The whistling of his voice fades to a pastime. To the begining. The sun shined through the window on a warm day that winter gave up. Words are only distant through the open doors of Shawn's friends, talking, laughing, stoned. There was a distinct moment where he wished his life was better, before drugs steered his mind away to another direction. Brian took a swing of vodka and hiccuped "So how bout that Melanie-girl, uh?" The men between the age ranges of seventeen to twenty years old. "She's a hot peice of ass. How old is she, man?" They all spoke loudly about the fifteen year old beauty down the street. "Damien" laughed Brian, while tearing away the envelope and reading the blue peice of paper. "It looks like you're next." All the guys began hooting and yelling and cheering him on. Damien was a tall, muscular eighteen year old. His blue eyes showed no expression but his mouth moved "Who is it, this time?" "Some girl named Emily. Royce is paying you a thousand grand to fuck this one." And all the men laughed until their minds passed out.