heroin

7: Ashes to Ashes - David Bowie

For as long as he can remember, he's always liked boys. There was one, however, that he admired from afar. The Boy on the Other Side of the Class, Artin, was special. There was a glow to him that attracted girls to him like moths to a flame.

They hated each other growing up. Maybe it was the resentment of the pent up feelings they shoved down into the pits of their stomachs or the internalised fear of accepting themselves. Maybe it was deeper than hate.

They were 16 when the hate turned into sexual tension. Artin was everything he ever wanted, and more (although he would never admit that). But eventually, the stolen glances and secret hand holding became tedious. His fear of boredom contributes to his fatal flaw of sabotaging every Good Thing to come into his life. He wanted (wants) more.

But he stayed with Artin out of the lust they shared for each other when they were alone. That was all they had, though Artin claimed it was "love".

He remembers the night his world imploded. He remembers the look on Artin's father's face and the screeching halt of the record and the silence that followed. He remembers what they did to him after. He remembers the whips and irons and how they scarred his skin. He still has scars from what they did to him. Some of them just weren't physical.

He sees himself in the mirror and notices his jutting ribcage and bloody knuckles and sunken eyes and yellow skin. He's not a whole person anymore.

Ashes to ashes, funk to funky
We know Major Tom's a junkie
Strung out in Heaven's high
Hitting an all time low