Sharp blue eyes cut through the darkness of a teenage boy’s room. A sliver of light beamed from a crack in the poorly covered apartment window, only barely hiding the outside world thanks to a worn blanket that had seen more years than it probably should’ve. It was meeting his gaze halfway as if it were waiting to spar from the moment he awoke. It was unrelenting, as it is every day - a harsh contrast to the shadows the boy preferred. These shadows gave comfort where none could be found, especially in the city he no longer felt safe in. 

A loud bang disrupted his return to consciousness, the faint sound of a chain being dragged across wood following immediately after. He pushed his light brown hair back, the slight curls in his face as they were every morning. Completely unfazed, he made a simple remark as he stretched, arching his back with a small pop ringing in his ear.

“Get the second lock too, dumbass.” 

“I already did. You just can’t hear like usual,” a voice echoes back in retort. “Maybe if you didn’t sleep all day you’d be capable of basic human functions, eh?”

Annoying. That’s the word Jackson would use to describe his best friend Taiquin; although he considered them family, there were times where he could ram their head through the drywall. Were it not an apartment, he’d have already done so, but the last thing he needed was to break even more in a place that was practically in ruins as is. 

Jackson stumbled through the one hallway he had, brushing past pictures of former family and friends; the frames were a bit crooked, but he never felt the need to adjust them. In a way, it made his home a bit cozier. “I’m pretty sure I didn’t hear it because you realized how goddamn loud you were being and decided to ease up on abusing my fuckin’ door.” 

“Nah. When have I ever given a shit about your belongings?” 

“Quite a few times, actually. Should I make a list?” 

“Hell yeah, go for it! You’ll be racking your brain for days.” Taiquin let out a snort, their hands digging through a tattered and torn backpack they’ve had for years, sitting just on the edge of a grey couch that was arguably the dullest shade anyone could ever see. It barely felt comfortable, but it was far better than the floor. 

Taiquin had short, grey hair. Their skin was like soft honey, smooth and vibrant even in the dark of the apartment. Their brown eyes gazed in Jackson’s direction, an amused grin now forming as if to taunt him.

“Anyways… I figured I’d bring you some stuff. Take a look.” 

This wasn’t the first time they’d bring items for Jackson; it had become a weekly ritual some years ago. Although the routine never changed, the various things that were brought did. Some for better - others for worse. Every item came with two pairs; one for Taiquin, the other for Jackson. It was their way of both sharing and feeling included in their own gifts, despite the fact that they already shared everything as is. They knew their friend better than anyone else - he was stubborn, and most definitely to a fault. Jackson wouldn’t accept anything from them unless he could reciprocate, and unfortunately, most of the time he couldn’t. This was the one way that Taiquin managed to get him to accept anything despite that, and thankfully, it stuck. 

The first item that was retrieved from the backpack wasn’t in a pair, however, but simply a bag filled with their favorite past-time: Stardust. Jackson’s eyes narrowed a bit, gazing initially at the package before looking back up towards Taiquin. It had been some time since he last saw the swirl of blue and purple, and now that it was back, a pit could be felt forming at the bottom of his stomach. 

The two used to regularly inhale the powder, allowing the grains to paint the inside of their mouths and throats until it looked as though they had just swallowed a galaxy. The saliva that would form afterward became bubbly and glow as if radioactive - perhaps it was. The last time they used, Jackson had a bit too much and had collapsed, becoming unresponsive. As it turned out, having too much Stardust would cause the bubbles that formed from their saliva to harden, a lesson Jackson would learn a little late as he began to suffocate on some that lodged in his throat. Taiquin would have enough sense to dig their fingers into Jackson’s mouth and pull out the hardened chunks, crushing them once they all congregated to the center of their palm. After catching his breath and coming down from what was now an uncomfortable high, the two mutually decided it was best to quit before a similar mistake happens again. 

Once the city began to enforce a curfew, finding a dealer who could properly handle something so dangerous to make was difficult, anyway; most wouldn’t sell, and the few that did would tend to give some sort of alternative substance as a way to save face should the police attempt a search. It was almost not worth the time or effort, and the fact that Taiquin found what appeared to be the first legitimate batch in months left Jackson as impressed as he was concerned. Was it worth the risk to come back to something so potent? 

Within seconds, Jackson had made up his mind. “You really are a bad influence on me… But damn, I’ve missed this shit.” 

“I know. Now grab a straw.” 

The two would both dig into the bag, grabbing one straw each - Fresh ones. This was abnormal, as Jackson remembers simply reusing the same one many times in his past; it was far too convenient to use the same utensil than getting a new one, even if there was a chance for contamination. In his past, he would use multiple times a week, from several different dealers and straws that he figured were clean enough. The risk never really bothered him either, as the high was an experience he considered worth dying for.

A price to pay for addiction, but one he did not regret accepting. 

Taiquin was rather different in comparison. Even when using regularly, they would always change straws, and despite Stardust being easier to obtain in the past, they never indulged more than once every few weeks. Responsible use was their motto, while Jackson’s was treating the bad as good, since he felt there was far worse that could happen. 

Perhaps he was right. 

Grabbing the bag, the two carefully lifted each of the lower corners and upturned it, letting the material spill onto the table below haphazardly. The particles that floated in the air for a while longer imitated the birth of a galaxy, fragments clashing together with small flashes of light before spiraling down into the mass below, sinking into the various shades of blue and violet. From there, the two would press one end of their straws into the dust, and with their lips now pressed against the other end they pulled air in. 

As if transporting space itself through the straw, the clash of colors shot up and into their waiting mouths, coating the inner cheeks and tongue with the substance. Some would find itself floating into their throats, and shortly after the effect would bring them back to a visual that hadn’t been seen in months. The room around them began to twist and warp, shaping itself into a cosmic outline of what the two could still remember. Everything would disperse, the furniture almost morphing into miniature galaxies on their own; dust and vibrant colors would burst out from the seams, sending a wave of warmth over them. As soon as the color touched their skin, time slowed to a halt, the only movement registering to their minds being their own. 

For a few minutes, this effect would hold strong, bringing Jackson back to a time when he was in permanent ecstasy from the drug. Along with it, however, came the urges. Once more, he found himself going back to the back… Only this time, an arm extended to push him back. 

“Nah, no more. You know what you’re like, Jackson.” Taiquin’s eyes would meet with their best friend’s, narrowing in disapproval. Despite bringing Stardust for the two to enjoy, their intention was for one trip - not more. Too much and the two could overdose, and they refused to let such an experience happen again. 

Now leaned back in his chair, Jackson folded his arms as a whisper left his lips. 

“I want to get out of here, Taiquin.” 

“I know.” 

“Then why don’t we?” His legs were now planted firmly into the ragged carpet, voice raising just slightly. A sense of urgency latched onto his tone, showing a bit of impatience and fear. “What’s keeping us from leaving? I’m tired, Tai. I’m so tired of waking up to the same shit outside, every day. Ma’s not around anymore to keep me afloat, and the only person who even visits me is you.” A loud slam echoed into the house; hands now pressed firmly against the table, a bit of the Stardust spilling out from the bag still loosely standing. Taiquin flinched, eyes squeezing shut for a moment before opening back to look at their friend now in distress. 

“God damn it Tai, let’s go! Let’s get the fuck out of here. Before they get to my apartment and we end up in some deep, deep shit. Think about it, is there anything worth staying for?” 

He wasn’t wrong - they had nothing left to lose, and with the violence escalating every day it was only a matter of time until they had to face it themselves. Despite that, Toivoa was the only city they had known; going beyond it to the world outside didn’t necessarily guarantee a better life, and there were so many uncertainties that terrified them. However… The risk was far greater in the city than out at this point. Their lives were uncertain here - but outside? It couldn’t be any worse. 

Before they could reply, a loud bang erupted from the door to the apartment. Several heavy knocks, frantic and aggressive… Something unusual, even for their neighborhood. Jackson stood up properly, patting his hands together to brush off some of the Stardust that got on his palms before stepping towards his door hesitantly. Undoing both locks, he opened it just a sliver-

“You need to get out of here, now.” 

A disheveled man whose clothes looked as if they hadn’t been washed in months stood before him. Dirt coated below his eyes and around his collarbone, a dark tone to his skin that made him look older than he probably was. His voice was hoarse but full of nervous energy, and as he continued, the reason why would become apparent. 

“The police just raided the apartment down the block,” the man whispered, gasping as if to catch his breath between words. “They’re coming here next - if you don’t get out of here with the rest of us, you’re fucked. Please, get what you need and then leave.” With that, he turned and ran off, rushing through the door leading to the nearest staircase. Closing his own door slowly, Jackson froze, color draining from his face as the realization set in.

It was now or never. Either they left now and took their chances or stayed put, and given the bag of Stardust sitting on the living room table, the latter option did not bode well for either of them. Taiquin’s eyes were already wide, having heard what was said clear as day. While Jackson stood frozen from his worst fears coming true, his best friend was already packing their backpack up once more and clearing off any residue that remained on the table. 

“Jackson... Jackson! Snap out of it, come on!” 

“R… Right, yeah. Sorry.” finally coming out of his shock, he rushed down the hall and into his room. Getting his own bag together, he shouted back out to the living room. “Five minutes tops, and we’re out the door! Make sure you have everything!” 

There wasn’t much to pack; a few sets of clothes, his worn pocket knife, and a dingy flashlight he had kept for whenever the power in the apartment went out. Putting his arms through the straps and hoisting the backpack up, Jackson stepped back into the living room, where Taiquin’s eyes immediately looked up and locked with his. 

Though not the way he envisioned it, they were finally about to leave their shithole of a city. The only thing left to hope for was a better place than what they’ve endured the last few years. 

That, and to hope they make it out alive.