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𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚊𝚕𝚕
All the cards of the deck spread out on the green table for your hungry eyes. The heavy scent of smoke and pride filling up your lungs. You roll the dice, the jostle of ecstatic cabaret brushing past you in gusts of wind. Her blank face with a plastered smile, her tight skirt bouncing as she flipped around your pick of the deck. Every vibrant trace of life smudged off of the people you once claimed to be on your side. Your breaths growing rushed as she faced you with that smug look you claimed you'd wipe off. The eager smile that stretched your lips dulled as her, as their, as your enemies laugh rained through, crashing the place with her pride. You bite your lip, the faceless props clinging to her. All the attention they gave you, fading, leaving your head to brace for gunshot impact, already piecing together how they'd remove your existence from this place all together. The jostle of the evening, pulsing through your head on a loop as she smacked wet kisses on the faceless girl, marking her territory, leaving the dopamine that sped through your body in overdrive to clench through your body at the intensity of all the bad things that happened in your life. Your debt takes hits at you allowing your blood to clot. The rush speeding to a velocity break, the kisses gaining intimacy, her hands shifting to places as you coughed. An abrupt sound indifferent to them. Indifferent plastered on your sweaty, pasty forehead. Your heart managing one last vibrant pump before it could fulfil its duty at the black market. Your body collapses, your flesh rots as you ponder the choices that flood through your head until nothing. Like the point of this life we live. Guns kill fast, yet the mess is still intact. With poison, oh boy would the mess be in your hands.
His death would be a bitter tale to spit out for those who bothered to love him. There was one person who bothered to and that person was watching him from above at that very moment. The moment he would take out a spoon from his pocket. Watch as he pulled out the heroin, eyes blank. Watch as he licked his lips raw, his head tilting as he laced it with a cheap sedative. A sedative strong enough to knock him out for more then a day. Watch as he pushed the needle into his thigh, blood pushing up against the pouring narcotic. Watch as he tilted his head back with a hoarse groan. Watch as the numbness spread through his body, blood on white sheets. Slowly sinking its claws into his muscles until his eyes shut.
Dying of an overdose was always a pathetic option for him, yet at that moment. That moment where he stood, heaving, pasty forehead. All eyes on the winner. Gold on her neck as she stood in his place. As she bowed, basking in her glory, Quentin had never felt an urge stronger.
Slits for eyes. Teeth clenched in a smile as he shook her hand. His mind racing with vulgar images. He let out a remark of praise on account of his trainer. His hands clung against his skin, daring to pick at it. He ached to feel that seething release of blood. He ached to feel anything but the way he felt then. Even if it meant taking his life.
