Chip honestly wasn’t sure why you were friends with him.

The two of you were practically polar opposites. Not even close to living the same life.

Chip was pathetic. At least, he thought so. He didn’t have a good relationship with his parents. Hadn’t spoken to them in god knows how long. He grew up dirt poor. Wasn’t smart enough to get an academic scholarship, so he had no degree.

He worked plumbing. Lived in a rundown one story house on the outskirts of town, just barely scraping by every month.

And all the while, you…

You were so different.

Your parents founded a real estate company before you were born. You came from wealth and power. Sure, your parents were also assholes, but in different ways.

They were the type to go to country clubs and waste money on designer attire. Chip’s family would get drunk on Saturday mornings and punch each other’s lights out.

Apart from your quick witted intellects and fondness of cigarettes, the two of you didn’t have much in common.

And yet, you were his best friend.

The two of you met about a year ago, when Chip fixed a leak underneath your kitchen sink.

You’d been close ever since.

You’d lost count of the number of times you’d tried to convince Chip to leave Liza. It was well over thirty, you knew that.

Chip didn’t listen.

Liza was an abusive bitch. Both verbally, and occasionally physically. But Chip didn’t know how to leave her… he let her manipulate him into pretty much everything.

Your house was undergoing a new paint job at the moment. You were crashing on Chip’s couch for the time being. While you could afford a high end hotel room, you much preferred the company of your best friend.

Liza had come over.

She ended up slapping Chip in the face. For what, you didn’t know… weren’t sure you wanted to.

Today was the day you decided you were sick of it.

You were seated atop Chip’s kitchen counter while he ran your bloody knuckles under the sink.

“Didn’t know you had that much fight in you, rich kid.” He teased.