Fun facts: None of this belongs to me.
The title? It's from a song. Guess what one.
Please note: I've never toked in my life. Ha.
The smoke drifts out of his lips, encircling his head. Like a wreath, he thinks and laughs quietly to himself, thinking the reference clever. Fingers, the tips stained a permanent yellow and the nails dirty, broken, grip the joint tighter. He's afraid to let go.
"Pass it this way, man."
He shakes his head and takes another drag. The smoke is sweet, the flavours dance on his tongue as he holds it in. When he lets it out, his lungs burn and he's left feeling lightheaded for one amazing, wonderful moment before everything comes crashing down again.
Another drag.
"C'mon."
A soft laugh bubbles up and escapes out into the night. He feels giddy. "C'mon," he replies, tone far off, his eyes betraying a mind that is a million miles away. "C'mon," he giggles, rocking back momentarily.
The eyes across from him narrow, the threat reduced by the red encasing the blue. Suddenly, a pale hand is in front of his face, long fingers snatching the drug out of his hand. "Stupid shit," he growls, taking a drag and sitting back as the weed does its work.
The giggle dies on his lips, leaving him staring at the other young man with big, serious eyes. "You ever think about the stars?"
An eyebrow raises in response.
"Yeah," he begins nervously, feeling lost without the special cigarette in his hand. "Yeah… like all up there an' stuff… you ever think abou them just…" He waves his hand a bit, as if to illustrate a point. "Falling? Y'know… falling?"
A smirk twists the lips.
He hangs his head. "S'just… what happens when the stars fall?" He looks up at the sky, leaning back too far and almost toppling over. "Do… do you think the other stars notice?" None of it is what he really wants to talk about, but if it will make the other listen then so be it.
"You're gettin' a little deep for me, kid." The tone, despite the smirk, is concern and amusement. The joint is passed back his way, and he takes a grateful drag before flicking it into the darkness.
A sigh, smoke billows out of his nose and mouth. "Do you… when I die… when I'm gone…" A shakey breath. "D'you think anyone's gonna notice?"
Silence.
He frowns, fingers tapping on his thigh before he lights a cigarette. Normal this time.
"I dunno, kid. D'you want people to remember you?"
A shrug in the dark. "I guess."
The conversation ends there, leaving a million questions unasked. Instead of asking, he thinks to himself, digging his nails into the dirt. At last, there's a rustling across from him.
He pats the ground beside him, not caring if his hands get dirty. The cigarette hangs from between his lips, ashes falling on his jeans. Moments later, he feels the smaller body lean against him. He wraps an arm around the thin shoulders, pulling the boy in close.
Feeling the breaths, even and deep.
Just to make sure.