A/N: I don't know why I'm doing this, these things normally irritate the crap out of me. But hey. The "songfic" chapter. There's also heterosexual lemon.

It was cold outside, so Jake's house seemed like a blast of warm air in all of the frigid, vital parts of my body. There was a decent crowd of people there, including, I noticed, Irvine. He'd brought a friend; I was amazed that Quistis would allow herself in a place like this. She seemed reserved around me, but she didn't blow my cover.
Did I ever mention that I cheated on Squall? Yeah, guess who it was with.
Jake loved this sort of thing; squeezing as many people as he could into his tiny apartment and getting us all high. December was welcomed as warmly as myself, especially when she opened her bag and removed what looked to be an ounce of primo chronic, red hairs and crystals all accounted for, and two eight-balls of coke.

Can't stop, addicted to the shin dig
Cop top, he says I'm gonna win big
Choose not a life of imitation
Distant cousin to the reservation

Music playing in the background, something with a beat that I could dance to, but not dancy music. Rock, I tried to remember the band's name and couldn't. I knew the words and sang along, boredly, while Jez divided the eight-ball into different parts. She handed me a straw and I took the hit, reveling in the rush of cocaine.

Defunct, the pistol that you pay for
This punk, the feeling that you stay for
In time, I want to be your best friend
Eastside love is living on the westend

December was near Jake, who had brought out Lionheart. She handed me the tube, and Jake lit the bowl of the hookah, all eight of the people (including Quistis, wow, isn't that something? I wonder if she's an Instructer again. That'd be a trip, running into your teacher at a party like this) toked up. Jez giggled, the coke starting to take affect.

Knocked out, but boy you better come to
Don't die, you know the truth is some do
Go write your message on the pavement
Burn so bright, I wonder what the wave meant

Ever smoked up while you were on coke? Probably not. I'll give you a little explanation. It's a rush and a downer all at once. You can feel all emotions at once, but you can't express it because you're fucking baked off of your ass. It's the best feeling in the world, and best of all, it lets you forget your little failures because when you're on coke, you're the almighty shit of the world, the best thing on the planet. It was like being the head of the DC again. I was in charge, and I knew it. Everyone else knew it, too.

White heat is screaming in the jungle
Complete the motion if you stumble
Go ask the dust for any answers
Come back strong with 50 belly dancers

I know that if Squall knew what I was doing, he was asking himself why I was doing this to myself. Or maybe he wasn't, maybe he was glad, I was doing him one favor and killing myself so he wouldn't have to do it himself. But I have an answer anyway. Why do I do this? Because it makes me fucking happy, that's why. Fuck health, fuck being able to think straight. This is what it's all about; this one little mood-altering thing that makes me so fucking happy that I want to puke. I own the world when I'm here, when I do this, and I don't have to worry about it because I can feel it, feel it sliding through my veins.

The world I love
The tears I drop
To be part of
The wave, can't stop
Ever wonder if it's all for you?
The world I love
The trains I hop
To be part of
The wave, can't stop
Come and tell me when it's time to...

I stand up, knowing that it's been a long time and that I should leave. I stumble to the door, falling a few times. Jez is hanging off of me, I push her off and make a run for it. I see her consoling herself with Jake; who cares? I think. Someone is running after me, and I feel the rush again, run, pumping legs, escaping. Somehow, I make it back to my motel and run up the stairs, fumbling with the key until the person who was chasing me catches up and takes the key from me. They unlock the door. It's Quistis.

Sweetheart is bleeding in the snowcone
So smart, she's leading me to ozone
Music, the great communicator
Use two sticks to make it in the nature

My room is dark, and she turns on the light and looks at me, her hands on her hips. I roll my eyes just like I used to. She asks me something--what am I doing here, why am I doing this to myself? I give her the finger and tear my shirt off, flopping on my bed and petting Jacks, because she wandered up onto the bed for attention. I look at the clock. It's almost four. It seems like the hours between arriving at Jake's house and leaving Jake's house sped by with no interval at all, and I'm dizzy. Quistis sits on my bed; she looks concerned but I ignore her, staring at the ceiling and trying to hear the voices that call to me.

I'll get you into penetration
The gender of a generation
The birth of every other nation
Worth your weight, the gold of meditation

Jacks mews piteously and jumps off the bed, annoyed at me. I look over; her water dish is empty. Sighing laborously, I stand up, fill the dish, put it where it was, and lay back down. Quistis watches this all with wide eyes, and I consider asking her what she's still doing here. Instead I tell her that I'm gonna go to sleep. She shakes her head, says I can't sleep, if I go to sleep I might not wake up, I did too much coke. I laugh at her, and I ask how she plans on keeping me awake? She sighs and crosses her arms; she's stoned, really baked, I know, because she's eyeing the sink. I get her a cup of water; really too nice for our dear instructor, but there it is. She drinks, and finishes it fast, and I get a look at her eyes. She is baked, baked like a cake, man. Bloodred eyes stare at me from behind narrow oval glass frames. I smirk and give Quisty a once-over; she doesn't seem to notice.

This chapter's gonna to be a close one
Smoke rings, I know you're gonna to blow one
All on a spaceship, persevering
Use my hands for everything but steering

Dear instructor Trepe has bloomed a lot since our orphanage days; tits out to here and hips to match, with an ass that, as the guys in the g-hetto say, doesn't quit. I know I haven't quite done too much coke as she says, cuz I'm getting hard, and you just don't get hard when you're too strung out. I smirk and flop back on my bed.

Can't stop the spirits when they need you
Mop tops are happy when they feed you
J. Butterfly is in the treetop
Birds that blow the meaning into bebop

Quistis is really stoned, I know it, she's laying down next to me. Every chick I know gets horny when they're stoned, and I'm figuring she's no exception. She's no Jez; Quisty's about as clean as a brand-new car. I look over; she's lying on her side and I can see a clear outline of her curves against the backdrop of my door and bathroom. I get up and shut off the lights. When I get back to the bed, Quistis wraps her arms around me. I snicker. She shuts me up with her mouth.

The world I love
The tears I drop
To be part of
The wave, can't stop
Ever wonder if it's all for you?
The world I love
The trains I hop
To be part of
The wave, can't stop
Come and tell me when it's time to...

Naked. We're fucking naked, man. How'd that happen? I look at the clock. It's five now, an hour's passed. Quistis moans and I look down. I'm fucking her, she's loving it, and so am I. I wonder how I got here, and then I push it aside and do what I'm best at, which right now is fucking Quistis Trepe harder than she's ever been fucked in her life. Limbs entangled in ways I didn't even think were possible. Then we're done, and we fall asleep.

Wait a minute, I'm passing out, win or lose
Just like you
Far more shocking than anything I ever knew
How about you?
Ten more reasons why I need somebody new
Just like you
Far more shocking than anything I ever knew
Right on cue

I wake up briefly when I sense someone moving next to me. Quistis. I sit bolt upright in bed, but I'm pushed back down and I hear her leaving. I look at the clock. Seven. I go back to sleep.

Can't stop addicted to the shin dig
Cop top, he says I'm gonna win big
Choose not a life of imitation
Distant cousin to the reservation

I dream all kinds of things. Naked Quistis, naked Squall. Jez, Jezebel, lovely fucking Jezebel, cozying up to Jake, who's clothed and smoking a one-hitter.

Defunct, the pistol that you pay for
This punk, the feeling that you stay for
In time, I want to be your best friend
Eastside love is living on the westend

My gun. I can't find it. It's under the bed, and I know it is, but I can't see it and I don't know what to do, until December, fully clothed, walks in and tells me that I don't need it, I never did, I can take care of it without the gun. She smiles and gives me seven hundred dollars and then leaves again, and I start to cry.

Knock out, but boy you better come to
Don't die, you know the truth is some do
Go write, your message on the pavement
Burn, so bright I wonder what the wave meant

Ugh.
I wake up suddenly, and glance at the clock. It's four PM. I shower quickly and get dressed, then jog down to the office before they close at five to pay for two months rent. I'm bored, the cat is fed, so I walk down to the dock on the other side of town. I've already crashed and burned at this time, and I really should feel exhausted, but instead I feel more awake than I ever have in my life. I slip my hands into my pockets and feel something paper nestling up against my hand. I frown and pull it out. It's a note. From Quistis.

Kick start the golden generator
Sweet talk, but don't intimidate her
Can't stop the gods from engineering
Feel no need for any interfering

Seifer;
Irvine says you go by Rage, but I think you're still Seifer Almasy underneath it all. Seifer, we're all here, all of us, on an undercover mission. Your friends are going to get busted, Seifer. I'd hate to see you caught up with them. You need to get out; this isn't Instructor Trepe talking to you. This is Quistis, a concerned childhood friend. We have an informant in your group, and she's pegged you as a heavy user. I don't care what you have to do, please, leave Dollet and find somewhere else to ruin your life, away from the police.
Quistis

Your image in the dictionary
This life is more than ordinary
Can I get two maybe even three of these
Come from space, to teach you of the pliades

I laugh. She's left a phone number. I feel a bittersweet taste in the back of my throat, remembering last night. I'd been so careful up until last night; I hadn't had any random encounters like that for almost an entire year. Forcing myself into celebacy wasn't exactly fun, but I'd managed because I figured that if I was gonna die, it wasn't gonna be from some weird ass STD. And what do I go and do? I have a one-night stand with Quistis fucking Trepe, who only wanted to help me.

Can't stop the spirits when they need you
This life is more than just a read-through

I glance at the note, memorizing everything about it, from the elegant cursive curls to the phone number at the very bottom, and then I toss it into the water and watch it float away. Fuck salvation. Dollet is my home now. I'm not leaving.

A/N: This is a weird chapter, I know. I apologize, but most of it will make sense eventually.
The song is "Can't Stop" by the Red Hot Chili Peppers. I didn't make it.