Who: Marco & Owen Where: The study When: Just after noon
Marco had only been awake for an hour before he was shooting up. It would have been easy to blame it on the fact that They had basically called him and several others names. Stress, or whatever. That would have been a lie, though. They'd given him so much dope at once, and just knowing that it was there made him itch for it. He was going to chase either way. He rode out his high, then returned to the network as he came down. It took too much time to respond to each comment, but really, it was just something to do in his sedated state.
By noon, he was going back for seconds. It felt good to feel normal again. For a few minutes he felt warm, and comfortable, and normal. A few minutes later, he was good and annoyed at himself for not taking care of himself before shooting up twice. It took effort for him to get up and take his normal medication, and by then he was already coming back down, starting to feel numb. He needed food. He wasn't hungry at all, but he needed food.
"Fuck."
It took too long to get down to the kitchen, and he was already on the ground floor when he realized that he'd forgotten his jacket. He probably should have cared that that meant people could see his track marks and scars, but he couldn't convince himself to go back upstairs. He crossed his arms over his chest, hoping that that hid his scars alright enough. He found a banana in the kitchen, and wandered off to find a quiet place. Where had he been last time that was quiet?
Oh, right. The study. There had been nice, comfortable chairs in there too. He shuffled over to the study, and laid down on that same couch he'd found himself on when he'd been dope-sick. Was that couch even comfortable? Fuck, it didn't matter.