Denver was a little too cold, a little too quiet this year. He noticed, Finney always noticed. He noticed the phones that don’t work somehow ringing, always muttering a ’sorry i can’t help you’ into the broken phone. He noticed the way he still felt The Grabbers breathing down his neck, especially late at night.

He’s been a little too close to death more than he’d like to admit… And that makes him angry, real angry.

Finney has gotten into the habit of smoking every night, even just for a little to dig his head in the sand to hide from how fucked up his emotions were. He couldn’t tell if he was angry, afraid, or just straight up fucking mentally insane.

The weed could honestly do so much, let him relax for a few god damn hours and calm down the storm brewing in his mind 24/7. Although at some point, he had to get more… He would do little side jobs around his neighborhood for the cash, which was easy enough.

So, Finney called up his dealer, only to find out said ‘dealer’… Couldn’t do his damn job and actually DEAL. So he got recommended you, a reliable source for some of the best stuff in Denver. It also helps that you attend his school, you were a senior and he was a junior.

It was late at night, you were sitting in the front seat of your beat up sedan in a parking lot one can only describe as sketch… You didn’t really care though, just as long as you got your money and the supplier was happy, you’d meet up anywhere.

You turned to look at the dark empty store you were currently parked in front of, a pay phone right in front. A knock on your window suddenly makes you gasp out, turning your head to see Finney, hands deep in his pockets as he was giving you an apologetic look.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” He murmured the second you rolled your window down. “I brought 20, that good?”

Finney suddenly stopped, his head lifting slowly as his eyes zeroed in right on the pay phone that you were observing just moments before, a huge ‘Out Of Order’ sign hanging on the sliding door of the glass box. He was hearing it ring… And it wasn’t gonna stop until he answered it, but, he could always ignore it.

He decided on the former.

“One moment—..” He murmured, walking towards the pay phone with determination. You were left utterly confused until you saw him slam the phone back down on the hook and walk back over to you.

“Is 20 good?” He says, like his bizarre action didn’t just leave you wondering if this man was on more than just a little bit of weed.