"I'M SO STUPID."

"Yeah, let it all out bro."

"I CAN'T BELIEVE I LEFT HER."

"Mhmm, keep going. It helps if you have a wall or something to hit. You could punch me if you want. But be careful of course...no need to hurt these babies," Chris lifted his shirt and patted his six pack.

I grunted, then yelped, then cried, grabbing a pillow off his bed and screaming into it.

"I don't get why you're so upset, Nathan. It's just a girl. Unless you did something with her...did you do something with her? I'd be happy but I'm best friends with Sacra's bro so that'd be against the code. So nevermind what I said, keep your hands off her."

I groaned and threw the feather pillow at his face and he ducked, laughing. When Chris Dodgson is high, he's high. Busy smoking cigarettes, he wasn't even paying attention to me as I began to trash his room, throwing all his pillows on the floor and burying myself in them as if they were protecting me from the truth.

Emma Sacra could never like me.

I could never like Emma Sacra.

She's in a fucking wheelchair.

I'm a poor jerk who tried to kiss her after she specifically told me not to.

What. The. Hell. As if I thought we actually had a chance.

"C'mon, I'm gonna have to clean up my room now. Ylvena doesn't work on Friday's." Chris groaned and snuffed out the light of his flame.

"Work for what you want, then you'll get it," I muttered, remembering the piece of advice from my father when he still had his job.

"Huh? Are you high too?" My friend then giggled and dove off his bed into the mound of pillows on top of me.

I grunted and moaned as he accidentally kneed me in the groin while trying to move the pillows away. Then I realized something as Chris wrapped his arms tight around my waist, burying his face in the crook of my neck.

"Work for what you want, then you'll get it," I repeated again, and again, and again. A new mantra.

"Dude. I'm serious. I think you're high." But I laughed as Chris began to rock me back and forth while singing a lullaby. 

I need my guitar.

________|)(|________

As I strummed the last chords of the song, Chris clapped slowly, still kinda "high" from the cigarettes (is it even possible to get high from a cigarette?)

"She'll love it, man. But when I'm sober never mention Emma to me again because I might punch you in the face. A man's gotta protect the young un's, ya know?"

I rolled my eyes and sat back against Chris's bed, thinking about Emma's song.

___

Next update will have two parts: Emma's song in the beginning, and then the chap will continue from her point of view as always.

Have a good weekend guys!! :)

-T