The Beginning of the End

Max sat at his living room table in his second storey apartment building. He was 19, a shitty job shitty house and shitty car. His house was furnished with piece of shit furniture all found street side shopping, and garage sales. The only thing in his entire house that worth any thing was his Xbox 360 and his 38" TV. His fridge consisted of the basic food necessity kool aid and butter. His Cabinets were full of half ass clean dishes and bowls, partly eaten granola bars and a 24 pack of Ramon noodles.
Max application to had rejected because of his Criminal record for possession, diu and disorderly conduct. So for the past year he avoided all his family and anyone he had ever known besides two people, his best and only friend Trevor, and his druggy pal Paul. Trevor, the goody two shoes that he was, had recently been going to the local collage UND. Paul was god knows where, but on occasion he would stop by to smoke pot or play cod or halo with him.
This not so special morning he had decided to not go to work, he called in with by far his best "fuck my life I'm sick" voice with a simple "sorry Bill I'm not felling to good (fake vomits)... is it ok if i take a few personal days I'm going to the doctors today." His dumb ass boss said simply "3 days and you better be back with a clean plate of healthiness". Max hung up ad sent a text to Trevor and Paul --Hey i got a few days of wanna chill at my place =P--.