Joji Imagines

Come Thru

You sit on the couch, smushed between two strangers. On the opposite side are two love seats, occupied by other strangers. You five had your own corner of the party to hang. With the different grinders and pipes laying around, everyone came over for a hit or two, then left. But you five, you five stuck it out.

"Wanna hit," the guy to the left is holding a pipe. You know who he is. He's Joji. You love his music. He's slouched down in sunglasses. His voice is deep and groggy. He's wearing sweatpants and a dingy t-shirt. At least you were courteous enough to wear Joggers.

You grab the pipe and lighter from his hands, listening intently across the coffee table laid in front of you. You light the weed, the bright burn of the bud sent fire down your lungs. You begin to cough.

"It's not a real hit if you don't cough," the guy to your right jokes as you pass him the pipe.

"Anyways, so Patrick can never roll a joint, and I just wanted a good joint tonight," a girl throws her papers down on the coffee table. She's looking right at you. If she wants one so bad, she should roll it herself.

"Give me those papers, and does anyone have a business card," you ask.

The guy to your left sighs and reaches in his pocket. What a fucking buzzkill. You roll your eyes. He pulls one out and throws it on the coffee table. You begin to rip a corner off and grab weed from the grinder

All eyes are on you as you pack the weed with the side of your pinky finger. You roll your eyes. You've been doing this for years. You begin to roll the paper, careful not to create air pockets. The guy to your left is shaking his head.

You lick the paper lightly, and close the joint up. You pack it some, and pass it across the table. The girl's jaw is wide open.

She shakes her head, "nah. First hit goes to you, kudos."

You laugh and light the joint, then you pass it to her. She hits it and smiles, "that's a good fucking roll." She passes it around.

The dude to your left is looking through his phone, too preoccupied to join the conversation. That kinda sucks, because he's kinda cute. You look over your shoulder. He's uninterested in the party. You look back over the table.

"I just wonder what it would be like, man," the guy to your right is sitting back with his eyes closed.

"No you don't the guy across the table hits the joint.

Your phone buzzes.

Korrin: cute guy next to you ;)
Me: zombie guy next to me :( what do you say we blow this party?
Korrin: but I'm talking to a cute guy, too :(
Me: I'm not talking to a cute guy, I'm dealing with a cute guy looking at his phone next to me. Maybe he's a peeper and is reading this WHOLE conversation
Korrin: then ttyl, get to know him <3

You toss your phone on the couch and roll your eyes. Typical Korrin fashion.

"Another hit," the guy to your left passes you the pipe. You pass it to your right. You were good for now.

"Rather a cigarette," he pulls out a pack of cigarettes.

You nod, "thank you. I ran out today."

He passes you one. You put it in between your lips, "got a light?"

He holds the lighter up to your cigarette and you inhale to light it. You take it out of your mouth and exhale the smoke, "thanks."

He nods and stuffs the lighter in his pocket. You sit up and rest your arms on your knees.