Brian is a rock musician who moved to Seattle about a year ago from a small town in the South. "I was straight-edge for a long time growing up, and there wasn't much down there," he says. "Just small-town potheads and some guys doing meth in a shack somewhere." His most intense drug experiences involved beer and marijuana.
Within months of moving, he was in a popular underground band. John, also in the band and one of Brian's roommates, brought a lot of drugs into their place—pot, pills, cocaine.
"One night, we're hanging out and—typical John—he brings out this white powder and asks me if I want some," Brian remembers. "He doesn't tell me what it is at all. We're freebasing—he pours the powder on some foil, gives me the straw, and lights it up. And I'm like, 'This is fucking awesome!' I just felt so good, so light, just so relaxed. And I ask him: 'What
is this?' 'Fentanyl.' 'Oh, what's that?' 'It's heroin.'"
Brian went on: "I was mad—like, 'Oh my god, I just did
heroin?!' It could be said that addiction runs in my family. Ever since I was a kid, I was told to be careful. I've got aunts and uncles in and out of rehab. And this feels so fucking good—I can really see this becoming a problem. It feels like total relaxation.
Finally. It feels like you've been at a spa the whole day. Instantly."
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