He wanted her to see him. To see him for what he really was.
He could feel her eyes drilling holes into his back, as he looked forward – listening, and trying to pretend nothing was wrong.
His thoughts strayed back to that night. That fateful night. It had almost been a year. A year since the tragedy. a year since he had stated...using. Using. It sounded so vague, but that was the way he liked it. That way no-one would know. He felt so angry. How dare these people judge him? They didn't even know him. She knew him. She knew him probably better than he knew himself. He had to do this...for her. It was the only way she would respect him. He had to get it out. It was eating him alive. It was only a matter of time before it killed him.
But he was scared.
Scared of what people would say. What they would think.
"Go on" she urged him, coming to sit beside him. She took his hand, and gave him a small smile.
"I can't" he said, tears welling in his eyes.
"It's ok, I'm here" she whispered, giving a quick kiss on the cheek.
He took his courage in both hands, and stood up.
"Yes?" said the man sitting at the front.
"I would like to speak"
"Go ahead. You have the floor" said the man, inviting him up.
He took a few steps towards the front, and faced his audience.
"My name is John Carter, and I am a drug addict". Suddenly, a smile erupted on Carter's face. He had finally unleashed his secret.