for leo, one of the more interesting things about having been using drugs since he was thirteen years old is the wide array of responses people seem to have towards someone like himself. there are those who deem it the height of cool; some treat it a bit like a strange illness, trying very hard to act as if they don’t even know it’s there; still others, usually people he’s close to, only acknowledge it when they think it’s “getting bad again”; and then there are people like jessie, people who look down on him for it, and these, of course, are leo’s favorites. it’s almost uncomfortably honest, and there’s a part of him that is irresistibly drawn to that. honesty, he thinks, is probably the rarest thing in the world. maybe that’s why he pushes his way through the crowd to get to him when he sees jessie at a bar not far from campus, a little buzzed off a bump he’d taken ten minutes ago and maybe hoping just a little bit to start something. “jessie, my man,” he says by way of greeting, and lifts a hand to flag down a bartender. “exactly the person i wanted to see, lemme guess your drink.” and, turning to a woman who’d shown up behind the bar, “whatever’s on draft for me and, er...scotch whisky for this guy.” he pauses, contemplating him, and adds, “neat. no, wait--on the rocks, yeah?” ( @jessiehqs )