Behind every puff of smoke and every sip of coffee, there’s a world drenched in deception, masked behind casual conversation. It’s in these moments, where the heat of the cigarette mirrors the burning inside, that truth gets twisted, and gossip becomes gospel. News becomes an excuse—whether it’s real or made up—for someone to be the hero in their own story, burying their insecurities under layers of lies.
There’s a subtle ritual in passing the sugar or lighting another cigarette. It’s not just about the bitterness of the brew or the lingering smoke; it’s about stoking a fire of bitterness inside. The walls turn yellow with the residue of secrets, falsehoods, and perverse satisfaction. The coffee may warm, but the cigarette burns—and that burn fuels the need to speak ill, to tear down what is better, more whole.
“Pass me a cigarette,” they say, like a battle cry in their war against those they envy. It’s not the caffeine they crave but the rush of relevance. To be seen, to be heard, even if it’s through the venom of gossip. They disguise their loneliness, their jealousy, their inner emptiness, with fake smiles and half-truths, tearing down others to distract from their own brokenness.
They gather in circles, feeding off each other’s dissatisfaction, adding to the toxic brew of rumors and lies. It’s easier to stir the pot, to throw a spoonful of scorn into someone else’s life, than to confront the real issue—their own unhappiness. And the cigarette? That’s just the flame they use to burn through the reputations of those around them, creating ashes from the lives they envy.
But in the quiet moments between the drags, they know the truth. They know they are the cancer, the very poison they pretend to rail against. Yet, they can’t stop. They can’t give it up. If the coffee dries up, if the cigarettes run out, then the spotlight shifts, and suddenly, it’s their dark secrets that come to light.
So they keep going, riding the wave of fake news and gossip as long as they can, hoping the smoke will keep them hidden, hoping no one sees the hollow person behind the façade. But eventually, all fires burn out, and the ashes they leave behind are all that remain—a sad testament to the relationships they’ve ruined, and the truth they were too scared to face.
