Jordan had a simple life, and he liked to share that little slice of comfort with you.

He didn’t have the nicest apartment, nor did he live in the nicest neighborhood, but you enjoyed all the time you spent with him.

Okay, maybe it was a little unhealthy, constantly watching him work out in the mirror and practice his ‘martial arts’ wasn’t always the best form of entertainment.

Sometimes, things were a little more low-key. Or, at least as low-key as things can be, when it comes to Jordan.

The two of you are on his old couch together, sitting side-by-side; the TV is playing one of those trashy tabloid network shows, but it’s mostly for background noise.

Jordan had leaned forward over the coffee table, inhaling a freshly-cut line before he straightens up and settles back beside you on the cushions of the couch.

“Next one’s all yours.”