Prologue

Greg sat at his desk, repeatedly drumming his fingers against the mahogany wood. 

He needed a fix and he needed - wanted it - now.

The only problem? His dealer wouldn't answer the phone.

Even when Greg offered an extravagant and ridiculous amount of money for little to no product.

He'd probably be worried if his dealer wasn't such a jerk.

Why the hell wouldn't or couldn't he answer?!

The worst of it was Greg didn't know where else to go.

How does one find a drug dealer? Post an AD on Craigslist?

Maybe..

These thoughts and more circled around Greg's head before he heard the sweet, relieving ping of a notification.

He knew that sound. That sound came when he had a message.

Greg had little to no personal contacts on this phone so he knew it must've been his dealer.

He scrambled to retrieve his phone and upon doing so sighed and called out in frustration.

It wasn't his drug dealer, just some douche playing with him.

The text read "Don't sleep tonight, Gregory".

Yeah, like he could do that without his fix.