Hot Box

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"Is it so bad to want to talk?" Jared asked. "I saw you storming out of the banquet hall. I wanted to make sure you were alright."

"Oh, please. Like you actually care."

"Of course I care. I've cared about you since the moment you helped me on the subway. You restored a bit of hope in me that I might be able to embrace my more feminine side without ridicule from other people. Is that such a bad thing?"

"No," they grumbled. "That's what I want to do with my life. Be a role model for non-binary people as well as those who want to break social norms and embrace their feminine and masculine sides."

"And look at how well you're already doing that," he encouraged. "I feel better about myself already."

"You must be a masochist, because after all the hate I slurred at you, I don't think anyone would ever want to step foot in my direction ever again," they insisted, turning on their heel. "I don't deal with masochists."

"Why not? Aren't you a sadist?" Jared questioned, and Blue stopped walking. He snickered. "I could see it the moment you got off on scolding me. Does Andrew like it when you talk down to him, too?"

"I talked down to you because you're a pretentious asshole who seems to hate my partner. I love Andrew, so you can fuck off. I don't need to deal with the most toxic person in his life," they spat.

Jared's face fell for a moment, confusion and a bit of pain relevant on his face. "Is that what he said? That I'm toxic?"

"Don't play the victim here," they demanded. "He told me about what you used to do to him when he still lived in that house with you. And I heard what you had to say to him about his career. I was there, remember? I don't need to deal with you. He doesn't need to deal with you. Stay out of our lives."

As Blue began to storm away, Jared blocked them. "Go away, Jared, before I place a restraining order on you."

"Listen, I understand why you're so protective of him. I know you want nothing to do with me, but is there any way I can convince you to talk with me hour at most," he pleaded, his eyes boring into their soul.

"Hot box."


"Hot box. Get some weed, we'll go in your bathroom, and we'll hot box it and talk it out. That's the only way I'll agree," they smirked.

Blue assumed he had him trapped. There was no way Jared would be able to purchase some weed in a matter of seconds. And if he miraculously did, they doubted he would ever risk bringing it into a hotel where he could get in trouble and be fined. Especially not with his strict father. And even if that didn't stop him, they would play the victim card and give Jared the karma he deserved for the horrible way he treated Andrew all their lives.

"Alright," he nodded. Pulling out his phone, he sent a quick text message to one of his coworkers and dragged Blue to the elevator. "You're lucky my assistant is a pot head."

"Oh, dear Lord," they sighed.


The two stood in front of the door leading into Jared's hotel room. He smooshed a towel under the door's crevice to keep the exhales inside. Each person's exhale would be another's inhale. They'd get high, and hopefully someone would sniff out the pot and arrested Jared and fine him. As long as they shared the blunt and allowed Jared to take the fall, keeping him lodged by the door.

"Okay," Jared said. He locked the door after he stood up and opened the lid to a wooden box of marijuana. He began to roll a joint and licked the wax paper. He handed it to Blue as he pulled a lighter out of his back pocket.

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