A click and fizzing sound, a brief flicker of light illuminated the room momentarily then faded abruptly. Orange-red embers glowed and dimmed. Silence. An anguished rush of air, smoke clouded the room, accompanied by a hacking cough.

Abruptly, the door flung open and the florescent light flickered on lazily, heedless of the urgency of its summoner. A man stormed in the gradually brightening room and stared at the rumpled figure slouched against the back wall. The figure, a young male, brought the seething cigarette to his lips and inhaled again, the embers brightening before dying once more.

�Vince,� the newcomer hissed. The other man, Vince, did nothing to acknowledge the presence, just released his breath in wisps of smoke. �Look at me damn it,� he ground out through gritted teeth.

Still, Vince didn�t respond.

The other man, a tall black man with cheek length dreadlocks, had an expression dueling between concern, anger, disgust, and frustration for his friend. He stood before the beaten man whom he hardly recognized; he reached down and snatched the cigarette from Vince�s fingers, throwing it to the ground and smothering it under his boot. That was what finally made Vince look up.

�What do you want, Chris?� he looked up through hooded, sunken in eyes.

�What happened to you?� Chris softened considerably at his friend�s hallowed face.

�You know,� Vince wheezed.

�Why, man? You got through the worst of it, you were clean for two fucking months, why did you go back?�

�You were the only one who thought I would make it.� A coughing fit. �You always thought too much of me.�

Tears came unbidden to Chris� eyes. �Come on, man, you can prove them wrong, I know you can.�

�You�re the only one,� Vince reiterated.

�Your parents think you can. Your sister, that cousin you were like brothers with.� Chris was grasping at any straws he could think of. �And me. You�ve been my fucking brother for the last twelve years, doesn�t that matter? Don�t you want to feel again?�

�Feel what?� the ashen man spat. �My--my girlfriend telling me she aborted my baby and left me for some other loser?�

�This is about that crack whore?�

�I was getting my li-life tog-gether for us,� he wheezed. �Make some honest woman of her, ya know? Like in the movies.� He paused and his face contorted in agony before he started sobbing. �I hate it when I�m clean �cause everything hurts. When I�m high I don�t feel it, I�m invincible.�

�What about now?� Chris practically yelled. �You don�t look fucking invincible, you look like hell, you look like you�re in a shit load of pain.�

�I am,� Vince whispered, barely auditable. �It�s taking more and more and it�s not lasting. I feel so disgusting when it wears off.�

Chris collapsed to the floor beside Vince and pulled the shell of a man into his arms and tried to sooth the limp form, more for his own benefit than Vince�s. �Please go back Vince,� he sobbed into the grease-ridden hair. �Everything will be different when you come out this time. You�ll move to Seattle with me, hang out with my friends, people who won�t be doing that shit. They�re all artists and writers and dreamers; you�ll fit right in. We�ll get you back you guitar and some canvas; you�ll be able to do what you love again. Come on Vince, it�ll be good again. We�ll make it good, it�ll be like high school again, before those psychos got you hooked.�

�That�s a nice dream man, but it won�t happen.�

�You have to try, damn it!� Chris sobbed. �You have to try and make it real. I�ll be with you the whole time, so will your family.� Vince made a noise that sounded like something close to a scoff mixed with a cough. �Don�t write us off, Vince. We love you; your family wants to be there for you. I�ve got it all worked out: two plane tickets to Seattle, you�re booked at a in-patient rehab place near my house so I can come see you a lot, your dad�s taking a new job s--so he and your mom are moving out there so they can help you too. Your sister promised to fly out as often as possible and call everyday. Your cousin�s going to do the same. We�ve got it all worked out. . . The only thing missing is you.�

�You really do have one hell of a plan,� Vince chuckled, though he didn�t believe it.

After a silence where Vince didn�t answer one way or another, Chris spoke again. �You can come with me optionally, on your own feet, or I can call the police. I�ll tell �em you�re using and they�ll bust you for possession. Jail�d be a hell of a lot worse, man. Come on, please.�

There was another considering, Chris hoped, silence that was fractured with another coughing fit. �Lets go,� Vince finally whispered and Chris let out a breath he didn�t know he�d been holding. He pulled the other man into a bear hug, which was weakly returned, before hulling him up and helping him down to the street to the car waiting for them, another old friend behind the wheel.

�It�ll be great man,� Chris assured him as he helped Vince into the car. �Another chance and everything�ll be great.�