Chapter Text
Jameson
The first time I smoked weed, I was in a college dorm. My roommate had some hidden away from the RA, and he rolled a blunt, and we shared it. It was better than I could ever imagine. I couldn’t feel my face. My body felt weightless. My throat had been dry, but I was more relaxed than I ever had been.
Before that, I had only ever indulged in alcohol. One time, after a game of Truth or Drink with Grayson, Nash, and Xander (Which we only played because they knew I could never turn down a dare), I had changed Xander’s and mine’s TikTok usernames to ‘Xander.Hawktuah’ and ‘Jameson_Hawktuah69’. I changed Avery’s to ‘aVeryDigBick.’ I also changed her contact name to ‘Perky Tits’, but that’s besides the point. I liked that. I liked getting that heavy feeling off my chest.
Soon, the weed wasn’t enough. I tried oxy. I got high, alright. But it wasn’t enough for me after a month or two of using it. I was hungry. I was always hungry for something. That’s what they always said, right? Jameson Winchester Hawthorne was reckless and hungry.
I started to go to parties hosted by some of the prep school elites in my final years of college. I started doing coke then. Just socially, nothing too serious.
I loved the feeling of cocaine. I loved the rush in the head it gave me, even if it was short-lasting.
Everyone in that circle did drugs. We all had an agreement that what happened in the house, didn’t leave the house. That’s how the word hasn’t gotten out about the boyfriend of the Hawthorne Heiress doing hard drugs. I didn’t hang around with them outside of parties. I had my own group of friends who didn’t know what I got up to at night. Neither did Avery.
Lying to her hurts. It hurts more than anything. She’s my whole world. Ninety-five percent of the time, before I put my finger to my nostril and my rolled-up dollar bill to the line of white powder, I thought of her. I thought of her face, her laugh, her smile, her wit. When I inhaled, her face was gone.
After I graduated, I continued, but in Texas. A few of my old prep school friends dealt, or knew people who dealt. I got my Coke and Oxy from a dude named Kaiden, who was an old friend of mine who went down the wrong direction. Last I heard, Kaiden’s running his deals full-time, and he’s cut off from his parents completely.
I use my own money to buy my drugs. When Avery got kidnapped a few years ago, I had promised Rohan all of my money to find her. I gave it to him, but luckily, my investments are keeping me more than afloat. That is— until I use all my money on cocaine.
Avery’s been having nightmares for the past two years since she was kidnapped. If anything, she should be the one doing drugs. But, unlike me, she has a sense of control. She only drinks occasionally when she goes out with her friends and only smokes weed every once in a while. Her strength is admirable— more than just that.
I keep what little Coke I have in a little bag, hidden in my nightstand drawer. Not in it— but underneath the dark, velvet layer at the very bottom. I keep only a little, then go out and buy some more at night. It’s hard to sneak out of the Hawthorne Mansion, but with the secret passages, it’s easier.
“Jameson?” Avery stirs awake next to me. She rests her head on my bicep, whispering under her breath.
“Yes, Heiress?” I whisper back, stroking her cheek with my thumb. I just woke up, and I already have the urge to retreat into my room and get a hit. I bite my cheek to suppress the urge.
“Do you know what’s for breakfast?” Her voice is mumbled and quiet.
“Green eggs and ham. I think.” I respond, pressing a kiss onto her hair. I can feel her smile a little against my arm.
“Not funny, I’m starving.” She grumbles. She finally opens her eyes, revealing the hazel irises I fell in love with five years ago. “Morning.” She leans in and kisses my lips. “I didn’t have a nightmare tonight.”
“That explains why you’re in a good mood,” I respond. “I’m glad that you’re happy. Come on, let’s get up. Gigi and Savannah are visiting and are coming later. And, you don’t have to lie to me. I know you’re not a big fan of Savannah, but you need to deal with it for Grayson’s sake.”
Avery scoffs. “I’m not not a big fan of Savannah. You’re putting words in my mouth. She’s family. And honestly, she’s kind of witty, and I like that.”
“Oh, I’ll put something in your mouth.” I joke. She snorts and slaps my chest. She sits up to straddle me. She’s only wearing a tank top and her underwear. I admire her, lying back with my forearm under my head.
“Jameson.”
“Yes?”
She leans in to whisper in my ear. “Be patient.” She says. I muffle a groan, grabbing the meat of her thigh. She chuckles, getting up from me and walking to the bathroom. I watch her as her hips sway back and forth, and the hem of her tank top lifts as she stretches her arms above her head.
This is why I want to marry her. It’s not just her looks and the way she looks at me. It’s the way she meets me at the same level. She always seems to know what I need, and I always seem to know what she needs. Our brains work at the same speed. I love her with all my being and all my soul.
I get up, groaning. Despite sleeping a whole night, I still feel tired.
I go to my own room, where I keep my baggies, and close the door and lock it behind me. My room has king king-sized bed with navy blue sheets and a comforter, as well as bookshelves and a bay window near the shelves. It’s not very slept in, as I sleep in Avery’s room every night. I really only spend time here when I’m doing one thing.
I open my nightstand and lift the bottom of it, revealing a small bag of white powder. I pour a little bit of the powder on the nightstand. I snort it straight off, sending me into instant euphoria. My head feels as though it is clear, and I immediately wake up. I sniff the remaining powder that’s on my upper lip and rub my face, slapping it. I laugh, covering my face with my hands.
At the breakfast table, Nash, Libby, their two daughters, Aza and Hannah, sit on one side of the dining table, while Xander, Maxine, Lyra, and Grayson sit on the other.
“Good morning, family!” I announce. Aza and Hannah look up at me and squeal.
“Uncle Jameson!” They say in unison. I gasp, putting a hand on my chest. The girls are almost three years old. They saw me last night, but for some reason, they’re excited to see me again.
“Wow, girls, I didn’t expect you all to be here,” I say, sarcastically. “What’s cooking? I’m starving.”
“Where’s Avery?” Lyra asks, frowning.
“Who knows? I’m ready to eat some pancakes!” I slide into my seat next to Grayson. He looks at me, perplexed as I stack a singular pancake on my plate. I pour a waterfall of maple syrup on top.
“I thought you were starving.” Xander waves a scone at me. “Blueberry scone?”
“No, no one wants your fucking scone, Xander.” I look at Aza and Hannah, whose jaws are dropped.
“Language, please, Jamie.” Nash rubs his forehead. “How many times do I have to tell you two?” He directs it to Xander and me. “I’m ashamed to say this, but please, look at Grayson. He doesn’t curse. He’s eloquent.”
“Ashamed? Why would you be ashamed?” Grayson says, offended. Nash ignores him.
“Aza and Hannah, cover your ears,” Nash orders them. Both the girls put their hands over their ears and start to sing, ‘la la la la.’ Nash clears his throat. “I don’t want a single one of you to say ‘fuck’ again in the presence of the girls.” He taps the girls’ shoulders to tell them to stop singing.
Maxine snaps in agreement. “I agree, motherfaxers. And guys— it starts to stick, so don’t even worry.”
“I think I’ll stay with my curse words,” Libby says, drinking from her glass of orange juice.