Drug Lord

Chapter V

I open the cabinets of my entertainment center and fish out a metallic pink grinder, a small stash jar and a light blue tinted bong. After transferring a nug from the jar to the grinder, I sit down cross-legged on my bed. 

The party is tonight.

Why does that make me nervous? I've been to countless parties, and even hosted quite a few of them. Why would one make me nervous now?

Maybe it's the fact that Shawn hasn't been home in days I think.

However, I don't know why something like that would make me nervous either.

Shawn had been famous for going MIA, even when my parents were alive. Every so often he would just vanish, the trips lasting anywhere from two to seven days. I later found out from a drunken Shawn who was crawling up the steps at four in the morning, that these trips were usually drinking binges accompanied by lots of girls and drugs and traveling. 

 The first few times, my parents were infuriated, scared – yanno, your basic "my kid is gone!" reaction. I think it was the fourth time he'd gone that I heard my dad make a comment to my mom. 

"Honey," he said. "The boy's out making some mistakes. Let him make 'em. He knows where home is."

Now I don't know if this ever comforted my mom, but it was enough for me. I trusted my dad's judgement, and if he thought Shawn was alright, then Shawn was alright. I never worried about his disappearances after that night.

But this is a very important night. I'm not worried, I am irritated. Yes, very irritated. Not even nervous – I can handle the party by myself, no problem. Shawn's absence just produces the dilemma of people asking me for drugs I cannot provide. That, too, is okay. I'll just simply say that they'd have to contact Shawn, then make a joke about how I was going to have to purchase a leash sooner or later, as he'd gone astray and I had no idea where he was.

Perfect.

I gained my confidence back as I emptied the ashes of the bowl into an ashtray I grabbed from my drawer.

Hm. Was it my amazing self-pep talk that gave me this new confidence or was I just high?

Both, I decide, and walk to my closet.

I pulled out the dress I had purchased just a few weeks before and admired it before putting it on.

It was a simple white, strapless dress, with no designs or stones. The hem fell just above my knees. 

I slipped on a pair of white, lace stilettos, increasing my 5"2' demeanor to a booming 5"5'. Aren't heels lovely? 

After putting my hair in an elegant up-do, I finish applying my make-up just as the doorbell rings, promising that guests have arrived. Before I depart, I look once more into the mirror at my small, slightly pale physique. I try to imagine myself in the womens' equivalence of my father's previous work attire. I saw myself standing at his desk, which would be mine. I saw the frame of the picture of me he kept beside his monitor, but inside of it was his smile – not mine. Thinking back to my brother's last words to me, another wave of confidence swept over and I headed down stairs.

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I know that this was a short chapter, but I really wanted to separate the time before the party and the party itself. I feel the next chapter will be too long if not. 

Please let me know what you think about the story so far cause I'm dying over here for some feedback!

Thanks for reading!