"Hey everyone," I start out, they all say hello back. I've been through this before. "My name is Miles," it's not. My name is Andre. Miles is my brother but I feel like he should be the drug addict in their minds. "I'm an addict. But you all could probably guess that since you're here too. We're all a bunch of fucking addicts."

Faces in the room turn sour. It's not surprising. They're here because they want to make a change. Get better. Cure their illness or whatever. I'm here because I got caught. I don't want to change. One guy turns beat red and looks like he's ready to pop. I'm going to guess he likes steroids judging by the size of him. He's trying to stare daggers through me but I can't really be bothered by him.

"Well, Miles, why don't you tell us what you're addicted to," the group leader starts.

"I'm addicted to pain killers. I mean, they say I'm addicted to pain killers but I really am in pain. I fell off a roof a few years ago and got impaled by a metal pipe. Part of it is still in my back. I feel it every day," another lie, I'm just trying to get out of here quick. Lying, it's what addicts do.

"Oh, I'm in pain too," a young woman says laughing at me.

"Me too, I got lumbago," an older man says.

The group starts to laugh with me. For a moment I feel like I've made them realize how silly all of this is. Then it hits me. They aren't laughing with me. They're laughing at me.

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