Look, Marcus, I know you’re, like…sick or whatever, but you can’t just freak out in the middle of a Starbucks without warning. It’s embarrassing and like…I mean don’t you take meds for that shit? If you’re not even gonna try then I don’t wanna enable you. That’s like…not healthy for either of us.
Marcus keeps his eyes squeezed shut as he tries to drown out the memories of his alleged friends in Boston scrambling to keep their distance. Once hisversion of the story had gone viral on campus, there’d been no room for Marcus’ take. Marcus had found himself alone with a damaged goodslabel slapped across his chest.
Marcus drags himself dejectedly from the bus, making his way into the elevator of his apartment building. He narrows his eyes as he pushes his floor’s button. He really hopes that either Jackson is awake (not likely, since it’s not even eight in the morning yet), or his threat to deadbolt the apartment was an empty one.