The Evil That Men Do | $UICIDEBOY$ | $CRIM

3: Jaded

Scott's POV

I clenched the steering wheel tightly, thinking about how I just let free coke go like that. What was I thinking? In all reality, I know it was the best choice for me to give it back to her. She was completely right about it. I was losing it, I wanted to relapse, I wanted to just let myself feel something else instead of this mental fucking strain that feels like an anvil sitting on the back of my neck.

She cares about you.

It was enough to stump my train of thought. Being repulsed yet ecstatic about this genuine emotion, it made me feel like a piece of shit for being sick to my stomach. All of these emotions of self hatred, animosity, apathy, self-deprecating and now conflicting emotions because someone showed me that they genuinely cared.

Was it just because she could catch a case? It makes sense, but... It just seemed like a genuine assessment of my character and overall situation. She wasn't dumb. I just don't know her like that.

Again, I can't disregard the fact that she was alone. She was probably worried that I would do something to harm her. Granted, our last interaction in person didn't go so well... I wasn't in my right mind. And calling her to apologize about it?

Man, what was I thinking with that?

She probably thinks I'm a psycho. She hasn't cut us off yet because it's all a matter of money, but I couldn't help but worry she would because of me. I mean, who wouldn't?

Going without drugs was fucking with my train of thought and rational thinking. What am I doing sitting here getting sick to my stomach over a fucking girl for? She was a drug dealer. She was bred to not give a fuck about motherfuckers like me.

I shook my head.

She doesn't care.

My knuckles were white on the steering wheel, thoughts racing. I decided to call Aristos to try and clear my head.

"Sup man. You okay?" He answered.

I sighed heavily, running my palm down my face, just tired of feeling this way. "This sober shit sucks."

"You got that coke to last you a while." He didn't sound thrilled, knowing I intended to relapse.

"No, actually. I don't. I didn't get it."

There was a short silence. "Huh?"

"I didn't get it."

"I mean, I'm proud of you, bro, but what switched in your head? You sounded set when I tried to talk you out of it," he said, sounding more surprised than anything.

"Ugh," I started, pulling my curls, letting them bounce as I let them go. I needed a fucking stress ball or something. Or just a squishy pair of tits to bury my face in. "Winnie the fucking Pooh got into my fucking head. It changed my mind."

"Woah, the plug changed your mind?"

I nodded. "Man... She acted like she gave a fuck about scum like me. I feel like she just didn't want it to trace back to her," I rambled.

Aristos laughed. "No, dude, she's smart enough to not get caught by the feds. Also, who are you to snitch on her? I don't think she was concerned about getting caught."

"It's got me fucking mad right now. Pissed and confused."

"You're mad?"

I scoffed. "Fuck yes I am. I let off drugs. She was going to give them to me, bro. She literally offered it without charge... And then she..." I paused. "Ugh, this is so fucking lame man."