Lyric knocked like a fool, forgetting he also lived here. So, he opened the door and walked in, and he was right. The house smelled of m*******a and meth, dirty dishes scattered around, with laundry here and there, and he sighed; well, his friends hadn’t left him before, but after seeing the sorry state he lived in, they sure would now.
When they walked into the living room, Claire let out a yelp of surprise as she slammed her eyes shut. “Naked lady on the couch!” she yelled. “I repeat, naked lady on the couch.”
His mother sat up, groaning as she grabbed a shirt and sipped into it, staring at him in confusion. “Who are they, Lyric?” she hissed, her voice hoarse.
“We’re his friends,” Claire said, peaking at her through an open eye. “Lady, you f**k your boyfriend while rining your son. D
