Ezra had always been a light sleeper, and no matter how exhausted he was, the sound of shuffling sheets was enough to keep him up all night. The dosage of Xanax Gregg had given him was about as useful as a screen-door on a submarine. Every time, just as he thought he was about to drift into unconsciousness, the soft, curling tendrils of sopor simply withdrew, leaving him in the uncomfortable limbo between sleeplessness and slumber. Once or twice, Ezra had half a mind to get up and give his roommate a good talking-to, but then he hesitated. This place was bad enough as it is, was it really worth it to make himself more enemies than he’d already done?

Minutes ticked by as he weighed out the pros and cons in his mind. In the end, however, Ezra decided it wasn’t worth it. He was no stranger to sleepless nights, after a year spent in Remmington’s, and he already had enough trouble on his hands, as it was. Maybe with a few more favours, he could get Gregg to transfer him to a single room, but for now, all he could do was suck it up and try to sleep.

Seconds turned into minutes, and minutes turned into hours. Soon, the buzzing fluorescent lights of the room flickered on - [i]7 a.m.[/i] Ezra did get a few winks of sleep here and there, but not nearly enough for him to be fully awake during the day. Propping himself up on his elbows, he turned to look at his roommate. Still asleep. No surprise there, though he had to admit, it was pretty impressive how the boy managed to be insensate every time he saw him. When his gaze flickered downwards, Ezra noticed the cup of pills sitting on the nightstand. While he had resisted taking them at first, he learnt over time that it was either this, or an injection.

With a hard swallow, he downed the medicine, setting the little plastic cup back down on the nightstand. Now, he needed to get himself some breakfast. But first, a smoke was in order. It would be awhile until the nurses came back to check on them, and Gregg’s influence was more than enough to have them look the other way if they [i]did[/i] catch him in the act.

In one swift, practiced motion, Ezra had a lit cigarette hanging from his lips, the plastic lighter quickly disappearing back beneath his pillow. For a long moment, he just sat there, clouds of smoke spilling from the corners of his mouth, his free hand laid across his stomach.

“Hey, kid.” Ezra began, almost involuntarily. His voice was soft, though it still seemed to carry across the room, bouncing off the stark, white walls. Truth be told, he wasn’t quite sure what he’d hoped to achieve with this, but he pressed on. “You awake?”