I blink a few times to pull back the emotions, and then I take another hit and hand the smoke back to her.

Don't be a little bitch. Don't be a little bitch. Don't be a little bitch. I give myself a pep talk.

"What's the weather like in Italy right now?" I ask.

"Oh, we're gonna play like that? Cool. Take a swig and I'll answer. Tit for tat. I'll just get you drunk and make you confess."

My lips twitch at the blunt sarcasm in her voice. I do as she says, and she does too. One for one. I guess she's really on a mission to get drunk with me. Tequila fixes everything.

Natalie doesn't answer my lame question, and I'm grateful. She just hangs with me until we smoke the rest of the joint and have a few more sips each. We listen to mostly old school New York hip hop as we chill and watch the sky further darken. My best friend knows something's wrong and just sits with me, offering her silent support. Even though I don't talk for a good hour, I know she's got to be buzzed by now. I'm drunk and high, and she matched me and caught up, yet she seems normal.

"Whatta Man" plays through the speaker phone next and it makes me think of James. I listen to the lyrics and find myself smiling, the euphoria of this moment hitting me. My heart feels warm and tingly. I got myself a good guy and I'm stupidly risking his love. Every bone in my body says give him what he wants because that's what he'd do for me.

"This must be my old man's theme song, judging by the corny as fuck look on your face." Natalie jokes.

I turn my head to look at her. Oh, yeah, I was right on the money. Her eyes are glossy, and her pupils are basically all I see. She's definitely as fucked up as I am, which only makes me bark out a laugh.

"I was just thinking it was actually." I pause and release an annoyed sigh. "Whatta fucking man is right."

She doesn't flinch. Natalie just studies me with a softness to her. She's waiting, and if I know her, she'll wait all night for me to talk. She may even move her trip back if I don't start flapping my lips soon.

I swallow then quietly break it down for her.

"When you said I look like someone died, it's how I feel." My tears climb just thinking about opening up to her, but I need to. The tightness in my chest can only stretch so tight until I explode. I need to talk to get it out, and soon.

My heart races so fast at the thought of telling her the truth. I sit up and lean over, placing my elbows on my knees and stare at the ground. My fingers are tingling like they're numb. I shake my hands out and stand, suddenly feeling really hot. I pace the balcony in my bare feet and look ahead at the twinkling office lights, they make the concrete jungle feel optimistic.