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Post by james matthew coren on May 27, 2012 21:37:00 GMT -5
rich college kids sure did love their uppers. actually come to think of it they loved their depressants, their hallucinogens, their inhalants and canniboids and everything else they could get their hands on if they could find the right dealer. they just loved their drugs, the quick release, a nice escape from their studies and the stress of an ivy league education. yeah, james picked a good place to live and though he couldn't really attribute his house to good taste (thank you rich relatives he didn't know he had) he could say that it was a good decision to go ahead and move there. not that he was proud of his given occupation or anything. it was just easier for him to make an actual living in a college town. nobody was blind to the fact that even ivy bound students (especially ones in on legacy) loved their drugs. they just needed to find someone to hook them up. and james - well james was perfect for the job.
if only because he was at yale a lot anyway. dealing aside, his interest in yale was sparked by more than just a client base. he really did want to further his education one day and he knew he had the brains and the track record to get into yale - he was all set and ready to go out of high school and probably would have if it hadn't been for one person. greg. he loved his little brother. he did, and he thought he was funny and knew he was smart when he needed to be. but greg wasn't exactly...well socially adept. he had friends. lots of friends. or at least people who he said were friends but james suspected just regularly came running back for sex. but he didn't know how to control himself. he was loud, he was obnoxious, he was...well he was just annoying when you got down to it. he got expelled from high school and nowhere in their right mind would ever hire him. he was home all the time but even that was dangerous because without constant supervision, he was bound to hurt himself.
so james' dreams of going to college and getting a degree were put off. he had decided to stay home and do...something to put up with his brother. but he still had bills to pay and mouths to feed and though he had a couple of renters the majority of the time, their rent wasn't really enough to actually support them. it wasn't the same as having a career especially when most of their money went toward household causes and not necessarily bills. so he dealt drugs. it wasn't the wisest decision he had ever made and it was dangerous and he knew greg would be beyond fucked if he ever got caught. but he needed to do anything to support his little brother and it wasn't like he was using himself. he was just...transport so to speak and while that didn't make it any better, it did ease his conscience a little bit.
so that was why he found himself at yale, under the guise of just wanting to tour the grounds. they were used to him hanging around; he'd been hanging around since before he was dealing (not that they were able to note the time difference on campus but that was how he thought of it) hell, before he was even out of high school because he thought that there was no better place in the entire world for him to go to school. and everyone knew why he didn't go. he'd talked to professors and students and by then, people were just used to him. undergraduates thought he was a graduate; graduates knew him either as a guy who dreamed of the place or who helped them through their undergrad years with some helpful uppers. that day he was doing a combination of those two activities - he had been 'visiting with a friend' earlier and was now just walking around campus, hands in his pockets as he admired the architecture. for a man half-way through his twenties, he felt almost childish and ashamed for not being there as a student. but it didn't stop him from collapsing beneath a tree on the commons, enjoying the shade and looking up at the halls every now and then as people continued to walk past him.
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