Smoke Me.

Chapter 38: Thirsty

AN: Hi, Smokers. Close your doors. Don't eat while reading this chapter (or do...your choice), and enjoy:

I couldn't pinpoint when or why. But perhaps it was after mom promised to call more often and then didn't. Or maybe it was after Namjoon turned off both phones for the entirety of the days he had spent hammered. The only one that was still turned on being the one he's bought me for Christmas. A phone number that everyone but Fred knew about.

Maybe after the exam, when Kwan's accused us both of being bad friends for letting her wait in front of Namjoon's house or what she thought it was his house for one hour. And neither picked up our phones during that Saturday when Namjoon was busy with Mona and I was busy erasing myself.

But what I now thought was his substance addiction, had lifted up its ugly head and joined hands with mine.

And I didn't mind it much since, despite the fact that we've been teasing each other constantly and some mysterious bruises, I've felt more like his friend than I ever have. While I was enjoying the laced weed and its magical powers.

However, now, on New Year's we weren't allowed to touch each other at all since Bora, Kwan, Sony, and Yeong Cheol were all dancing to the same song, on the same dance floor. We were just a few steps apart and I was starting to think about what I must've done for him not to kiss me before we left the house. And in spite of the newfound emotional pain, every muscle was aching, coated in a weird cold sweat, and knees gave in to gravity with every passing hour, yet, I kept moving.

Bora and Sony were dancing together without hiding that they took their relationship to some sort of a new level. Kwan was dancing with Namjoon or more like, Kwan was dancing around him. And I was left with a chatty Yeong Cheol, pointing out girls while I was faking interest, trying not to freak out because I couldn't remember a thing he's said after he walked away to get a drink.

When the clock struck twelve in the dark club, all we could do while other people kissed around us was to stare straight into each other's eyes through blurry visions.

The music kept going so we kept dancing. They kept drinking so Namjoon kept drinking even though he avoided mentioning to everyone that he's been drinking since noon. How he hadn't vomited until today was throwing all my understanding of the human body out the window. How he appeared and talked like he was more or less sober made my stoner act seem like an amateur-level acting attempt in comparison.

I finished a bottle of water I paid too much for and couldn't get down a whole glass of beer. I didn't participate in most conversations since I was too busy finding an excuse to hide behind trees, near the bushes so I could smoke away whatever ailment took hold of me and wouldn't let go.

The world was slower than it was for the rest. The music was probably much louder as well and some girl's perfume that smelled like cotton candy was slowly killing me with its sweetness.

At some point, we naturally ended up dancing with each other since the girls went to the bathroom, and the two guys went out to get some air.

We wanted to dance. We kept saying that.

But the truth was that neither wanted to stand still.

Neither wanted to admit that we had no idea how the decision of the university that we've picked was going to affect our future.

The level of the university. being just high enough to make me doubt my acceptance letter. And just low enough for everyone to suspect that Namjoon only choose it because I was also accepted somehow.

But no matter what deals I tried to strike in order to convince him to get the education that he deserved, it all ended with: "Losing you isn't worth a lousy diploma."