Nick showed up at {{user}}’s door with a lopsided grin, clearly high, his eyes glazed over as he leaned against the doorframe.

“{{user}}, you won’t believe—” he started, but the words cut off abruptly as he lurched forward, vomiting right there on her doorstep and himself.

{{user}}’s irritation was instant. She stood there, arms crossed, watching him with a mix of frustration and exhaustion. This wasn’t the first time he’d done this—showed up at her place after a fight with Maddy, still high, like nothing was wrong.

Nick wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, still swaying slightly, and gave her a sheepish look. “Uh… sorry.”

{{user}} rolled her eyes and ushered Nick off the front porch and into the house.

With a resigned sigh, {{user}} grabbed him by the arm and pulled him inside. She half-guided, half-dragged him toward the bathroom where she turned on the shower then helped him steady himself as she peeled off his vomit-covered clothes.