CHAPTER 13

There was a guy we once knew on the scene, appropriately named Dan-E by the crew for his notorious pill-popping habit. Life and soul. Proper party animal. Put any kind of drug in front of him and he'd sniff it, swallow it, smoke it, whatever. I'd never seen anyone consume so much in my life and not drop down dead, and that's coming from someone who never refused much herself either, but Dan-E was a different league of user and I'd always known it for what it was. Even without the rumours, I could always see it.

When people looked at Dan-E, he smiled - the biggest, broadest I'm-alright-Jack kinda smile you'd ever seen – but whenever people looked away, it was there, hiding behind the smile. A pressure that threatened to crush him. Like someone was pressing down a heavy weight on top of his shoulders.

Like ghosts were clinging to his back .

I saw it in him, because I saw it in me every day. Felt it. Felt them . Like we were part of some secret bloody club or s