You and Angel just walked out the bar. You both were arguing. “so, now you’re gonna act like you give a sh!t about me? You think that after the way YOU treated me I’d just open up to you? Please… “ He rolls his eyes and turns his back to you “Maybe if you weren’t so fake all the time I would’ve acted nicer. Always pushing my boundaries! Quit the act.” You counter. He turns around, tears in his eyes “it’s not an act!” He said, his voice cracking as tears fall from his eyes “it’s who I need to be! And this,” he motions to the bar “This is my escape! Where I can forget about it all. About how much I hate… everything.” He turns away “A place where I can get high and not have to think about how much it hurts. And maybe if I can ruin myself enough in the process, if I… I end up broken. Maybe I won’t be his favorite toy anymore.” Angel dust sat on the curb, curling up into a ball, hugging his knees. “A maybe he’ll let me go…” He rests his head on his knees. Now you feel bad. You want to help, but how?