𝘄𝗱𝘄 𝗯𝘅𝗯 ᵒⁿᵉˢʰᵒᵗˢ

Stoned Cold

Ship: Jarbyn

Corbyn was an ice bitch with a cold heart. He was always serious and in no mood for games or fun play. Without a care in the world, he walked down one of the many halls in his prison so called school sending out daggers and death glares to anyone who made eye contact with him.

He was used to the people shrinking down to one size whenever he neared them. He was used to the murmurs and quiet yet effective gossip and rumors. The only reason why he comes to the hell hole was so he could find an excuse to sell drugs.

A small yet unknown organization that runs only within him and his group. Not friends, just acquaintances. He needed the money so he could get out of the no good of a town and find somewhere that's actually at peace.

Without his mother constantly nagging about his well being, acting as if she actually cared. His siblings who he had stopped setting a good example for once he found out that it was a waste and that they have no regard for him.

His father who left him home alone with Saskia at the age six saying that he will come back before midnight. He always came back drunk with another woman's perfume. Corbyn was smart at a young age and knew that his father was cheating on his mother, yet not fully aware of the actual situation.

One night he didn't come home, he was found later at a bar with a bullet hole through the skull of his head and a bullet stuck in his family's heart.

Corbyn had nothing waiting for his home town. The only worry that's running through his mind is that if his customers has their money or not.

"Double." Corbyn chuckled at his usual customer, not caring to know about his name before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a joint. The new found boldness of the band geek made corbyn want to laugh hysterically at him but he kept it in.

Rule one: never ever show your emotions to people. That's how the organization works. They ask what they want, they give you money, no small talk, you give them what they want. You walk the other way. The other person walks the other way.

He raised an eyebrow that made the scrawny kid inferior and that almost made a smile come up to Corbyn's face. The way you can do nothing but move a muscle and that's what it takes for others to flinch just fascinates corbyn.

"Careful, that joint is hardcore." Corbyn didn't mean it. He couldn't care less if that kid dropped dead on the ground from an overdose. He knew it, the other boy did too.

They both just followed the rules. Walking the other way not turning back. They were all puppets of the game. What's sad was that they knew what was happening, yet they didn't care. They were in too deep to realize that this is the epidemic.

● ● ●

Jack was a stoner. He didn't care what it cost him. He just needed to forget about everything. Jack's parents were great actors, trying to hide what was really going on in their lives, but jack was an even greater actor that he should win an Emmy.

They're all trying to protect each other and jack found out the hard way. They're family was breaking apart right under Jack's nose, and he couldn't seem to have the balls to do anything about it. Now they were in the situation where they don't even seem to care.

His friends were just stoner buddies. Whenever he got some new joint and coke they were all nice to him. They know it, they just don't care. The group of stoners were morphed into the drugs to even care about how they were taking advantage of each other.

They are all fools who don't give a shit about the dirty looks and disregarded respect from their peers. They know that they are disappointments, especially jack who gets reminded every single day.