A Loyal Customer

I Know The End

~Phoebe Bridgers

 Hey, 

Just to give you guys an idea, when I'm thinking of Ian and Mickey's appearance, I'm thinking of them in S10. I'll update the tags as I go. 

Also, every chapter title is a song title.

I'll attach the artist on the beginning notes of every chapterEnjoy!
I suppose this Chapter can be looked at as a prologue and Chapter 1 mixed together.

CW- A look in to one of Ian's manic episodes, and heavy self-loathing and regrets.

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Chapter 1

*Six years ago*

He got off his meds a couple days ago and he knew that he wouldn't be feeling this good if he hadn't.

It was a really nice night out, probably the best that year. It had the perfect balance of warm with a slight breeze and Ian was living for it. Fuck feeling numb. This is what Ian's been craving for months; to feel normal, to feel fantastic.

For months everyone's been looking over his shoulder, looking at him like a burden. Either they're counting his meds or tracking where he was as if he was still taking drugs from strangers at Boystown.

Lip won't even tell him what's going on in his life anymore and Fiona treats him like he might become Monica at any moment. Elliot always seemed to be trying a bit too hard too, feeling bad that he hasn't given Ian enough of his time and making promises to do better. No one treated him like Ian, anymore.

Roger did though.

Roger Spikey didn't seem to give two shits about whether Ian was on his meds or not and if Ian's being honest, he thinks Roger prefers him off of it anyway. 'You're more fun this way', is what he heard from him half-an hour ago when Ian was downing one third of a bottle of Tito's that Roger took from his dads liquor cabinet. Now they were wandering around the Southside. Ian, Roger, and the, now half empty, bottle of Tito's.

"You see some of these buildings? Gentrifiers, everywhere. You turn the road and there are signs, with even more promises of kicking out the poor to make space for the rich." Ian was slurring his words at this point and trying not to trip on his feet. He passed the bottle to Roger who was probably holding it together way better than he was. "When they succeed at making the Southside completely unrecognizable, where the fuck are we expected to go, huh? They don't care if we're homeless as long as it's not done here."

"You sound like Frank." Roger chuckled as he passed the bottle back and lights a cigarette. Ian was taken back by his words and if he weren't as gone as he was, he probably would have argued that statement. He was tired of hearing comparisons to his parents. He just wanted to be Ian.

"Fuck Frank." He spat.

"Fuck gentrifiers." This for some reason re-sparks his anger with the topic he was discussing two seconds ago. Maybe it was the Tito's, maybe it was the comparison Roger just made, or maybe it was all this anger Ian was holding towards everyone that made him want to unleash on the wealthy. Regardless of the reason, he was feeling fantastic.

"FUCK GENTRIFICATION!" He shouted as loud as he could. The feeling he had inside was raging and without much careful thinking, because fuck gentrification, he threw the half-empty bottle of Tito's in a random direction, which led straight into a wide window. The glass shattered everywhere, and it was truly amazing to watch. He felt like he was on top of the world, and it made him laugh. The rush he got from finally feeling something was unmatched. Fuck feeling numb.