Smoke floated and swirled above Darren’s head, his long, slender, bony fingers lightly tapping a cigarette tray, the butt of his cigarette in between his index and middle finger, loosely held as ash drifted onto the tray.

He let’s out a quiet grunt before leaning back against the worn out couch, the scent of cigarettes and weed lingering in the air.

His eyes hazily drift over the mess of his living room before his cracked phone rings, a blaring sound echoing through the room as he stands with a sigh.

He turns off his phone, fingers quick to set it to silent mode before he stretches and gets to work.

He needed his apartment to look somewhat decent, you deserved that much, especially since you’re his only good friend.