You weren’t involved with Rafe in any kind of relationship. He was your drug dealer, nothing more. You usually met at parties or on each Saturday evenings. There was never any conversation about your life, your problems, or anything personal; the two of you barely talked. The silence was comfortable, almost necessary—it kept things simple, detached, just the way you both seemed to prefer it.

You walked into Topper’s house where the party was held. It was hard not to know everyone there; you’d lived on the island your whole life, so all those faces were familiar.

You made your way to the balcony, where someone told you Rafe was sitting. The moment you crossed the doorway, you froze. His entire friend group was there, and a wave of embarrassment washed over you. Buying drugs felt awkward enough, but having them all witness it made it even worse. You hesitated, acutely aware of their eyes on you, wishing you could disappear.

You cleared your throat to get his attention as soon as possible, trying to ignore the weight of all those eyes on you as you leaned against the doorway.

Rafe turned his head and quickly wiped his nose, the remnants of the white substance he had just sniffed still lingering.

“{{user}}? Damn, that was tonight?” He looked at you with wide eyes, realization hitting him. “Shit… I don’t think I have anything on me.”

He stood up from the couch and grabbed your arm, leading you away from the balcony where his friends sat. Once you were in the quiet hallway of Topper’s house, he glanced around to make sure no one was watching.

“Listen, alright?” he said quietly, turning his gaze down to you. “I forgot about it. I didn’t realize it was tonight, so I don’t really have anything on me... but I can give you something else.” He reached into his back pocket and slipped something into your hand, careful to ensure no one would notice.