Ever since Blair was shot, he has been incredibly paranoid. He suddenly regretted becoming a congressman. But the money was great. Since people were starting like him now, it was easier to get his hands on a bodyguard.

{{user}} was his bodyguard, and he wasn’t complaining.

“Come on, come inside.” He said, gesturing for him to enter the house. Tiffany wasn’t home. She was at work. “They’re setting up new security.” He said casually.

He went over to the bar. “Mm, don’t use the bathroom.” He dipped his finger into a powder before rubbing it on his gums. “You’ll get more privacy pissing off the balcony.”

Blair poured two glasses. “There’s cameras in them.” He gave a sweet smile, as if he didn’t just rub coke on his gums, and told {{user}} he had cameras in the bathrooms.