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 ^{(it's beta!)}

As I sit down to write this I am only beginning to come to an understanding about the meaning of these past weeks. Who would have thought my life would have changed so much in such a short period of time? And in sitting down to write a similar story about myself just a few months ago... well I guess it would have been inconsequential.

I enter a room and slowly survey the party. People dancing, a mess of sex that I must navigate through to get to my seat on the other side of the room. Clearly he's trying to intimidate me. I sit down and we begin to talk, first about the girls. Then about weather. I roll myself a cigarette, patiently. I light it, thinking back to the first time I smoked. Finally he gets to the point and we begin to talk business. The whorl of colour and unadulterated youth behind us is irrelevant and I think I might actually accomplish something today. This guy is legit.

Unlike most of my days as of recent, reader. I get high every day, drinking champagne and reading about something or other. I'm a good tycoon but I'm a loner. All of my friends are dead or moved away - there's nothing here for them. Some people tell me there's nothing here for me either. But they're wrong. I live this for a reason, for many reasons. I make my money here and if I want that brunette tonight I can take that blonde out tomorrow. I'm free, and that's what matters the most.

Anyway, about four months ago I decided to go out for pizza. I was really hungry after going to the gym that day, but too lazy to make my own food. I need a fucking girlfriend. It was a short distance so I decided to walk. I threw on my jacket and opened the door.

I strolled down the abandoned sidewalk thinking about how long it had been since I had a girlfriend. Not like I really need one, I don’t want another pregnancy on my hands. Girls are so crazy, I just don’t understand how they can live like they do. I’m just hungry, I guess. Tired and hungry and stressed out. As I open the door to the pizza place, Omnomaurant, I am met by the gaze of a friend, as if he is waiting for something. A rarity these days, just another guy from back in the day. If he’s not a friend, he’s the closest I’ve got. Someone I can be straight with. I can’t trust him, but I don’t trust anyone anyway.

“Ey, Logan,” he says to me, as the door slams.

“Hey man, what’s up, how’ve you been?”

“All, right man, you know how it goes. What’s up Gabriel? I know you’re not here for the pizza.”

We both smile and I sit at the board, patiently positioning the pieces until my army is ready to face his, woodenly staring back.

“You’re soaking wet. You look like an idiot.”

“I walked here. Trying to save a little money on gas and I hate parking in the city.

”Yeah whatever. Use an umbrella.”

“I didn’t notice a little rain, big deal.”

“Man, it’s pouring out there there’s something wrong with you.”

“There’s nothing wrong with me, Jesus you’re pissing me off today.”

I pause.

“What.”

“You won’t be saying that in a couple hours, man, chill. Hey, what are you doing with your life these days?”

“Nada man, same shit I did yesterday, same shit I’m gonna do tomorrow. Tonight is pizza night when I come here to chill with you and you keep asking me like you expect there to be more zing than that. My life isn’t the lemon zest of all the flavours of life.”

“Oh yeah well what flavour is it that?”

“My life tastes like ice, bitch. I have nothing.”

“Maybe you can work on your game a little then we’ll talk cold. You can walk a block in a downpour but you gotta prove you’re cold on the inside.”

“Whadda ya got for me this week, Gabe babe.”

“What, the food, I got you a slice.”

“A slice, you bastard, you know I’m gaining weight, I need more than that.”

“Well I got you a slice what are you gonna do about it?”

“Wait, I’m confused are we talking about the drugs here, is this code?”

“I’m trying to be subtle here.”

“Oh sorry, please do continue,” I said with sarcastic emphasis.

Gabe looked me in the eye and passed me a napkin. It had some writing and basic math scrawled across it lightly in pen.

Unimpressed, I crushed it into a ball. “Gabe, I told you I wanna make money. We sold that shit in high school. I’m not a pot dealer anymore.”

“You’re not ready.”

“I am ready.” I met his stare; empty, cold and hungry. “Look man, I know you need a partner. I have the money. Stop being such a god damn pussy.”

“So what should we call you, what’s gonna be your thug name Mr. Big Guy?”

“Fuck it my name is Logan. I don’t need a thug name.”

“Logan my man, I see the way you live. You’re just another college kid who moves in at the beginning of the semester and moves out in the end. Let’s get real. Check.”

“Yeah and I want in so deal with this reality, mate.”

“I'm getting some guys together. I’ll let you know next week.”

I get up to leave. "Here's my card."