This will take place a bit before meeting striker via the actual episodes and will continue on past the episode that was already passed. Therefore everything that happens after said chapter/episode pasts will be complete non "cannon". There may be f...
Hours had gone by while you slept, sweat dripping from your forehead as you tossed and turned finding yourself restless yet again. The air had a cold chill, slowly your eyes fluttered open to see a dark room, the couch no longer full of laughter but instead bare. Your head pounding knowing you are past due for your meds, sitting up letting the pain engulf you as you turn to get up hobbling to get to your meds on the counter. The once cold water is now warm, the condensation leaving a puddle on the counter, popping open your pill bottle to take two of your pain meds. Slowly blinking at the sight of your phone, it lights up with a few messages displayed. Sighing you grab your phone opening the messages, scanning over them before stopping at Strikers contact. A lump forms in your throat and time seems to come to a halt, 'I'm on my way darlin'.' Shaking as your eyes dart around the room, only two thoughts cross your mind, where is he and is he safe? Not assuming he had seen any of the others here since you were merely focused on you and Mill's conversation, you had never checked the time.
Calling out to the darkened room, "Striker?" But met with nothing but silence. Again, "Striker, hellooo?" Your voice shaking as you clutch your phone, fumbling to your room. Nothing, sighing you open your phone preparing yourself to text him back, 'Safe?' simple enough. Hours went by while you lay in bed, no response. In almost a blink of an eye hours turned into days, and those days turned into weeks. About four to be exact, you had given up knowing you pushed him away, you began to turn to old habits, the pills and self loathing crept back into your life like a toxic ex you even stopped showing up to IMP causing multiple texts from the group, as well as visits, you were almost never home, constantly going to the lust ring for your other job, a sexy bartender/dancer. Easy access for all the hard shit, and now that your ex no longer roams the streets you do not feel as worried to be there. Nobody would recognize you either way, you cut your hair to a wolfcut and gotten a couple tattoos, a piercing here and there. Not to mention a style upgrade, the drugs were in your system every day, and not only where you paying your bills but you even had money left over.
Sure you looked good, and sure you had money but your mental health may have taken the fattest shit on itself since Striker abandoned you. The vicious cycle continues each day for you, you even got yourself a new car with some help from Stolas the only one you cannot ignore since he can portal to you. Stolas tried to be there for you, especially when you would show up to his home, on the verge of an overdose each time, he would make something special for you each time, the first time it happened you ended up in a hospital and he tried to take you to rehab after which you refused and threated to off youself if he kept trying to shove rehab down your throat. Though you made him a promise as long as he never told the othere where you were and what you were doing, you would stay alive for him.
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You open your eyes and yawn, wiping the leftover makeup off your eyes slightly, immedietely opening your nightstand and opening the pillbottle, swallowing the dry pills and then right after grabbing your blunts, which you now smoked every day, grinning to yourself as you run to the bathroom, washing your face off and doing your now more expensive skincare routine, believe it or not you showered last night but forgot to get the rest of the makeup off, smirking to youself as you begin to feel the drugs kick in, you light your blunt letting the smoke engulf the bathroom before stepping out to change, showing off your tattoos and scars not giving a fuck.
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You grab a matching purse and grab your car keys, as well as a banana on the way out, due to all the drugs your metabolism cannot seem to catch up to the food you eat, leaving you on the thinner side. sliding on a pair of matching heels you head outside blunt still in mouth and lock the door, huffing you get in the car and take your shoes off to drive to lust, the time was about 4PM you had just enough time to do your other sidejob before bartending. You begin to drive and inbetween lights you apply a new face of makeup, not full but the simple things. Prepping yourself for selling, selling what you might ask, well drugs. How else would you have so many if not also selling them.
Sorry for this short chapter, but this story is also taking a major shift in personallites and how Y/ N is going to be percived, I am open to notes and suggestions but lets be honest this is hell. :)
