A/N: Hey there. Thanks for picking our story to read. Story is written by me and my friend, Emmy. Emmy writes Blaine. I write Kurt.

There will be mention of drug use and nudity, so if you're sensitive, it's not really the fic for you.

Still, hope you enjoy it.

- Kaz and Emmy.

Well, here I am on my way to my first official meeting as editor-in-chief. A self-made man at the age of twenty three.

I wish I felt more like one.

Still, I haven't really got much to complain about. I mean other than having my dream job years before I though it possible, I have an amazing group of friends, a loving family, a great apartment and enough money to live on comfortably for the rest of my life.

I actually have nothing to complain about.

So why do I feel so empty?

I can't let myself think like that now, though. I already have to worry about all the rain on this sidewalk messing up my brand new Geiger boots. If I add my deep emotional issues to the superficial, I'll just collapse into an emotional bundle on the ground and I'll never make it to the meeting.

I'm so lost in my thoughts, I don't notice the edge of a grubby blanket and I trip, almost falling and messing up my pristine and painstakingly chosen outfit.

I take a look at the owner of the blanket over my shoulder as I walk away.

Part of me feels sorry for whoever he is; the rest of me wonders how he could be so inconsiderate, parking in the middle of a busy sidewalk.

How unthoughtful.

His boots kick water from the gutter up into my face and he snags my blanket pulling it into the wet and he almost trips and I'm cold and I'm wet and my blanket is wet and my face is full of gutter water and he looks at me. I know the look well.

Pity.

Disgust.

I decide to hate him and I do because he's happy and clean and I am dirty and wet and unwanted. I'm sure he hates me too. For being a bum. For being inconvenient. For being in the way. But it's okay because I hate him too.

I need a hit. It's been too long and they're close. The bugs. They are close and they are coming and I need a hit. But my cash is low and I already owe Him. The people of New York City are not sympathetic in the rain. They run with umbrellas and newspapers to their next destinations. A fallen coin for a better is gold on a day like this. My pockets feel empty but maybe I can buy a bottle of wine. It'll keep them away. The bugs.

Well aren't you just the queen bitch?

She's glaring at me with a forced smile on her face and I marvel at the way some people can sound like they're naming you their best friend while simultaneously looking like they would burn you at the stake given the opportunity.

She was sweet and genuine until I opened my mouth to introduce myself.

Then she became the Ice Queen.

Funny – I didn't know homophobia was a viable lifestyle choice in the fashion industry.

I get what I need and then I get out as quickly as humanly possible. As I walk from the meeting, trying to put as much distance between me and Little Miss Fake-Smile, I can't help but feel the weight of failure settle on my shoulders.

I hate disappointing others, but even more than that, I hate disappointing myself. I had a completely different idea as to how that meeting was going to go.

Now it's wet, I'm freezing and the reality is that my new media pledge to be environmentally friendly is coming back to bite me in the ass, because I now have to walk the twenty blocks to my apartment.

Maybe it's Karma.

I remember, with a slight jolt, the bum from earlier and resolve to drop him some cash if I pass him again and promise myself not to be too pessimistic about what he'll use it on.

But when I pass the spot where earlier I had tripped, the only thing there is a rapidly deepening puddle.

Feeling worse than I had felt in a long time, I trudge through the small lakes on the sidewalk, not really caring about what I'm wearing anymore.

There really is no point.

He's angry and He threatens me, but I've made enough on the streets for a hit and I know he'll give me my speed. I don't waste time. I move away from Him because I'm really scared of Him. I burn it on some foil and I chase the white dragon and I feel alright and the bugs go away and I'm still wet and dirty but I have my hit and I feel great and the bugs have gone away.

Two guys approach me, but I have my hit, so I don't care.

One guy bears down on me and he wants my hit but I don't give it to him and he gets angry. They both scream at me, but I just inhale and concentrate on my hit. One of the men kick me and sharp pain shoots through my ribs and tears sting in my eyes, but I'm numb from the hit so I don't fight back. I drop my lighter and foil and white dusts my dirty pants and now both mean are kicking me and I can taste blood and feel pain, but I'm numb and I can't stop them.

I lost track of time and the pain is constant so I'm not sure if the men are still kicking me or not. I hear a voice and it asks me if I'm okay and I grunt because I'm not but at least the bugs are gone. A new guy sits me up against a wall and the other two are gone. This guy is friendly and wants to help me. For now I allow him because he promises me money.

We drive a short way in his car and I lie on the backseat and I get sick over myself and his car but he's not angry. He takes me to his apartment and there's a lot of art on the walls - even in the bathroom. He makes sure I'm okay and allows me to shower and I'm grateful for the warmth.

The guy introduces himself as Dave and tells me I have a good body and I feel awkward so I put on the fresh clothes he's left out for me. He tells me he's an art teacher and he's looking for a nude model for the next few weeks. He says he'll pay me and that I can stay with him for the time so I agree because I need to pay Him and I'll need another hit soon and the winter is starting.

I spend the rest of the day watching Cartoon Network on the couch, eating and getting sick in a bucket.