I am Jesse Pinkman

Chapter 4: Chapter 4: A NEW Jesse Pinkman



Chapter 4: A New Jesse Pinkman

The withdrawals weren't as bad as he expected. Maybe Jesse had never been that deep into meth—more of a casual user than an addict. The real struggle wasn't chemical; it was social.

Nobody in Jesse's world went clean.

By the second week, his phone buzzed non-stop. Badger wanted to hang out. Skinny Pete kept asking if he was okay. Even Combo hit him up, saying, "Yo, man, you sick or something? Ain't seen you in a minute."

He ignored most of them.

He spent his days in libraries, flipping through chemistry textbooks and research papers. His nights were spent cooking. He wasn't using Jesse's old methods—he was perfecting something new.

It took three failed batches before he cracked it.

A synthesis route that didn't rely on stolen cold medicine. A chemical structure that was beyond Heisenberg's blue.

The moment he saw the final product under the microscope, he knew.

This was the best meth the world had ever seen.

Three Weeks Later

The first deal was small. A test run.

He met up with a low-level dealer at a rundown gas station. The guy—Hector, maybe 19 years old—was skeptical at first.

"Man, I don't know," Hector muttered, examining the bag. "Shit looks too clean, you feel me?"

"That's the point," Jesse said.

Hector frowned, then pulled out a tiny pipe and took a hit right there. A long inhale. Then silence.

"Yo," he whispered. His hands shook. "What the fuck?"

Jesse just smiled. "Told you."

That night, his phone started ringing again. Hector's guys wanted more.

One Month Later

By the time Walter White was standing in his classroom, getting the news about his cancer diagnosis, Jesse was already running the best meth game in Albuquerque.

The blue meth never existed.

His product was better. Purer. Cleaner. It hit harder, lasted longer, and left no chemical signature tying it to over-the-counter ingredients.

And people were noticing.

Krazy-8's crew sniffed around, asking where the hell this new shit was coming from. Junkies were ditching their usual suppliers. Word spread fast.

Jesse stayed cautious. Small batches. No big moves yet. But he knew it was only a matter of time before someone came knocking.

And he was waiting for them.

Because this time, he was in control.


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