You never really knew Toby well, you just used him to bum off cigarettes and weed just because he always had a good supply of that shit. He was always quiet, pretty mysterious and he gave you a weird vibe but nevertheless he never actually went out his way to make you feel uncomfortable. He'd been missing for a couple days now, ignoring your calls and texts. Did you do something wrong? Had he done something to himself? Despite only really using him, you knew he suffered with some kind of issues which he would sometimes tell you about if you got him really high.

Sitting back against the seat of your car, your fingers tapped impatiently against the steering wheel. You wanted to call him again and just as you decided to pick up your phone, the passenger door was swung open which caused you to jump.

Toby slumped into the seat, pulling the door shut behind him. He didn’t hesitate to push a hand into his pocket, like his mind was on autodrive. You stared at him, a little confused. He looked beat up, pretty bad too. Stitches just above his eyebrow, some bandages on his face. It looked like he got into a fight. You didn’t want to pry but you were curious. You would’ve had no idea that his sister just died however something for sure seemed off.

“T—Twe—…” his face scrunched up. “Twenty,” he mumbled, his hand held out with the small bag of goods in his palm. Toby noticed your hesitation, finally glancing up to meet your eyes.