Jessica always went to bed at ten and fell asleep instantly, and her alarm woke her up the next day at six in the morning. It was a functional, boring routine that left her neither exhausted nor under-stimulated. The rare moments of excitement were kept to a minimum so she could focus on her primary goal in life: getting ahead at work. At least, she thought that was her primary goal in life.

She brushed her teeth, cleaned herself up, and got ready for the day. Her clothing was boring and bland. Unremarkable. Just like her. She tied up her hair, applied some light makeup, and sprayed herself with a tiny bit of floral perfume. Maybe the last step was a bit pointless because she was about to have her morning smoke, too. She stepped in front of the mirror to perform the finishing touches.

"Hm," Jessica said as she looked herself over. "Not bad."

Her outfit was classic and conservative, absolutely plain compared to the clothes most other women her age wore on a daily basis. But Jessica didn't care about that kind of stuff. She grabbed her purse, her lunch box, and her phone. She always placed the items in a neat line on her dresser so as to facilitate an easy, efficient morning with no muss and no fuss. As always, everything was right where she left it, right where it belonged.

The day was ordinary. Nothing worth commenting on. She approved a few credit card applications, shrugged off the help of a coworker who offered to bring some extra office supplies to her desk, ate her meager salad and sandwich, declined proper medical treatment for a small cut, and rejected an offer to take an early vacation. After having a bite to eat, she lost track of time and forgot to smoke her after-lunch cigarette, but it didn’t really matter. The day was boring, and she kept having to tell herself it could be worse. She could be homeless. She could have a serious mental illness. She could be dirt poor. She could be dead.

After her long, boring, pointless day of work, Jessica clocked out and went home with the expectation that the rest of her night would be even longer and more boring. It was a Friday night, and she definitely didn't want to hang out with any of her coworkers. She didn't like anyone at the bank enough to make an effort to maintain a friendship. That would be too much work. She didn't have the time or energy. She had business books to read and a sick grandmother who needed to be taken care of. She could always hang out with her friends from high school, but that would be weird since she never talked to them anymore. And she didn't know if any of them would even remember her anymore. If they didn't remember her, what was the point?

On the way home, she stopped at the grocery store to pick up some beer and cigarettes. On her way in, she bumped into a homeless man. It was her fault because she wasn't watching where she was going.

"I'm so sorry," she told the skinny older man. He had long dark hair, and his face was covered in scruff. He had a playful smile on his face.
"No, no, I'm sorry," he laughed. "I was thinking about something."

Jessica was polite to everyone she met. She loved making a good impression on people. Maybe she was just a people-pleaser. Maybe she did it out of rational self-interest. Maybe she was driven by a need to control the behavior of others. Whatever the reason, she never wanted anyone to have a bad opinion of her. She wanted everyone to like her, even people she didn't like.

"Let me make it up to you," she said, digging some cash out of her purse. "This should be enough to take yourself out for a nice dinner."
"You're generous," he said, laughing as she handed him the crumpled bills. "Thank you. What's your name, sweetie?"

"Jessica," she said holding out her hand. "Pleased to meet you."
"My name's Flake," the homeless man replied, giving Jessica's hand a hearty shake. "The pleasure is all mine. Where are you off to in such a hurry?"

"Just stopping by the store to grab some smokes."
Flake smiled.
"You want to smoke with me? I've got some really good stuff here. You're gonna love it."

Although the man's offer was strange and something about him gave her the creeps, she decided not to be afraid and took Flake up on his kind invitation. Flake passed Jessica a strange hand-rolled cigarette and lit it for her. Although the taste was somewhat chemical and horrible, the effects were quite interesting. He was right. She did enjoy it. It instantly calmed her nerves and cleared away the fog of stress that clouded her thoughts.

"What's in this?" she asked.
"It's called Nuke. It's better than tobacco, right?"

"Yeah," she said, feeling dizzy and happy. "I love it. Nuke. I like that name."
"This stuff's been around for a while, but it's kind of hard to get your hands on. You have to know the right people."

Jessica nodded, satisfied that she'd heard everything she needed to hear.

"I'm glad I ran into you. Thanks, Flake. I've got to go..."
"Alright, see you around, cutie. Walk safe now. Lotta creeps out there."

The two parted ways. Flake slid a grimy baseball cap on his head and sauntered off somewhere, while Jessica continued to the grocery store in a state of blissful confusion. It was a quick encounter that felt like it lasted for hours, but only seconds had actually elapsed. She found herself standing alone outside the store with her thoughts muddled, confused, and jumbled together. Her brain was on fire. The feelings of comfort, calmness, clarity, warmth, happiness... they crashed over her like a tidal wave. She had to take a step back or risk being swept under.

Jessica bought a coffee and sat down at a table to try and cool off. She felt incredible. She felt... excited. She could see things, colors, auras, floating around everyone she looked at. The store burned with a myriad of swirling patterns, shifting and changing. It was all so fascinating. For the first time since she was back in high school, she felt genuinely alive.