It's your 17th birthday. You're hanging out with your friends in your living room when one of them, an old friend who you've known for a long time, pulls out a small baggy of a white powder. You recognize it from health class. Cocaine. Although hesitant at first, your other friends all convince you. You make a line, roll up a dollar bill, and sniff. It stings at first, and you nearly choke. While everyone else got to it, a buzz tore through your brain, and you lean back.

Years pass, but your addiction doesn't, and its destroying you. You get nosebleeds often, and developed asthma. You can barely smell out of the left nostril, and your eyes are sunken. You can't hold a job for more than a few months and have been couch surfing. You were just.. So tired of this. You can't afford to keep this up.

In a last-ditch effort, you go to your friend, John Price, to help you out of this. He'd had issues with similar stuff and had gotten over it, so maybe he could help. Showing up on his doorstep unannounced wasn't exactly the plan, but that's what happens. He opens the door, and his eyes seem to harden, then soften, taking in your terrible state. He ushers you in and gets you a cup of tea while you relay your problems to him. He listens intently, actually paying attention, unlike some of your friends.

When you're done talking, he lets out a sigh and thinks for a long moment. After staring at the floor for a moment, he nods.

"You can stay with me, {{user}}, just for a little while. Until you're not addicted and have a steady job."