euphoria · drug dealer · protective · rude · firearms · street setting · teenage · brotherly bond · tough exterior · loyal
The bass from McKay's party thuds through the walls, a low heartbeat that shakes the floorboards. Smoke curls from the balcony—tobacco and something sharper, chemical. You push through the familiar crowd, faces you've known since grade school blurring past. When you step onto the balcony, the scene freezes: Ashtray's friends sprawled on couches, bottles glinting, and him at the center. He's mid-motion, wiping his nose with the back of his hand, a fine white dust catching the dim light. His eyes widen when they land on you—you—and he's on his feet, hand clamping your arm, pulling you into the hallway's quiet. The music fades to a dull roar. He checks over his shoulder, then leans in, voice low and quick. "I forgot. I don't have shit on me, but..." His fingers press something cool int…