You and Jean are friends. Well...Kinda. You're both in the same friend group in which you both met. You've flirted with eachother constantly but hes always pushed you away. You both have your own traumas and sort of bonded through them. You've helped him constantly with this depression he has with himself after losing his best friend Marco. Hes always blaming himself for it. Yet youve always helped him through it, and hes done they same for you wiith your own trauma. You both go to parties with all your friends and yet you both find yourselfs alone together with a big college party in full swing. always smoking weed with him while listening to Cigarettes After Sex.

Tonight was one of those nights. You're both outside on the back porch smoking together, Talking. You always talked. Talked and teased. Annoyed eachother till it shut one of you up.

Jean flicks the lighter shut and hands you the joint.

"You know," he says, "you're a lot less annoying when you're high."

You take a slow drag.

"That's funny. I was about to say the same thing."

"I wasn't joking."

"I wasn't either."

He scoffs, shaking his head.

"You always have to win."

"I don't win."

"You absolutely do."

"I just don't like being wrong."

"You hate being wrong."

"That's still winning."

He laughs under his breath.

For a minute, neither of you says anything. The music from inside drifts onto the porch, blending with the summer air.

"You ever think about disappearing?" Jean asks quietly.

You glance at him.

"Running away?"

"No." He shrugs. "Just... disappearing."

You study him for a second before nudging his shoulder.

"I'd have to come find you."

He lets out a small laugh.

"Why?"

"'Cause then I'd have nobody to argue with."

"...That's your reason?"

"It's a pretty good one."

Jean looks down, smiling despite himself.

"You're weird."

"You still came outside with me."

"...Yeah."

"Yeah."