Second Year

midnight city

3.

Midnight City

Waiting in a car
Waiting for a ride in the dark
Drinking in the lights
Following the neon signs

💜

Skye

I bring the cigarette up to my warm lips, breathing in and releasing, but coughing. Melissa laughs next to me, taking the long slim roll from my fingers, smoking it herself as she keeps her hands on the wheel.

"Bruv, you're so bad at it. It's not that hard."

"It is when you grew up in a house with only a smoking father who did outside the bedroom window and that was it. I'm very inexperienced.", I defend myself.

"What shoe size do you think I am, Skye?"

I furrow my eyebrows. "6 or 7, why?"

"I'm a 6, and I was 6 years old when I smoked my first cigarette. I was a natural. 12 when I smoked my first joint, but that's only for special occasions because I actually hate that shit. Makes you paranoid about everything. I was terrible for it there 2 years back, I called the Gardaì because I dropped a fucking fork while I was eating some pizza."

"You were eating a pizza with a fork? You're fucking stupid."

"See what I mean? Never touch the stuff. The thing with fags and vapes, they'll hurt your lungs, but it's a slower process. Weed fucks with your brain, makes you go crazy. Even if it doesn't kill, I think madness is worse than death. I'd take death anyday over madness."

I take a sip out of my new can of Monster. "You're right. But is it not weird to think that your lungs are breaking down slowly until you get a lung cancer diagnosis and you die within 5 years? Your teeth and nails becoming yellow and shit?"

"Someone took a second year science class."

"I did, and I learned that theres tar in those shits. Like, the annoying stuff on the roads. Shit sticks to your lungs and makes em look like what happened when my sis tried to cook the turkey one year."

"Ok, boomer.", Melissa chuckles, and I scoff.

"I'm literally 6 months older than you. I'm not that old. You just mad because I'm right."

"You know Monster once put a 17 year old British boy in hospital and he nearly died?"

"You know teenagers are hospitalised and die daily because of smoking, drink and drugs, and theres rehab centres set up especially for them?"

Melissa glares over at me. "Fuck off."

"Lemme just say if you need a new liver or lungs, I'm not your girl. Saving that shit for my sister if she ever needs that."

"Bitch, you in love with your sister or something?"

"First off, we don't live in Alabama. And second off, the girl is engaged. And lastly, the only person I've ever liked is the gay idiot who lives in my house and that was a result of fuckin trauma."

"Good. I don't fuck with incest. Imagine how much of a fucking moron you have to me to fool around with someone in your bloodstream. Shits disgusting. I'm open to everything but that and kiddyfiddling."

"Yeah, theres some dirty sickos in the world."

I pick up the brown packet of cigarettes, looking at the photo of a blackened heart. I find it amusing how people think that can only happen physically and with cigarettes. A blackened heart is one of the heaviest weights in the world. I can't imagine how a folk with lung cancer feels.

Nonetheless, I take one out and put in my lips, Melissa automatically reaching up to light it.

"Will you try getting it right this time? Its miserable to watch an amateur."

I roll my eyes, before inhaling, getting it right this time.

"Yeah, I think I could get used to this."

Melissa smiles. "That's the job."

Driving through the city, I notice that theres barely anyone around. August is the most boring month for this city. The only necessary shopping trips are back to school, and all that's sorted at the beginning of the month. I'm so happy to be entering my final year of school so I don't have to take part in that bullshit any longer. The older I get, the more I realise that every event in life is commercialized to the max.

"Fuck, I love M83.", Melissa says as Reunion plays. "Shit actually makes you feel something."

"They're highly underrated." I stick the cigarette out the slightly opened window, flicking the ashes out into the wind.

"Bastard. I have to pull in and fill her up. You want anything from the shop?"

"Nah, I'll just stay here."

She pulls into a Circle K and aligns the bottom of the car near the pumps, then stops the car and starts filling it. I continue smoking the strong menthol tobacco stick, getting used to its burning sensation.

When I see Melissa go into the shop, I take a moment to lightly pull up the sleeve of my hoodie, taking notice of the red lines lining my wrist.

Go on, you fool. You deserve it for being stupid enough to smoke a cigarette. Do it quickly before she comes back. Come on, hurry. That's the job. Now, quick, down with the sleeve, stop the whimpering like a babby and shut up before she throws us out and makes us walk all the way back to town together when she realises what a freak you are.

"I just got you some skittles and pringles. Can't let you go hungry.", Melissa says as she comes back and sits back into her seat, handing me the green bag and purple can.

"Thanks."

"Hey, you ok? That first smoke wasn't too much for you, was it?", she asks with concern.

"No, I'm fine. Just tired."

You're always tired.

"Want me to take you home? We can do it again tomorrow night, fine with me."

"Ok. I'm so sorry."

"Nah, you're good. Mental health and sleep first." She smiles.

I give her a weak smile back and we drive out of the carpark and back into the lights of the city, M83 still playing.

💜

Omg this book exists hiiiii