Part 28

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I don't want to cry anymore. It's been a month since Jimin pushed me aside, and I hate feeling this weak and useless.

I had given myself to him. I had let my walls come down and had grown feelings for him just for him to push me away like he didn't even like me in the first place. It hurts to know that the guy that I had fallen for believed such a tasteless lie coming from the mouth of someone he had never even met before.

Now I'm back to where I started. I lock all of my emotions away, pretending like I don't care as I continue to work for the man that ruined my brief happiness. I only speak to Justin if I have to, only the fact that I promised my brother that I would work for him keeping me here.

I lazily roll up a twenty dollar bill from my purse before bringing it up to my nose, snorting another line of the white powder that I have in front of me. The flat surface of my desk used to have six lines on top of it, the top now empty aside from the twenty that falls from my hand as I wipe underneath my nose with my finger.

I close my eyes as I wait to feel the drip at the back of my throat, wanting nothing more than to be beside Jimin as his warm arms wrap around me. That isn't going to happen any time soon though, so now I'm stuck using drugs in order to feel something; anything.

I stopped using for a while when I met Jimin, but now that he's gone, I have nothing to distract me from the loneliness that I constantly feel.

"You know, cocaine is bad for you."

I hum in agreement as Taylor steps into my room, the bed beside me dipping as she takes a seat. She sighs when I don't look at her, her reaching out to latch onto my arm.

"Why do you do it anyway?" she asks quietly, it almost too soft for me to hear her.

"Because the effects of cocaine last much longer than meth does" is my simple answer, her hold on me tightening. I can feel it when she shakes her head, probably already giving up on trying to make me see reason. She has never liked the fact that I help her brother sell drugs, her hating the idea even more when I started using them as well.

She doesn't understand though. I'm not like her. I can't deal with my problems the way that she does it, pushing them down until they all but disappear. I know that using depression as an excuse is wrong, but I do it anyway. I know that I shouldn't be using drugs to help myself get through it, but I do. I wasn't strong enough. I let it get to me, and now I'm not sure how to get out. I've grown dependent on the way the drugs make me feel. I love the way they make me forget about everything for a little while, them chemically changing the way my brain works.

"Justin wants you downstairs" she says as she stands up, disappointment coloring her voice. "He says that some men are giving him trouble with his deal, and he needs you to be there."

I can't help but roll my eyes as I stand up and follow her out, it obvious why Justin needs me. He might not have said it, but I know whats happening. He must be in a meeting right now, but they didn't tell him who the leader was. We have tons of men in our gang, but everyone knows that Justin is our leader. If he's sending for me now, he must be having trouble negotiating with them and wants me to find out who the leader is so that I can threaten them.

It's a good idea on his part, since I'm more observant than him and can find the leader within a couple of minutes. Lets just hope that this end quickly because I am beginning to feel the effects of the cocaine now. I can feel it as my heart rate picks up as I walk down the stairs, the room growing abnormally hot. I quickly strip out of my jacket, leaving me in a pair of shorts and a tank top as Justin's voice grows louder.

I stop when I hear someone's voice that I had hoped I would not, my eyes widening as my hand rests on the door. My high is short lived, it changing from making me exhilarated and energized to irritated and angry.

"Why can't you just........CJ?"

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