Dancing on Empty Wallets

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Luke shakily dropped his empty, beer bottle to the floor. His eyes were red from staring at the TV. The buttons on his shirt were unfastened. He hadn't worn a pair of pants in what seemed like ages. Luke was wallowing in his own pity. Pity for what, he couldn't make a list.

The young adult sniffed. His nostrils longed for a little more than oxygen, but he didn't have enough for that.

Luke looked at his reflection in his phone. He could have used a shave (three weeks ago). The simple action would put him in the right direction.

He sang to himself on his way to the bathroom. It hurt his head, and he was mostly groaning out old song lyrics that he should have long forgotten. In Luke's mind, there were two distinctive portions. One controlled natural thoughts, his personality, etc. But the other side was solely wrapped around his needs and mindless bad "habits."

"Hey you," Luke darkly chuckled at his reflection. He wet his face and fumbled for the dreaded shaving cream. It didn't do much, to use shaving cream. The one Luke always bought was cheap and reeked of a hospital. Nevertheless, he coated his face in the foam and slid a straight line down his cheek.

The first few strokes were smooth and easy, but then, Luke's hands twitched. It was as if his brain wanted that so badly, it was telling his hands not to function. Luke cut himself, directly on the side of his cheek.

"OW!" Luke hissed. He quickly ran a damp washcloth with cool water over the fresh wound.

"Great," He added.

A nice, tender scratch would form close to his chin.

It was bewildering how Luke's lifestyle had yet to change his looks. He still had dull, blue eyes and pouty lips. His hair was greasy more frequently, but his cheekbones were always beautifully hallowed. His eyebrows were always furrowed at each concentrative task at hand. Even if the said task was next to impossible with his shaky hands.

Luke looked dumb in boxers and a button-down. The boxers weren't his. He was sure that they belonged to someone close to him, but each time he thought about it, he was reminded of what he wanted.

Luke's had a migraine. It throbbed behind his eyes and pulsed through his temples.

"What I wouldn't do for a line right now," He mumbled as he searched his pile of dirty clothes. He needed to at least find something different to wear.

If Luke had money, he wouldn't look like this. He would be on the floor with Calum, screaming some song at the top of his lungs until his chest locked up. Unfortunately, Luke was broke. Again. He was afraid that his symptoms would soon become unbearable.

Luke's phone buzzed, causing him to trip over the pile of dirty laundry. It was his own fault. He shouldn't try to answer the phone whilst putting on pants.

"ASHTON," the screen read.

"Ashton!" Luke said internally. An imaginary lightbulb appeared over his head.

"Luke?" Ashton's voice heard Luke's head. When did everything become so vibrant on Earth? Especially Ashton's bird-like voice.

"Hey man," Luke tried to make his voice sound deeper.

"I was just gonna tell you that you took my underwear again," Ashton sighed.

"Oh, these are yours?" Luke checked to see if they had Ashton's signature stitched into the seam, "I'm sorry, man."

"Whatever. Just have the back soon," Ashton scoffed on the other line.

"Wait, Ashton!" Luke panicked. He almost forgot his brilliant idea.

"Yes?"

"Can I borrow some money?" Luke shifted on his feet as he zipped his zipper on his jeans. He ran a hand through his disheveled curls.

"How much?"

"About $200.00?" Luke sounded squeaky. He was suddenly nervous to ask for so much.

"Fine."

Ashton had money. He was wise with it. He made investments, and he was such a good friend that he could never say no to anyone who asked to lend money. Luke was just a bum who was using his friend's kindness to feed his addiction.

Luke's breath started to fade of the beer he had drunk. He accidentally crunched the glass under his boots. He didn't bother to clean it up. The broken shards reminded him of everything in his life. He laughed, only on the inside though.

-------------------

Ashton's money bought good drugs. Luke snorted a thin line off of Calum's toned thigh. He giggled when he couldn't feel his headache any longer. Each time, Luke's pupils would dilate, and his heart would shrink a little bit. He was feeling a little less. He was just becoming another interdependent human. He was pathetic.

Calum was the only one who didn't make Luke stop, or maybe, they didn't know. Luke wondered briefly if Ashton had figured out what was wrong with him.

The walls were pleaded with some sort of fabric. Luke wondered how Calum got them that way. Then he started to feel really excited. He wanted to hit Calum's punching bag. He wanted to roll around on Calum's bed. He couldn't keep his mind focused on one thing at a time.

Calum was playing with an 8-ball toy. The two were lying beside each other on the floor. Calum's head was beside Luke's, but their bodies were upside down from a bird's eye perspecitive.

"Will I go to rehab?" The Maori boy joked. He reached for a cigarette on his nightstand. He shook the small black ball with the other. When Luke and he looked at the ball it read, "Maybe someday."

The answered satisfied them both.

-------------------

Now sometimes, Luke would do this thing where he'd sprint all the way to Ashton's house. He would have so much energy that he didn't need to take his car. Luke would wait for Ashton to answer like a dog waiting to be let inside.

"Oh, hey Luke." Ashton didn't have a shirt on.

Luke sniffed, his eyes would wonder; he loved seeing Ashton.

"Hey Ashton!" Luke chirped.

Ashton couldn't ever put his finger on days like this. He didn't understand the blond boy at all. He'd always let Luke in, and somehow they'd end up making out or playing board games. Ashton was a naturally hyper person. Luke was not, so it always excited Ashton to see Luke so happy to be alive.

---------------------

Their old songs played throughout Luke's house. He was back to wearing his button-down and boxers. He was washed up more and more frequently now. It was storming outside when he answered his door.

Ashton was stood with a green poncho and an angry expression. His lashes were coated with eye droplets.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Ashton asked.

"I'm sorry?" Luke scratched his stomach underneath his bellybutton.

"I...can't believe...all this time. I thought we were friends!" Ashton inhaled deeply.

Luke rubbed his aching head. Ashton was so loud.

"What are you talking about?"

"GET HELP OR I'M GOING TO STOP BEING FRIENDS WITH YOU!"

"Ashton, I'm fine."

"BULLSHIT!" Ashton's jaw always clenched when he was pissed.

"It's not for real. It's all fun," The younger of the two frowned.

"Then you don't have me."

That was all Ashton said when he left Luke at his dumpy apartment. Empty wallet, empty baggies of drugs, and what he later found to be the emptiest. An empty heart.

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this is dumb---so dumb I just wanted to write something not smut for once...I like to get ideas started as one-shots.

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