Skate Maloley

Marijuana

I was in the studio in LA today with Nate and Sam. This was just like any other day. We went to the studio, watched them record some songs and that was basically it. I wasn't really bothered since I had fun seeing my boyfriend do what he loves.

As both of the boys came back in from their break, Nate has the usual gross smell around him.

Marijuana.

I hated weed. I hated that Nate was smoking weed, but I couldn't do anything about it since is was his choice of smoking after all.

Whenever I talked with him about weed, he kept cutting my off and changing the subject. But I was so done with it now. I cared about him and his damn health. "Nate," he looked up at me with confusion. "you okay?" He nodded.

"Yeah, sure."

"Can we talk?" Sam and Pierre were doing God knows what, so they didn't hear us.

"Sure." Nate's brain was always a little turned off whenever he smoked.

"You sure marijuana is good for you?" I started simply.

He again nodded and said nothing further. "I don't really think-"

"Who the fuck cares about what you think, babe." He slurred. I raised my brow at him. "You're my girlfriend. Not my guardian or mother. I'm an adult, baby. I don't need a babysitter to tell me what's good and what's not." Nate ranted.

I pursed my lips. "Alright...But I'm just worried you know. That one day you'll end like a junkie or whatever."

"You're calling me a junkie?" He said while raising his brows, paying more attention this time.

I rolled my eyes and sighed. "No. I'm just scared that one day you might be. I want you to be healthy."

"I am healthy, are you my doctor or something like that?"

"Nate. I just want you to be okay. This weed thing is getting crazy. You've been smoking so damn much and I'm not a big fan..."

"Tough shit, honey." He winked. I rolled my eyes and sighed, once again. "Keep doing that, you might run out of breath."

"Can you cut the crap?" I asked, getting pissed.

"Once you stop acting like a fucking mother. Thanks for caring about my pot, but that is definitely none of your concern. Just let it fucking be and if you have a problem with it, then just fucking leave, alright?" Nate snapped while shouting a little.

I stood up, leaving and smashed the door.

I didn't cry... yet. I wasn't someone who cried the entire time. And especially not for this dick head.

All I tried to say is that he might calm down with he weed, I didn't ask him to die for me or something. "(Y/N)?" I heard a voice say.

I turned around and saw Sam who sat next to me. "You alright?"

"Mm-mhh." I hummed, not really wanting to get into the subject.

"Nate's a dick and you know it." I let out a huff. "Especially when he's high. But that doesn't change the fact that he loves you."

I shook my head and laughed. "You sound so corny, Wilk."

"Hey, I'm trying alright." I smiled and looked down at our shoes. "Y'all are going to be alright. Nate's just a junkie and he doesn't know what the fuck he's doing. But you're the one who keeps him a little... uh, satisfied. Without you he would be a bigger fuck-up than he already is."

I chuckled and looked at Sam. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because you both are my friends." He smiled at me. "And I wanted to try the doctor Phil thing out."

That comment made me laugh a little. Sam was a good friend of mine, and I never saw him like this. I kinda liked corny Sam Wilkinson. "But Nate's completely healthy, really. It's just that marijuana makes it a little better for him."

"He's an idiot."

"I know." We sat in a comfortable silence for a while.

"You're good at the doctor Phil thing, you should do it more often." I suggested as a joke.

He scoffed and chuckled. "God no. This was fucking terrible to say."