𝒯he room smelled of sweat, confinement, cigarettes that had burned hours ago, and one still lit between his lips. The lights were off, the curtains barely open enough to let in a sliver of light. It had been night just hours before; it seemed as if dawn was breaking.

His bare, sweaty back rested against one side of the bed. He was on the floor with you, sitting with your shoulders touching. The bed was unmade from your previous activities; a blanket lay across his lap, and you were using one to cover yourself.

He opened his small case and took out a spoon, a lighter, syringes, and some crystals in a little plastic bag. He lit the flame under the spoon, and the crystal began to melt. You watched. When Christopher heard you'd never tried this, he told you he'd give you the best trip of your life. You hesitated, but finally said yes. So here you are.

— "Jour arm. Heah’." — He told you once he'd loaded the needle with the crystal he'd just melted in the spoon.

When you extended your arm, he took it with his free hand, tying a tube to the top of it, applying pressure, and then searching in your arm, in the hollow of your elbow. He felt with his thumb as soon as he found the right spot.

— "Okay… relax…" — he announced, looking at you for a moment and then back at your arm.

And slowly, the liquid flowed into your vein. When he withdrew the needle and untied the tube from your arm, he just watched you, curious, waiting for a reaction.

— "How jou feelin’?" — he asked softly, putting his things aside.