Existential Indifference (Joshler)

3. Gerda

Wait to start the song.

***There will be graphic heroin use in this chapter and the mention of sexual behaviour.***

Josh felt like he was going to throw up. He tried to swallow down the anxiety and the dull aches starting to spread through his muscles and bones, but it was fucking hard.

He got off work in ten minutes. He was ten minutes away from going home and shooting up for the second time this week. It used to be once a month, then twice a month, on and on until once a week wasn't enough, but Josh wouldn't be able to survive on that anymore. Now three or four times a week was his minimum.

Looking back, Josh had given up a lot for this stupid drug that he didn't even want to be on anymore. He was still giving up so much. He used to like his job, but he'd left it so he could shoot up more often and not have to worry about his hands shaking or the possibility of drug tests.

Ashley was braver. She still did what he used to do, but somehow she could keep her hands steady as she tattooed people despite shooting up more than once a day.

When Josh was younger, he'd daydreamed about having his own tattoo parlour. He'd given that dream up at twenty-one though to work at a fucking gas station. This was the life he'd chosen for himself, and he wasn't sure if he'd ever forgive himself for that.

Josh watched the teenagers walking through the gas station disinterestedly. He almost wished he'd brought klonopin with him, but he was pretty sure even gas stations weren't very into the idea of their employees snorting pills in the bathrooms. That seemed a little rude seeing as Josh was the one who had to clean those bathrooms anyways, but he wouldn't complain. He couldn't exactly buy pills if he wasn't working here.

The two teenage girls, still wearing their backpacks, walked over to the counter and set down gummy worms and Red Bulls. "And then two cartons of those," the less anxious looking of the two said, pointing to the wall of cigarettes behind him.

"How old are you?" He asked her, knowing full well she wasn't old enough to buy those, regardless of which label she'd had in mind.

"Eighteen," she lied, shifting under his tired gaze.

He hummed in false understanding as he scanned the gummy worms and energy drinks. "You got ID?"

She reached into her pocket and pulled out a plastic card, letting him take it. "Sure."

Josh smirked as he looked it over. "You're thirty-two?"

She blushed. "Yeah."

"I thought you said you were eighteen," he reminded her.

Her blush darkened. "I didn't want you to know I'm old."

"That makes sense," he replied with a grin, ignoring how much his body ached. "You ever smoked these before..." He looked down at the name on the ID before smirking. "...Gerda?"

He'd never seen someone blush this deeply. "Yes, sir."

"You don't gotta call me sir if you're thirty-two, ma'am. You've got ten years on me," he reminded her. "Look, how about this? I keep this shitty ID, and save your lungs the trouble." The girls both started to protest when Josh added, "But I'll pay for your candy and shit if you swear to me you ain't gonna go try this again somewhere."

The girls glanced at each other before looking at him again. They both nodded. "Okay, sir."

"Cool," he told them as he slid them their stuff.

"Why do you care if we smoke anyways? You smell like smoke," the quieter girl asked shyly as they grabbed their things off of the counter.

Josh smirked as he dropped their ridiculous fake ID in the trash before pulling his own wallet out and paying for their candy. "Kid, if you think just smoking cigarettes is what led to me working at a gas station, you're fucking crazy. I smoked when I was your age though. You're what? Fifteen?"