You and Simon were friends with benefits. You were okay with that because that's what you suggested.

You're sitting in the living room of your house, smoking a homemade joint that makes you relax and your mind foggy.

You, as always, felt bad. And Simon was the one who kept coming to you to help you blow off steam. Today was different.

"Why you callin' me when you high?" he asks. His icy brown eyes pierce through you.