Muffins

Muffins, as everyone called him, was a young sexy stud, who's drug of choice was air duster, of all things. Perhaps the quickest high, but also a high that did the most damage. He couldn't help being a moron, functioning on so few brain cells. He had little intellect, but still he was somehow appealing. Poor dumb sap wasn't ready for the real world, despite his recent graduation from recovery.

His goal for the future included serving an LDS mission, a goal that all those around him knew was impossible, given his total disregard for any and all authority figures.

Under all the abuse I am certain there was pain, deep pain that never surfaced, and therefore was never processed. I could identify with him. I felt his pain from across the room, and his desires. He held eye contact with me for entirely too long. He was intriguing. 

Poor Southern boy with no tact.