Roxy leaned back against the brick facade of the student center, there was a nice little cove, shielded from the wind and the rain spitting from the silver grey sky, and it allowed her to smoke between lunch and her last lecture of the day, without getting completely soaked and cold. One day she would quit, but today was not that day. She huddled down more, tip of her cigarette glowing orange with the glow of a deep inhale. Some days, the bad ones, it seemed like her myriad of vices where the only good things she really had. Of course, vices weren’t virtues and they were temporary relief, she knew they were. They never lasted, you were always chasing the next vice, the next fix. She chuckled, flicking the ash from the end of her cigarette. “Guess that’s why they called Opium ‘chasing the dragon’. You’re never gonna catch him.” She looked at the death stick in her fingers, and sighed a blow of smoke from her mouth and nose. “You’re not as good as opium, buddy.” Not that she’d know, and of course, lucky her, she’d left her flask back at her dorm room. What a shitty day. She looked up at the guy who ducked into the little dead end alleyway too, muss of dark curls on his head, bit familiar. Maybe they had a lecture together? “You caught without an umbrella too?” She asked, just for the sake of conversation.