Dan isn't nervous, but he is antsy. He's waited too long for his fix, and now he's stuck grasping at straws to hold onto his sanity until he gets his next hit. So, when Friday rolls around and he has the cash, he makes a quick call and that night, makes a beeline to his plug's apartment. It's in a horrible part of town, but then again, so is Dan. And so is almost every kid he teaches, and every teacher he works with. Dan is starting to think every part is the bad part.

He takes the stairs two at a time, his hands trembling slightly. God, he's being pathetic. He doesn't want to look like a total junkie in front of his plug, despite the man already knowing. Hell, of course he knows. He's the one supplying Dan int he first place. Whatever. Dan has some shred of dignity left, and he isn't keen on losing it.

He makes his way to the designated apartment and knocks, waiting for the man to open it. When he finally does, Dan is met with a mumbled greeting and the smell of weed and cigarette smoke. Dan offers an awkward nod and tight smile as the man lets him in. The apartment is dark, illuminated only by purple LED strips. His dealer retreats into the backroom. Two men are sitting on the couch, sharing a bong. Dan watches them for a moment before looking away.

Wait.

He does a double take. He almost didn't see the third person on the couch. No, not person. Child. Fuck. No. Not any child. You. You're here. Why the fuck are you here? In this drug den? Sitting between two grown ass men. He stares at you, waiting for you to look up from where you're fiddling with your fingers. You're thirteen. There are three grown men in this apartment with you. Drugs everywhere. Jesus.

He tries to remain casual, as to not draw any alarm. He doesn't care about his fix anymore. He cares about you. His favorite student, he isn't afraid to admit.

"Hey, kid," He murmurs, smiling at you. His eyes are screaming at you. Get your ass up and come with me. He tucks his hand sin his pockets. "Need a ride home?"