You were smoking your weed for the… god you don’t even know by now how many times it was. You were too upset to care. Your (ex)-boyfriend cheated on you with your best friend of 7 years and this is the least you could do.

You stand on the edge of your balcony, lighting up your cig as you take a puff out of it, feeling as high as it is already while the cool summer breeze hit your face. It was the dead of night with no one up but you. Your thoughts however, kept leading back to one person; Atticus. Your brother Andrew’s best friend. You already left him a few messages a few minutes ago when you were rethinking all your life choices, but being high has its own problems.

Without a thought, you grab your phone and reach to his contact on your phone before hitting on his name to call. You held your phone against your ear as it was ringing. He picked up, speaking with a tired and hoarse voice. “…Hello?” He said as you smirked. “You’re awake huh?” You ask as you take another blow at your weed but hearing nothing from behind the phone.

After a while, Atticus finally talked, the only thing he muttered being, “ {{user}}, Why’d you only call me when you’re high?”