Masks (boyxboy)

23. Before I

Lucas - Flashback

Blair looks striking in a long, bright red dress that sticks to her body like a second skin. She laughs and flirts with a group of boys who eye her from head to toe hungrily, their eyes dark with lust as the dim lights reflect on her skin making her glow.

I watch them from the corner of the old mansion as the party glistens around me. Champagne flutes sparkle in every guest's hand, the white tablecloths shimmer with delicately sewn deep blue flowers all around the center and in my pocket, a transparent little bag filled with white powder dulls my conscience for the night.

My phone vibrates twice in my pocket, an unknown caller it says.

"Blast?" I answer, knowing that the number belongs to Blast, the man who provided me with cocaine all through school and now at university.

"Is it done?" He asks, his voice always muffled by a cloth or altered through a voice changing software. I never know how he is going to sound.

"My girl is on it." I answer proudly and he hangs up. If Blair manages to get this deal done, we get to move the business to London, making Blast a lot richer and me a bit more free.

It all started a year after Edward and I stopped talking, Blair and I got together and I stopped feeling sorry for myself. I wanted to become stronger, more daring, so I ventured off to the streets of Hell, which is what my friends and I called the poor neighborhood of derelict houses that stood behind the forest that surrounded our posh town.

I met Blast as I walked calmly through the streets, taking photographs of every crack and crumble. He threatened to kill me when I accidentally stumbled upon him and his gang pointing a gun at a man who smiled wickedly, expecting the bullet as if it were piercing his brain for a party.

"You can kill me." I'd calmly stated. "But first sell me some of that drug that's piled up behind you." I had nodded to the bags upon bags of cocaine that sat there waiting to be bought. I'd never tried the drug, but what did I have to lose?

Apparently I had given him an idea. Why do I have to sell to the poor bastards who can't even pay me when I can sell to the rich little kids who can blow away their trust funds on an addiction? Was probably his train of thought, since afterwards he offered me a job as his main drug dealer instead of piercing a bullet through my brain.

Through the years, Blair had become my accomplice, she had bargained with Blast to give her a percentage of the sales and she had used her charms to convince people to buy. She was the last person anyone would ever consider to be selling drugs, which made getting caught almost impossible. As Blast and Blair became closer, he had stopped threatening me and instead treated me almost like a friend, except he would not let me quit.

The guilt of seeing my friends stumble through addiction ate me up inside for a while, until one day I just stopped caring. It's their decision, isn't it? The thrill became addictive and though i'd never tried the drug, I started to crave the feeling of holding the little baggie in my hand.

"Follow me." Blair murmurs to the boys who stumble on their feet to follow her out of the lavish ballroom. One of them, a large muscular blonde, lags behind for a bit, unsure of whether or not to continue. Probably a newbie.

"Hey Bobby!" I call out to him, he smiles widely at me and claps my back, recognizing me from some of our first year classes.