"Cole, stop this!" Raziel paced back and forth in front of Cole's desk in his home office. "It's crazy. Crazy! You'll kill yourself. You don't want to die." He stopped and turned to face Cole, who was intently cutting cocaine and setting it into neat lines. "You don't even know what you're doing! Couldn't you have at least asked Rob to show you how to use the stuff?"
But Cole couldn't hear him. Cole had never heard him. The alcohol, the cigarettes, and now cocaine. He growled and slammed his hands down on the polished surface of Cole's desk. "Daniel isn't worth this! Cole..." Cole rolled up a fifty dollar bill, took a swig from the whiskey bottle, and then set the edge of the rolled up bill to one of the lines of white powder. Raziel thought he would weep as he whispered, "Please, Cole."
Cole ran the bill up the line, inhaling sharply, and then sat back, sniffling, rubbing his nose with his fingers. Suddenly, Cole laughed, staring up at the ceiling, and flailed for the whiskey. He missed the bottle, and it fell, crashing onto the floor, the glass shattering, the booze spattering everywhere. Cole blinked and leaned forward, putting the rolled up bill against the next line... and the next... and the next. After a moment, he stood up, stumbled, and fell onto the rug over the hardwood floor. His laughter broke Raziel's heart.