I love Steve. He’s been my best friend for as long as I can remember. Hell, he’s like a brother to me. But the guy has a serious addiction problem.

When we were kids, it was internet porn. He could not get enough of the stuff. When I’d spend the night, he’d grab his laptop, whip it out, and go to town. I’d pretend to be asleep cuz, honestly? That’s just an awkward conversation that I didn’t want to have. His parents caught him on more than one occasion and sent him to therapy, so that was the end of that.

By the time we were in our late teens, he was super into utilizing Caps and H. He was the life of the party, always banging chics. By his early twenties, he’d fallen in with some pretty dodgy people, and that’s when he began to make deliveries.

Around his 25th birthday, he was raking in the dough.

When I’d visit, he’d show me the product stashed in his panel van in his garage. That stuff wasn’t for me, I’d explain. Eventually, he took the hint.

It was hard watching what the addiction did to him. He couldn’t seem to follow the mantra, never sample your own product. There were obvious signs. The marks and infections on his arms. Bad product, he’d claimed. It just got away from him. Then there was the sweating, chills, and anxiety when he’d run out after finishing his deliveries. I felt for him. It was hard to watch my friend fall apart like that.

A couple weeks ago, he sent me a text, pleading for me to come to his place. He’s my best friend, so of course I went.

“The police are onto me,” he said, eyes darting wildly as he shivered in his chair at the kitchen table.

“Calm down,” I said.

“You have to do something for me. I know they’re coming in the morning. You have to take my van and make sure the product reaches the buyers. I’m gonna need that money for my lawyers.”

I didn’t want to. I really didn’t want to, but he was my best friend.

As I got into the van, I could hear crying and whimpering. I glanced through the mesh at the girls in the back; their sobbing was unnerving. I wished they would shut up.

The drive was short and the compensation was more than adequate.

Steve was arrested, but I didn’t bring him the money.

My friend has a serious addiction problem, and I think a little jail time might do him some good. I imagine the withdrawal will be hell though.