<span style="color: #FF80FF"> <span style="font-weight: bold"><span style="font-size: 150%; line-height: 116%;"><div style="text-align: center;">Lea Stevens</div></span></span> </span><br/><div style="text-align: center;"><a class="postlink" href="http://i300.photobucket.com/albums/nn24/SociallyToxicBeauty/036e0d3a-b28c-47ec-b858-0eaea6c67e4d.jpg">[ img ]</a></div><br/><span style="font-weight: bold"><span style="font-size: 150%; line-height: 116%;"><span style="color: #FF80FF"><div style="text-align: center;">"Jazz"</div></span></span></span><br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">"You are dealing? Don't tell me that you are into that business, Lea...it may kill you, like it killed my brother. How could you get dragged into such a mess, Lea?" </span>Carlos put his face into his hands, clearly upset by Lea's news. She picked at a loose string on the couch, her eyes cast down.<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF80FF">"It's not dealing. I am just a middle man. They paid me a lot of money and I just...kept doing it. I don't know, Carlos. It was easy and I figured I knew enough to stay safe. I hadn't exactly counted on anyone coming in and flushing everything. I mean, a whole gallon ziplock bag full of pills, Carlos! Did you think I was going to take all those by myself?" </span>she asked as she started to get agitated. She didn't mean to get caught up in that sort of thing, it just happened. She knew it was stupid, knew it when she had accepted the job, but it was easy money that she didn't have to take clothes off for.<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF80FF">"It just seemed like a good way to make money, okay? I just...I don't want every penny I make to be because I used my body. Believe it or not, it doesn't make me feel good to strip or perform sexual favors for cash. I know that being a middle man isn't much better, but fuck--at least I don't get groped..."</span>Lea's mood were still swinging and she kept going back and forth between sounding as if she felt terrible and sounding as if she were angry. Mentally she was grasping at any emotion to just hold onto and stick with, but it was clear she couldn't keep her composure very well.<span style="color: #FF80FF">"It's not my fault!" </span>she exclaimed bitterly,<span style="color: #FF80FF">"You're the one who threw out the pills! How was I supposed to know that you would just pop back up into my life and take charge?! How is that my fault?" </span><br/><br/><span style="color: #FF80FF">"No, no. I'm sorry. Fuck. It's my fault. I knew it was stupid, I just...it was easy money. That's all. Just some easy money."</span>