nothing goes to waste

《3》

The only thing George could remember after leaving your apartment was the small laugh you had made as he cracked his final joke before leaving completely.

He walked with his hands in his pockets, his eyebrows furrowed and a soft, sad smile on his face.

His earbuds were plugged in his ears, blocking out all the quiet noise in the streets of Brooklyn, New York.

"i dont feel much pain, got a knife in my back and a bullet in my brain. im, clinically insane walking home alone, i see faces in the rain..."

He sang, his eyes filling up with tears. The night was cool and dark, the only light sources were the lamposts in central park.

where did all the time go

spend it gettin high while i hide from the 5-0

where did all the lies go

George's phone vibrated in his pocket, but obviously he ignored it.  He continued walking, shutting his eyes tightly and tensing up his shoulders to avoid bumping into anyone.

Tears pooled in his eyes, but he didnt let them fall, nor didnt he wipe them away, either. He breathed out a heavy sigh, his pulse quickening.

He struggled not to cry, eventually resting on a nearby bench. He rested his head in his palms, sobbing silently.

He tried his hardest to stay silent, but the pain of trying not to cry made it harder and harder for him to stay upright.

His shoulders shook, and his nose was getting stuffy. He reached in his pocket to get his phone and change the current song that was playing.

The Way I see Things
Lil Peep

XXXTENTACION
I spoke to the devil in Miami, he said everything would be fine

The deep chords of the piano playing decresed his mood, only making the sudden sadness worse. But he didn't care.

What a time to be alive

He thought. He caught himself stupidly smiling over the stupid thought. He laughed at himself for being so stupid for thinking that it was a good idea.

You didnt like him, or see him that way. He knew you didnt. He tried so desperately to try and get close to you but always failed.

You would acknowledge him at times, but not as an everyday thing. It made him happy to know that you saw him as a person, not someone who annoys you on the down low.

"I just need to forget about this shit and move on, man." He said to himself.

On the way back to his apartment, he struggled to walk up the steps. He was feeling too sluggish and sleepy to function.

Luckily he wasnt drunk and made it to his front door. The thought of him stripping down and collapsed in his bed made him all the more eager to reach it.

George's door was open, unsurprisingly. He opened the door, kicked off his shoes and shut the door behind him.

He took off his hoodie, throwing it on the couch, threw his shirt in the restroom, and kicked off his jeans as he made his way onto his bed.

He climbed onto the soft sheets, his eyes lingering on the flashing numbers on the clock that resided on a nightstand next to his bed.

3:54

His eyebrows furrowed again, as he tried to forget the events of the past few hours. They were slowly fading away.

George slowly shut his eyes, a slight frown on his face, tear marks staining his cheeks.