Love N Smoke

Spill of Fate

       The party pulsed with energy as Zeion navigated through the crowd. The rhythmic beats of rap music resonated in his chest, drawing him in like a magnet. His transition from the world of spray painting to the world of parties was a stark contrast, but he welcomed the change of pace.

Zeion had found a way to make some money at the party, by handing out pills to the partygoers. He had set up a makeshift "snack" station in a corner of the room, and it was proving to be quite the hit. The array of pills, powders, and herbs attracted a steady stream of people.

Zeion's life had always been about survival and taking care of his family, but in this moment, he allowed himself to let loose and savor the atmosphere of the party.

Amidst the lively chatter and the thumping bass, Zeion had nearly forgotten about his earlier encounter with Ray and the invitation to the party. But as he glanced around, he couldn't help but wonder if he would spot his best friend in the crowd.

Then, as fate would have it, a familiar face approached his station. Zeion's eyes widened as he saw Ray weaving his way through the partygoers.

"Zeion!" Ray exclaimed, a grin spreading across his face as he reached his friend. "You made it! How's the party treating you?"

Zeion chuckled, pleased to see a familiar face in the sea of strangers. "It's not bad," he replied, smirking, "I'm making some extra dough, too."

As they caught up, Zeion and Ray laughed and shared stories of their daily lives. Zeion's newfound role as a drug dealer at the party seemed worlds apart from his usual pursuits, but he had to do what he could to provide for his family. 

And then, in a twist of fate, as Zeion reached for a drink to hand to a partygoer, his hand brushed against another, and a cold beverage went tumbling through the air. Zeion turned in shock to see the culprit—a blonde girl with a look of surprise mirrored on her face.

"I'm so sorry!" she exclaimed, her voice apologetic as the drink splashed onto Zeion's shirt.

Zeion couldn't help but smile, finding the situation amusing rather than frustrating. "You're good," he said, wiping his shirt with a napkin. "It's just a spill."

Lauren Mills, standing before him, blushed deeply. She hadn't meant to create a mess, especially not on someone who had been so gracious about the accident. "I feel so bad," she admitted. "Let me get you another drink."