ʏᴀɴɴɪ | ᴏ.ꜱʜᴏᴛᴀʀᴏ

-A World Without A Loved One-

January 7th, 2026
12:26 AM
Detroit, Michigan

You lay frozen next to the now panting young man in a hotel bed, not once sparing the man a glance as the well-known feeling of disgust started to settle inside of you.

"My wallet's on the dresser..." He huffed. "Fuck, take what you need outta there..."

Wasting no time, you shuffled out of the bed, slipped back into your jeans, and snatched the man's wallet off the oak dresser in front of the bed, cleaning the man of nearly all his money before staggering into the bathroom.

You turned a knob for the shower to mask the sound of you digging into your jeans pockets for the pill bottle you stashed away alongside a loose gift card.

You took a seat on the toilet and took your time crushing down three white pills into a powder, shaping them into three medium-sized lines before leaning down towards them.

The sound of running water from the shower also masked you snorting up the three lines of powder and groaning from the familiar burning sensation in your right nostril.

Before long, the high you'd been waiting for kicked in, and after a few minutes of allowing the high to overload the rest of your senses, you moved to shut the shower off.

Without bidding goodbye to the man, you lugged yourself out of his room and, soon enough, the hotel.

Though now under the influence, you managed to stalk your way back home, walking past the nightclub you used to battle at – Bangerz.

However, you didn't seem to notice a notably familiar blonde craning his head to peer out of the screen doors to the club. He had stood up and ran out onto the sidewalk and shouted for you, but you never looked back; you just kept walking.

Really, you didn't seem to notice anything; your mind was too cloudy, and you overall couldn't bring yourself to give a fuck.

You couldn't even pinpoint the last time you thought about a lot of shit; it was like your brain was on autopilot all the time.

Well, at least since New Year's Eve. The events of that night just would not leave your head no matter how hard you willed it to.

So, eventually, you stopped trying. You had better things to worry about anyway...

For example, you were already thinking about when your plug was gonna drop off your next high at your windowsill when you got home.

Normally, she was on time with her drop-offs. Being that you always paid the night before, she had regularly agreed to drop your packages off at the windowsill the following evening,

Which was convenient for you because you usually headed out to work around the scheduled time of arrival.

When you opened the front door to your apartment, the first thing you noticed was your mother, laid out on the couch with a needle in her arm, the TV acting as white noise.

Her head was slowly swaying from side to side, and you could tell from the jump that she was nodding off from her favorite choice of drug: Heroin.

You rolled your eyes and headed down the hall to your room, the faint scent of marijuana wafting to your nose the closer you got to your bedroom door.