Waking up to the feeling of someone sitting on your chest was almost unbearble. I was neck deep in anxiety and it was so heavy it nearly kept me in Mike's bed all day. I sat up finally, feeling myself groggy and depressed.

The seven years between Mike and I was never as big an issue as it was now. I felt like a young kid, still trying to have fun, get high, have sex, and repeat every weekend. Mike was ready to settle down and get clean, with someone who felt equally as passionate about it.

I felt worthless staring at the white residue in the small plastic baggy, and I felt hunger. I felt the hunger to do more drugs. The hunger to escape the life of judgment and the heavy weight of guilt. I scrolled through my phone, hitting the name of Mike and I's drug dealer.

The guy was a hardcore creep, something Mike was clearly aware of and warned me about several times. Mike had never allowed me to go over to John's house alone, he wouldn't in a million years even consider it.

But I was at such a point where nothing mattered except my worthlessness and the high I so desperately needed. The anxiety was corroding away at me from the inside, out. I made the phone call, inquiring about product, and said I'd be over soon.

I needed the drug. Desperately.

The drive to John's decent house was short and bland. As I parked a couple houses away, I walked toward his house with Mike's frown of disapproval sketched into my brain. I tried to shake the image away as John opened the door before I could even knock.

He looked me up and down like I was his lunch and let me passed him. His house was dirty and cluttered but that wasn't what I was interested in. I wanted the cocaine.

"Where's your little boyfriend?"
"Away for awhile," I was biting my nails.
"Aw he let his little girl out of the house to play?"
"John, please, can I just pay for this and go? I don't have time to play this game," I sighed, counting out a few twenties before throwing them down on the table.

He had a desperately hungry twinkle in his eye as he slipped a bag into my hand.

"All the coke you can snort if you rode with me," He whispered creepily against my hair, pulling me close.

I could only think about his bad breath and my sweaty anxiety filled twitches as I closed my heavy eyes and tried to shake the uncertain feelings brewing. I took a deep breath and released John's rough hand before pivoting on one foot and heading out of the house.

I sat in my car, my hands on my knees and head against the steering wheel. I reached into my purse and fished out the baggy, taking a small bump from the bag and letting it ease over my anxiety and insecurities. I felt the rush of adrenaline and euphoria as I rezipped the baggy and threw it back in my purse.

I drove to Mike and Vic's apartment, a small drug-induced smile on my face. I parked my car and headed toward the apartment, seeing Steph waiting out front for me to return.

"Fuck," I cursed, feeling the drugs still floating through my body.

I tried to smile, hoping she wouldn't be able to see right through me. She hugged me, she looked extremely under the weather as she followed me inside.

"What's up?" I asked non-chalantly.
"Just miss Tony a whole lot today," She pulled her knees to her chest, her blond hair looking stunning as usual.
"Have you talked to him today?"
"This morning, but he sounded busy and sidetracked," She mumbled into her knees.
"I'm sure it's just that. He's probably busy and doesn't really have the time to keep you updated."
"I hope so, how about Mike have you talked to him recently?"
"Last night, but we got in a pretty serious fight," I shrugged and looked at the coffee table, my high was wearing off.
"What happened?" She said, the concern laced through her eyebrows.
"He can't handle who I've become," I didn't want to say much more.
"You were just a kid when you two got together, he influenced you, what does he expect?"
"That's what I told him, he was saying some stuff about us not being together if I don't change, but I don't feel like I need to change," I spoke coldly.
"You already have a lot going on. With the eating disorder, trying to keep yourself mentally healthy, why would he put that on your shoulders? I'm going to have Tony talk to him," She shook her head in disgust.
"Please don't, he'd be livid if he found out I was telling you about our fights," I looked at her seriously.
"Are you sure Brook? I don't think you realize what an affect he can have on you, you look tired," She noticed the dark circles.

I wasn't sleeping but a few hours every night. I was pumping through life from the Cocaine, truthfully. It was like my puppet master. It controlled me, my apetite, my sleeping patterns, and lastly my appearance.

"Yeah I'm sure. I'm sure we'll find our way out of this, just like everything else. It's just hard to deal with while he's so far away."
"We need our boys home," She sighed.
"Only four days until they play their L.A. show," I said positively.
"I'm so excited, I can't even begin to explain!"
"Me neither, it should be interesting," I raised my eyebrows.

Truth was, I wasn't excited to see Mike. I wasn't excited to hear more threats about him leaving me. I was slowly beginning to grow cold and distant, knowing the this was merely the calm before the storm. This was just the pre-events before the big show. I took a deep breath, yearning for the only source of comfort I had grown to count on. Cocaine.