Killian snatches away the paper full of weed from Alex's hand before he can use them. "Give it back." Alex demands, glaring at Killian, hand stretched out in front of him. Killian rolls his eyes before throwing the weed into the bucket which someone used to puke in. God, doesn't he love attending parties? "Do you know how expensive that was?" Alex asks through gritted teeth, grabbing Killian by the collar, scaring the onlookers enough to give them space and scatter away from them. "That's what I'm saying. Where did you get the money from?" Killian asks calmly, uncurling Alex's fists from his collar. Alex scoffs, looking away. He lights up a cigarette before he answers Killian, " Just because I don't have a hotshot lawyer for a father doesn't mean I can't afford to buy some fucking weed." "Yes. That's exactly what that means." Killian argues, receiving a glare from Alex, "Where did you get the money from, Alex?" Killian tries again, this time with more authority, more care. Alex
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