A love story
Chapters with * next to the number may contain sensitive content.
WARNING: contains strong language, violence, sexuality, emotional trauma, drug use, and other content suited for mature audiences. Don't read if you're a pansy.
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I hopped on the next bus to take me as close to Coyote's apartment building as I could get. It was about a fifteen minute drive, enough time for me to grow more and more anxious. The world around me had vanished, along with my sanity.
The entire voyage was filled with nervous tapping and nail biting, my hands repeatedly grabbing ahold of my hair and then letting it go again. Why the fuck did I have to interfere with Randy's guys? The dope I got before when I followed Coyote on that ridiculous escapade had vanished within the next few days after receiving it. If I had known that would be the last I had from him, I wouldn't have overindulged.
Why did Bobcat have to overreact? Did I really offend her so wildly that she had to kick me to the curb? Bullshit, absolute bullshit.
As soon as I exited the bus I had to swerve around to target my location. The outside of the brick building was crumbled and worn, a sad excuse for a living location. Loud rock music was blaring out from the inside, and a plethora of low life degenerates hanging out by the front. Prostitutes, druggies; the whole family was here at this shitty apartment building to party. I wasn't complaining. This was probably where I belonged, too.
As soon as I made my way to the entrance I immediately encountered a couple twenty-somethings with cigarettes hanging out of their lips. "Hey, a girl named Coyote live here?" I questioned, very hastily.
"Yeah, she's been shut in all week. You her drug dealer or something? What, you do deliveries now?" They laughed to themselves as if they were the funniest fucks this side of New York. I rolled my eyes and pushed past them. I entered the lobby and leaned back against the wall near the door, sighing and running a hand through my hair. Behind me I heard the two fuck heads having a lovely little conversation about our previous engagement.
"I bet she bangs him for that dope."
"With that face no dealer would give her squat unless she was a fucking sex leopard."
"What the fuck does that even mean? Besides she ain't half bad lookin, she just got all that black shit around her eyes and all that metal in her face."
"Sex leopard?" I murmured and pushed myself off the wall.
I took one glance at the groaning, rusty elevator doors, the light above them busted. I pressed a finger against the button, only to be greeted by a low, angry growl. I decided against it.
I discovered the stairs and ascended them, the blaring music only growing louder and louder as I grew closer to the second floor. The hallway was dimly lit, the occasional misfit running past me. The smell of pot filtered out behind the apartment doors and into the walking area. I quickly scouted out the apartment number I was advised to locate, and dashed toward its old wooden frame.
