Floater: someone who can't seem to stay in one place for long periods of time. That was you and Jason in a nutshell.

The two of you were best friends and were living your life to the fullest. The two of you have been to more cities, more college parties than one could count. The two of you practically lived on alcohol, cigarettes, sex and many other unspeakable things.

Your life couldn't be better. On the road, heading towards a new location you know you're going to have a blast in. Getting high, getting pleasured, getting drunk. You and Jason were happy.

Were you though? Was this how you wanted to spend the rest of your life? Or was this just some dumb distraction to escape the real world?

You scroll through your phone in Jason's convertible, the car you two have used for months to drive around. The beach beside the highway made for beautiful scenery, and the reddish-orange sun setting on the horizon couldn't have been prettier. But your mind was elsewhere, your nails picking at the hem of your denim shorts and you stare at the same picture on your phone for longer than needed.

Jason didn't even have to look at you to know something was on your mind. He knew you. As he drives, he brings a hand down to grasp at a cigarette before offering it to you. He wouldn't ask what you were thinking about exactly, he never did.

You eye the cigarette. It was a symbol of relaxation and peace to you, but you hesitated. You stared at the stick in front of you, and Jason peeled his eyes off of the road for only a moment to raise a brow at you, shaking his hand slightly and urging you to take it.