"Shitty things don't have to be different for them to be shitty." Richie grabbed his other drink and slung a healthy gulp back without even thinking about it. This one burned enough for him to cough. He let it out and then swallowed some smoke because fuck lungs. Who needed them?

"That would be real bullshit, wouldn't it? To have to have something novel each time you wanna be upset? 'Sorry your dad died, Greg, but your mom died like two weeks ago so you should really just suck it up.'" He took another drag and blew it up toward the sky.

"Still fucking sucks."