* 𝒄𝒍𝒐𝒔𝒆𝒅 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒆𝒓 ╱ 𝘧𝘵. 𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘢𝘴
well, shit. it hasn’t even been twenty-four hours since they arrived and the cartridge he’s been smoking from is already more than half empty. no one else to blame but himself and his own carelessness in packing for this trip, neglecting to double-check that he’d actually thrown in a couple extras. sitting on the edge of his bed, he’s trying not to panic, opting to remain level-headed as he thinks of some possible solutions when a light bulb goes off in his head — matías navarro. not just the only person here he actually considers a friend, but also someone he knows for a fact he can count on. he pulls out his phone to check the roster attached to the email they were sent, carefully jotting his friend’s assigned room number. the last thing he wants is to knock on the wrong door and be forced into a conversation with a stranger, following it up with an awkward apology. he makes his way down the hall, paying close attention to the numbers on the doors before coming to a stop in front of room four. with his fist, he knocks once and patiently waits for his friend. “hey, man.” he greets the other with a sheepish grin as the door swings open. “you got any extra cartridges on you? it’s alright if you don’t but i only brought one, and uh ...” he reaches into his front pocket to retrieve his weed pen, holding it up for the other to see and a soft chuckle escapes him, “yeah, don’t tell me. i know i’m a fuckin’ idiot.”
