The soft whoosh alerted me that the glass door opened out to the balcony. I heard a soft footstep fall on the concrete top before the door shut behind my visitor. Someone walked up beside me and leaned against the railing of the balcony. I lifted the cigarette to my lips, took a deep drag and finally exhaled the smoke. I didn't have to look to see who was standing beside me.

"What are you doing out here?" Jasmine asked. Her emerald eyes fell on the white papered cigarette between my fingers. "And why are you smoking? I thought you quit."

"Didn't work out." I replied shortly, finally turning to face one of my oldest friends. The cigarette touched my lips and the end lit up as I inhaled. Ah. Sweet, sweet nicotine. Poison my lungs once more, you divine demon.

Jasmine didn't look happy, and I knew why. She never did approve of smoking. She thought the habit thoroughly disgusting. I couldn't completely discredit that... but sometimes things became too much. It was either smoke a cig, or become a homicidal maniac.

And I never did find peace with spending life in jail. I don't listen to authority well.

"So when did you start up again?"

"Right after I quit."

"..." Jasmine kept her eyes locked on me. I could feel her green eyes jabbing daggers into me. Normally such a look as that would make me feel guilty. As it stood, I was too distressed to feel helpless. Taking the final hit of the cigarette, I tossed it over the balcony railing and let it fall to the city's sidewalk below.

"I'm in love with one of my best friends; said friend wants nothing to do with me; I'm in debt up to my eyeballs; my car's shit; everyone I work with can't get over their own personal melodrama and, on top of all that, I have two newlywed neighbors who hump more than rabbits. The least I can do to myself is smoke a cigarette." I wasn't angry with her; just frustrated with my entire situation. The venting seemed to only aggravate my nerves instead of calm them. I was shaking as I removed another cigarette from the pack and struggled to light it. I calmed down a little when the tobacco once again settled in. It took several minutes, but I finally sighed. Lowering my eyes in shame, I apologized. "Sorry, Jaz."

A feeble smile swept across her lips. "Don't worry about it." She shook her head. She watched me smoking for a while; curiosity painting her face. "Does it help?" She asked finally. Her question shocked me. I stared at her openly and barely registered when I replied.

"Yeah. A little. ...why?"" In response, Jasmine only smiled softly and shrugged. Reaching out her hand, she took the lit cigarette from me. Raising it to her lips, she took a deep drag.

Too deep. She came up sputtering. Instinctively, I reached for the cig before she dropped it. With my free hand, I gently rubbed her back. Laughter echoed through the balcony while Jasmine coughed and flapped her hands in front of her mouth to disintegrate the smoke. When she finally felt stable, she was aghast.

"How can you stand those things?" She demanded; more out of shock than anger. I chuckled softly and shrugged.

"I guess you get used to 'em." I took another drag of the salvaged Camel light and leaned against the railing; my back facing the night sky Cigarette finding a permanent place between my lips, my brown eyes glanced sideways towards Jasmine. She still looked thoroughly disgusted by the cigarette. A smile tugged at the edge of my lips. It meant enough for me to see her try and understand me-- even if that meant she tried something she despised, or helplessly had to listen to me rant.

"Thanks a lot, Jaz." I smiled at her. She pulled herself out of her thoughts and looked at me in confusion.

"For what?"

I smiled again. "For just being here." That statement seemed to brighten her up. Her face lit up like a happy puppy.

"You're welcome." She chirped; happy she'd succeeded in making me happy; even if she didn't know why.

Dedication: This story is dedicated, with affection, to one of my oldest, long-standing friends.