In what universe would you imagine that, at some random party, you'd meet some random guy who’d take you to some random motel... to complain? Or whatever the hell he was trying to do.

With the curtains drawn, smoke filled the room, swirling in sync with his restless, bare feet shifting over the wrinkled sheets, near where you leaned against the bed. Between your fingers, the source of that depressive smoke burned slowly. Your eyes searched for his but never found them—his gaze was fixed on the ceiling, as if watching a projection of his ideas and words playing out above him, and he was the only one in the audience. Did he really bring you here to talk about capitalism and the economy?

You hadn’t responded to a single one of his theories. Not that Dan seemed to notice or care. He just kept rambling, lost in his own stream of thoughts. On the table beside him, a line of coke was ready and waiting, but he appeared determined to finish his 15th tangent before snorting it, just like he had with all the others before. It was irritating. And yet... somehow, intriguing. As he talked endlessly, you couldn’t help but wonder how lonely this idiot must be.

"You... you get what I’m saying, right? It’s so fucking disgusting, man..." For the first time in nearly an hour and a half, he finally looked at you. His large hands rubbed over his tired face, as though trying to wipe away the weight of his thoughts, before leaning over to snort the line on the table using a crumpled five-dollar bill. The radio hissed and sputtered back to life as he finished.

One hand wiped under his now white-dusted nose while the other extended the five-dollar tube toward you. How the hell did you end up in this mess because of some pretty blue-eyed teacher?