runaways || h.s

six;

            Lola was headed down a one-way street to hell and she couldn’t stop herself. No matter how much she tried to press the brakes and stop herself, or when someone else would try and pull her back, she kept getting sucked back in, and wasn’t able to get out.

            It had been three months since moving away when things started to get bad for not only Lola, but for Harry as well and whoever else they dragged down with them, or who was waiting at the bottom for them. James played the game of ‘fuck-and-chuck- with Lola many times and no matter how many times he left and came back only for sex, she’d go, and she’d come back worse than when she’d left. Harry had been on a downward spiral with Nic almost since the minute he’d gotten there, the first time she told him it was “just for fun, don’t worry about a thing.” Well, those ‘just for fun’s’ add up and it sucks you in and you’re unable to get out, and well, Harry was stuck at the bottom, waiting for Lola to join him and the others.

            By the sixth month, there seemed to be no way to get back, the lines being blurred between the real and the fake. Harry had been long gone and Lola was just about to join him. James had left her for someone better and new and he claimed he wouldn’t be coming back so she shouldn’t wait up. He’d done this to her and he was going to abandon her just like everyone else had. Harry was barely himself, and rarely ever home to even attempt at being there for someone he truly cared for even if he wanted. Nic had her grip on him, and it was tight.

            “You know, these people don’t even care about you,” James had said to Lola, his tone firm. “They never have; not even your precious Harry. I’m not even sure why they pretend they do, it’s not worth it; you’re not worth it.” That was the last thing he said to her before slinging his arm over a blondes shoulder and walking off with a confident smirk like he’d known what he’d actually done to her. Like he’d known how much his words had affected her.

            But Lola had to keep up her act and she had to pretend everything was okay; she couldn’t stop the drugs and the alcohol only made everything feel so much better. She knew when Harry was home he wasn’t in his right mind, not when he was with Nicolette, not when he wasn’t with Nicolette. She’d made sure to fuck up his life nice and good and she made sure everyone else knew that he was hers. And quite frankly, Harry didn’t do much to stop her.

            When Lola got the job dancing at the club – which only added to her problems with drugs and drinking – Taylor had quit. Turns out, she was pregnant; the only seemingly good news in the sad world Lola was living in. Taylor’s boyfriend was quite supportive in the whole ordeal and even ended up proposing, saying he’d want his baby to have what he didn’t. They still live in close and Taylor tries to communicate with Lola as much as she can, but sometimes Lola doesn’t even realize.

***

            “I don’t think you understand,” Lola said, her body shaking, but not because she was cold.

            “Sweetheart, I completely understand.” His voice was like hell freezing over and that wasn’t something Lola needed right now; she needed a fix. “I’ve got to meet a quota, and you don’t have the cash. I can’t help you.”

            Just as the man in the coat began to turn away, Lola grabbed his arm with all the strength she could pull and said, “Please, I’ll do anything. I need it.”

            He turned back around, a hand scratching at his scruffy beard, and looked down at Lola, her body shaking and fragile, her eyes empty and holding nothing but darkness.

            “Please,” Lola begged one last time.

            “You work at that club, Masquerade, don’t you?”