I was awaken in the morning by a enthusiastic Jaime. He had the most delicious Mexican breakfast waiting for me to devour. I smiled and patted his cheek softly, before delving into some alternate universe filled with delicious food.

"Mike went somewhere, called and asked if I'd come over and stay with you for a couple hours. How could I resist?" He grinned his toothy grin.
"God you're perfect, I should've made you mine instead of grumpy old Mike!" I laughed and took a drink of the orange juice.
"Should've, now you'll never get to see all this," He motioned from head to toe.
"Aww man," I pretended to pout.
"How are you feeling?"
"Not too shabby, I could be better," I said quietly.

Honestly, I really just wanted a couple lines to start off my day. I wanted to shower, fuck my boyfriend, and do lots of drugs. But how could I honestly tell my best friend the one thing I was able to hide from him? I finished eating and Jaime swept the dishes away before pushing me out of bed and forcing me into the shower.

I showered and did my hair and make-up before rekindling with Jaime in the living room. He had pulled out of the dvd stand a couple of our mutual favorite movies and had a hot cup of coffee waiting for me.

"If you do any more nice things for me I might combust Jaime," I chuckled and cuddled next to him on the couch, he draped a blanket over me.
"It's just my nature," He shrugged and handed me the warm mug of coffee.

The front door opened and Vic hurriedly shut the door behind him, his arms full of shopping bags. He struggled to carry the armful and I stood up to help him, taking an armful myself and following him into his room, setting them on the bed and looking up at him.

"Shut the door," He said quietly.

I looked out at Jaime and held up a finger, before softly shutting the door. I crossed my arms nervously over my chest.

"I heard about you know," He looked down.
"I overdosed," I spoke honestly.
"I thought so, Mike lied to everyone about it?"
"Yeah, he did."
"How do you feel about that?"
"Scared. Hurt. Worthless."
"Then stop with it Brooks. I know you have it in you to quit. I'll get you help."
"Vic it's just so hard to live without it now. I'm so scared."
"You and Mike are dragging each other down. You guys are falling deeper and deeper into some bullshit I'm scared you'll never get out of," He emptied some bags onto his bed. It was a ton of new shirts and jeans.
"What should I do?"
"Get help," and he got quiet, "or walk away from Mike."

I swear I could hear nothing in that moment. The sound of my beating heart breaking was taking over my eardrums, making the pain sear through my body. Leaving Mike? I swear I wasn't capable of walking away from Mike unless he absolutely wanted me to.

"I-I can't," I squeaked, panicking quickly.
"It's one of two options Brooklyn," He said calmly.
"Jaime's in the living room by himself," I looked down and walked out of his room, shutting the door behind me quietly.

Mike was sitting on the couch and Jaime was nowhere to be found. I smiled softly looking at my tall, tanned, tattooed boyfriend. He had been my everything since I was sixteen years old. He was high, that much I already knew. I could feel a tremble starting in my hands, knowing he'd practically rip me apart if I dare asked for some coke. Instead I nodded toward the room, hoping having sex would keep me from completely falling to pieces.

He led me into the bedroom and began kissing me slightly. He laced our fingers together before stopping abruptly and looking at me.

"Your hands are clammy and shaking uncontrollably."

I nodded my head shamefully.

"Anxiety?"

I nodded my head once more.

"You need a line?"

I looked at him, my stomach churning sickeningly.

"We need to go get help," He closed his eyes.
"Mike I don't want to be away from you, I don't know how to be away from you."
"Brooklyn we're addicted to hard drugs, it's affecting our everyday life. We need help."

I stared at our slim bodies in our bathroom mirror. I didn't want help.

I said nothing but stared at him instead, hoping everything he was saying was just one of his stupid in the moment ideas. I just laid against his body, still shaking, but breathing deeply.

"There's a little left in my dirty jeans pocket," He let go of me.

I felt disgusting scrambling to the hamper, pulling out his dirty jeans and the little baggy falling into my hands. His keys were my quickest way to inhale the dirty powder. I sniffed twice, before my body slipped into the all to familiar euphoria I had grown addicted to.

Everything that worried me had slipped away. All the disturbing thoughts about being separated from my better half were gone with the wind. All the shaking had disappeared and the only thing on my mind was how perfect Michael Fuentes looked laying in our bed.

"You're the best thing that had ever happened to me Michael," I said softly, kissing him repeatedly.
"I don't know that that's completely accurate," He held onto me.

Was he doubting all that we were now, too? Was he jumping on the 'Mike & Brooklyn should separate' bandwagon?

None of it mattered for the following half hour. Nothing but sleeping with my boyfriend mattered.