Being bored out of our minds and with absolutely nothing productive to cling to, we crossed another line. Curiosity mixed with recklessness is a dangerous cocktail, and we drank it in one gulp.
So we decided to try some Glass.
We wanted to understand the appeal—the obsession—the way the tweakers on the street would treat a single hit like it was the Holy Grail. They’d claw at one another, scream, threaten, kill if someone so much as touched their stash. I’m not exaggerating. I’d seen that kind of desperation with my own two eyes.
And somewhere in our drug-softened logic, we thought:
Well… why do they love it so damn much?
What’s the big secret?
It was the kind of question only two bored, chemically adventurous idiots could ask with a straight face.
“Shall we?” I asked, my voice trem
