He dragged himself out of his bed to the sound of hammering on the front door. Pulling on a dirty pair of sweats, he ambled down the stairs at an agitatingly slow pace.
She was leant against the door frame, arms folded. Her foot tapped on the concrete like morse code, and she pursed her lips in distaste as she looked his bare chest up and down.
He smiled at her, and spread his arms out in a wide arc.
"Caitlyn. To what do I owe this pleasure?" he drawled. She looked around her, and then shoved him inside the house, closing the door behind herself.
"What the hell do you think I'm here for? Gimme what you got." He looked her over properly for a second, and could see that she wasn't in the mood for games today.
A thin film of sweat clung to her lip, and there was a sheen across her forehead. Her makeup hadn't been perfected yet, and Owen could see that her skin wasn't as healthy as she liked to make out.
He smiled; it was nice to know the beauty wasn't really that beautiful. He ran his hands through his unwashed hair, and sighed.
"Stop looking at me like that!" she screeched.
"There isn't much left..." he muttered quietly, and Caitlyn began to get restless. He padded up the stairs back toward his room, leaving her alone with her thoughts. By the time he returned, she was sat in a chair hugging her knees. She leapt up as she saw him enter.
"Have you got it?" the panic was clear to read on her sweaty face.
"Yeah. Look, I want paying today, Caitlyn, we can't keep going on like this." He grabbed her wrists as she scrabbled for the package in his pocket. Looking in her eyes he saw that she was vunerable without the things she wanted.
And he was stopping her from having what she wanted.
He took the white package out of his pocket and passed it to her wordlessly. She snatched it from him, her face returning at once to its smooth composure. The steely glint was back in her eyes, and her body seemed to relax.
"Don't go taking all that at once. I haven't got any to give you until you give me the money you owe." She smiled, the sweet innocent smile she to anyone unaware of her exploits.
"I know, I know. You'll have your money."
He was satisfied with this answer, although still a little dubious. But, he couldn't be bothered to chase her for the money, so it was all up to her. If she wanted more, she'd have to cough up.
She left the house, muttering a quick thank you, and leaving Owen alone once more. He wandered to the living room, switched on the television, and settled into a position he would no doubt be sat in for the rest of the day.
He didn't see much point in going to school now; he would only be bored. The teachers would only complain at him for his lack of effort, and his friends would only be asking him to hook them up with the good stuff.
That was the only thing he was ever good at. Hooking people up. And it was all people ever spoke to him for. He preferred it that way.
He didn't like the idea of needing someone, and had learnt from a young age that the only person he could rely on was himself. Yet there was something about having everyone relying on him, that made him feel alive.
And that was the whole point wasnt it, feeling alive?