I...he overdosed." Zico said, finally moving his eyes to hers.
Clementine's heart came up to her throat.
"Who?" Clementine asked, though she thought she knew, it was just that nothing else came to her head. It was like her worst dreams -nightmares - coming true.
"Jose, my roommate." Then, as if stating his name made him more alert, he got up and recollected himself enough to clean everything up, closing the bag, and throwing it a little bit aggressively on the couch.
He went to go sit on the couch and called her to sit beside him.
Clementine, a little bit shaken, sat beside him and searched for the truth in his eyes, unable to believe how such a perfect night could meet such a disastrous end.
"We were partners," Zico said, holding both of Clementine's hands as in an attempt to calm her down. "Business partners. Before you say anything, its not as if we had much choice, growing up where we did. Coming from where we came from. It's not like you, having everything. Choice above everything."
Clementine wanted to speak, to say something, and opening her mouth in protest she didn't get a chance because he continued talking.
"We weren't supposed to use, though. That's where Jose fell through. We new er did anything hard, though. It was either the streets or...this. And as long as we had it under control, it was great. The money, then notoriety. But it's not as simple, of course. We were lucky at first, swerving all the problems the competitor. But then, the demon was actually on the inside." Zico looked around the room, and Clementine thought he was going to cry for a second.
He let go of her hands and looked at her face.
"Jose started to use. And the problem with the coca is that there's never enough of it, once you do. And its never quite as good as the first time."
Clementine got up off the couch, anger running through her veins,
"So what is this?" She exclaimed angrily, thong her arms up.
"It was a moment of weakness...Like with you! I didn't think we would be together, again, like this. But you were my weakness!" Zico threw his arms now and this was the first time, Clementine realized, that she saw him truly angry.
Her instinct was to recoil. She realized that he was probably in deep trouble. Deeper than she ever could have imagined.
She sat back on the couch in silence and just stared at the wall. The pieces, slowly coming together, one by one.
His disappearances, his money, his notoriety.
She couldn't help it bur she felt cheated. And to think she was ever worried about that other girl. If anything, she felt that there was a new mistress that she would never be able to beat: The drugs.
