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At exactly 2:47 am, one Violet gets rudely woken up by her phone buzzing under her pillow.
She grumbles, grabbing her phone with her face still shoved in the soft pillow before she throws it across the room, the phone clacking and flipping on the ground.
The vibrating stops. Hell yeah, peace and quiet.
"Finally, god." she slumps down. She almost falls asleep, with the dim light illuminating the room through her closed window.
Unfortunately for her, luck was never on her side. Especially with the quiet sound of a lock clicking open.
Violet doesn't notice, of course. A voice calls her.
As expected, the sleeping person doesn't respond.
The intruder is a girl who looks like the average psychotic K-Pop fan.
Suddenly, the phone rings again. The intruder picks it up, Violet still knowing peace in her mind.
Oh well! Too bad that changes tonight.
The girl picks up the phone, before chucking it across the room, making a particularly loud thunk! when it lands directly on her head, damaging her skull.
"Ow, what the hell—?”
"Yeah, I tried calling you, so that was technically your fault."
The asshole girl stands by her doorway, holding a mysterious brown bag coated in mysterious white powder.
Violet lifts her head from the pillow, hand fumbling around for her phone. She gets flashed by her screen and the glaring 2:56 at the top of her screen.
She groans. "You couldn't wait until after the sun rises?"
The intruder snorts, like she's somehow convinced that breaking into a house is a completely normal thing everyone does.
"Psh, no, why would I do that?" She plops down onto the edge, shoes on the bed because she knows it would irritate the other. "Besides, it's for a project."
Violet sits up, watching as the other starts to spiral into a yap session continuously for the next few seconds and gesturing with her hands, the bag in her lap.
“Also, do you even know how long those take? They could take over a week. A week! That's literally so crazy, and for a school project of all thi—”
“Dude, please shut up. What are you even holding?"
Violet grabs the mystery pack from her lap, ignoring the startled ‘Hey!’ from the yapfest next to her. She wipes the dust off the paper, seeing the very clear but flashy warning on it.
VERY HARDCORE DRUGS!!! DO NOT USE AS SUBSTITUTE FOR SALT AND PEPPER >:(
..Of course. Of course it's cocaine. Why wouldn't it be? Of course it is.
Violet gets more and more tired and irritated the longer she looks at the bag. She turns her gaze towards QiQi, who flicks at her tights stained with the white substance.
“Aw, man.. my only pair is ruined! Forever! I'm gonna have to burn it..” QiQi pouts.
“Only pair? Don't you have— ..nevermind. I thought you were staying sober?”
"It's not breaking my streak if I'm the one selling it, pooks. 'Sides, it ended up at my table anyway. Finders keepers."
Violet sighs, leaning against the concrete wall as she tries to cover a torn hole on the measly-taped up package.
"..This thing has a hole. It's spilling on my bed. QiQi, this might leave a stain. QiQi.”
"Yeah, uh-huh. So! I was thinking.. we—"
"We?—" Violet questions, getting up and moving around her room for tape, a stray bowl or anything.
"Yes, we,” QiQi gestures to the both of them. “—could sell it. Y'know, for that project about charity. Or something." QiQi says, waving her hand around like it'll mean something.
“What, that charity project where you raise money for the school?”
"Yeah, it's due in, like, two—three?—weeks." She said, kicking her feet on the bedframe.
Violet finally settles on a plate with leftover bread crumbs. She looks at her hands before wiping it on her pajamas. "Um.. Okay... what do you want me to do?"
"I need a very specific spoon of yours that won't burn my delicate digits off." QiQi states with faux-innocence, putting her hands on her knees.
Violet blinked, stopping for a second before turning to her. "Are you kidding me? You couldn't wait until after class? It's Wednesday!"
"And Wednesday is the perfect time to cook crack! It's great for me, the economy, and those in need! Trust me."
QiQi grinned at her, draping the blanket over the other as she dragged Violet to the kitchen.
"What. No, no YOU BI—"
🧂🥄
The time reads 2:56 am when the whole kitchen smells of burnt crack. There's spilled powder on the counter, QiQi beside her as she uses the kitchen lighter to heat up the metal spoon.
The spoon they're using apparently being the "perfect" one because it doesn't char—it does, the heat on the metal burns and her fingers were literally burning before they decided to use tongs—and QiQi sucks ass at burning meth, if the multiple discarded clumps of burnt crack have anything to say about it.
"Hey, maybe there is something wrong. We've been at it for ten minutes now." Violet says, holding onto the spoon using gloves because tongs make the spoon unstable.
"..Nnnah, I'm pretty sure we got all the right ingredients. Spoon, lighter, ziplock bags and good ol' cocaine."
QiQi says, burning the drug, and the spoon.
"Still not sure why it isn't working though, and we've gone through a chunk of the bag already."
After a few more failed attempts, they give up.
The kitchen smells even more like coke, white dust scattered on every surface of the area.
"This isn't working. We're missing something." Violet says laying on the tiled floor of the kitchen.
QiQi, with some of the cocaine smudged under her nose, hummed. "Do you think we should watch a YouTube tutorial, or something? Breaking Bad?"
"Breaking Bad? That stuffs made from scratch. I think. And harder to make. And more advanced. With tools that we can't spend even with Star's money. And it was also blue." Violet said, twirling the slightly charred spoon in her hands.
"Hm.. yeah, you're right."
There's a sudden knock at the door.
"What the hell, who is— I'm coming! shut up, Yao." Violet stands up, getting irritated at the incessant knocking on the door.
She opens it to find a familiar figure in their pajamas.
"Ghosty, what are you doing here? It's Wednesday."
"It's Thursday. Wednesday was a few hours ago."
"Huh? ..Nevermind. You didn't answer my question."
Violet leaned against the doorframe, using the door to hide what was behind her.
“I know it's here. Because she stole it when I left it at her desk.”
“It's not stolen if you put it there!” QiQi comments from inside.
Violet shifts against the doorframe, using the door to cover up what was inside.
“I was asking you to hold it for a few minutes, not take it from me and use it for yourself, you greedy—”
“Oh-kay, I'm sorry, but you need to go.” Violet cuts them off, jabbing a finger on their chest.
A stray plate falls from the kitchen counter and shatters on the kitchen tile, shattering on impact.
Violet flinches, looking behind her. “QiQi
Ghosty takes this temporarily distracted Violet as a chance to move inside the coke-ridden apartment.
"Ew, it smells like failed hopes and dreams in here, what did you.."
Their gaze lands on the kitchen the moment they accidentally step on QiQi's hair.
"What the hell? What did you do?"
They turn to Violet, who checks outside the door in case anyone is watching. She closes and locks it. "I didn't do anything, she broke into my home."
"Apartment," QiQi adds. "Really shitty one, by the way. You should move out and live with me.”
"..No."
“Aw, but I could treat you so much better!”
Ghosty looks around the apartment, noticing the fully open bag surrounded by failed, charred and hardened plastic baggies of disappointment.
Ghosty conjures a plastic bag (stolen, appeared out of thin air, who knows?) and stashes the remaining powdered substance.
"QiQi did you use a video game as a tutorial to cook crack.”
The girl in question sputters, sitting up. "Psh— what? No, no, I would nev— okay yes I would. But I looked up other stuff!”
Violet turns around. “On a public browser? Dude, we could get arrested for this!”
“I'll tell them it's for—I dunno—research for writing!”
"Research? " Violet asks, her tone getting more tired by the moment. Ghosty shuts the door behind them as they leave.
Then she remembers another thing.
Violet lives alone.
She needs money.
And QiQi needs to sell for her charity project.
..Program. Thing. Whatever it is.
Ghosty feels a hand harshly grab them by the back of the collar of their shirt, dragging them back inside the apartment.
They stumble, landing on their ass. "Ow, what—"
"You said you know how to cook?" Violet asks.
"I never said that—”
"Okay, well, now I'm asking you. Can you do it?”
“..Um.”
"Good enough. QiQi! Get back here.”
"Ev'rythin' feels fuckin' weird, man.. we can't do this tomorrow?” QiQi turns her head at Violet, who looks like she's on a mission.
"No time, we need to cook.” And I'm gonna be evicted and rent is expensive.
Ghosty sits on the kitchen counter, swinging their legs back and forth. "Was that Breaking Bad?"
QiQi flips her black hair out of her face, blue highlights shimmering in the dim, flickering light.
“..Uh. Maybe. BUT that's not important! If we cook now we can sell tomorrow and hope to whatever higher being there is that the Student Council won't notice!”
Thursday, 12:27am (Lunch Break)
Star heads out of the SCA conference room, papers of legal documents in her arms and her hair being brushed by gentle winds in the halls.
On her way to the Dean’s office, she sees a faint white dust on a plant. It looks familiar, but she can't put a name on what it is.
She brushes it off and continues moving. lunch break is almost over, after all, and she can't afford to be late.