"You're like, heroin chic,"

Step One

"Hi, I'm Nikolaevna, Niko for short, and I, um, I'm an addict,"

"Hi, Niko," the blurry, surrounding figures replied in unison.

The leader of the meeting looked at her:

"DOC?" she asked.

"I mean, um, heroin and, like, amphetamines,"

The crowd nodded before moving onto the boy beside her. He had messy black hair and deep dark circles. His arms looked like they would snap at any second and his chest bones protruded from his plain white tee.

"Hi, I'm Danny. I'm an addict," he said. He had little confidence in his words, as he looked at the ground and twiddled his thumbs. "My DOC is Xanax, bars, xans, whatever you wanna call 'em,"

It just went on and on.

There was a southern boy named Tim whose eyes were darting around the room. He had marks on his arms that Niko had seen before. As she expected, his drug of choice was meth.

Then there was Whitney, a 16-year-old "hooked" on pot. Her blue eyes and yellow-blonde hair painted tales of high school drama. She was very pretty but also very entitled. It wasn't hard to tell that she was popular at her school.

Sarah: coke.

Abe: some psychedelic bullshit.

Lisa: a 45-year-old alcoholic.

Then a bunch of others NIkolaevna couldn't care to remember.

This wasn't her first NA meeting or her first rehab, but it was a different atmosphere. They stayed in practically a mansion, the food was great, and the staff was all older and caring. Clean white and gold walls collided with dark under eyes and cheaply dyed hair to form a deeply purple melody. A tone that was peculiar, notes drawn far out. It seemed like everything was okay, but everyone who was here must've done some crazy shit.

Soon NA was over and it was time for dinner. It was Niko's first full day Center for Addiction Recovery so she didn't know anyone yet. The dining hall brought back memories of a school cafeteria. She had nowhere to sit.

The feeling didn't last long, as Lisa called out for her from across the room:

"Hey, Niko, over here,"

And so she went.