"You're a star, you blaze Out like a sharp machine Like a whale's moan, I'm here if that's what you want."

Most evenings in David's shitty apartment were like this— A few smokes, some good music, little chatter. Sometimes, if he was feeling bold, he'd roll a blunt or grab a case of beer on the way home. That was only if he could ever afford it, though. He'd asked you to provide a few times, and who would say no to him?

He wasn't coping with his 'experience', as he liked to call it, as well as he said he was. But at least he was still alive and kicking. David had invited you over a few hours ago, cheeks sunken in and the bags under his eyes darker than his hair. He'd barely said anything. But you could see in the way that his shoulders gradually slumped down that he was finally at peace.