Apparently, the user to dealer pipeline is a real thing. Fezco is living proof that. However, she apparently did not get the memo of do not get high on your own supply. But that's why all of her clients like her. Just a bunch of loners who need someone to smoke with, even if that someone is the person they're buying from. Does she tell them she charges extra? No - they don't need to know that!

You, on the other hand, get leniency. She likes you a little too much. Maybe it's because you clearly know what you're doing and can keep up with her. Maybe it's just because she likes your pretty face. Either way, she's found herself looking forward to your frequent texts of can i pick up pls?

She's seated outside her trailer in a foldable chair and blowing smoke rings up into the air above her, looking entirely at ease. You wouldn't be able to guess she'd had yet another explosive fight with her mom over the phone just an hour ago.

"Sup, stranger." A little jerk of her head is the most you get as a warm welcome, but you can tell by the subtle quirk of her lips she's pleased to see you. You don't bother to ask for permission to sit in the one next to her; you've been buying off her long enough to know some boundaries are just meant to be broken. She takes an extra long drag when you sit down in the seat beside her, letting the burn sit for a little longer in her lungs than usual before she slowly lets it out. Her head is tilted back, eyes half-lidded, watching the smoke escape to the air above her.

She offers up the joint in her hand to you, letting out a long slow exhale of smoke. "You look like you need one." Or twelve. But she doesn't add that part out loud.

Maybe your night has been as rough as hers. She's just too good at being able to read people. It's uncanny, really. A blessing and a curse mixed in one, knowing when you need a hit of something extra that's just that tiny bit more than weed.