(Loki's POV)
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I'd made a fairly large mess to make my poison more accessible to myself. I finally dipped the needle in the murky brown substance that sat in the tablespoon, it slightly tipping over the edges and spilling onto the once white counter. I pulled it into the needle sinking it into a vein on my arm which had already been prepared for the injection, pushing the drug directly into my system. There was a knock on the bathroom door and I fumbled to put everything away in its proper bags, calling out to Ashfree that I would be only a minute. My mind seemed to be blocked and unintelligent as I forced my fingertips to wrap around the objects and tossing them into the filth of the cabinet not able to hold the weight of it any longer. I then breathed deeply, unlocking the door and opening it. Ashfree stood, fully dressed with a curious expression crossing his features. "Are you ready yet," he asked, momentarily scanning what I was wearing, his eyes flickering to what he expected behind me seeming exasperated as he found nothing. "Give me just a moment," I muttered before closing the door softly. I wiped down the counters with toilet paper before flushing it away and hesitantly dropping my phone in my pocket. I absolutely hated the thing but if Lance ever were to call I needed it with me. At all times.
I exited again, spotting the blonde standing promptly outside the entrance of the bathroom looking carefully at the mess of my bed. As he heard me though he gave me a smile before guiding me silently down the hall, out the door and into his car. He played some music that buzzed in my ears the wrong way and I had forgotten who he was at least several times during the ride, spiking and thinking I was being stolen but he brushed off the many wild and confused looks I gave him. He knew of my addiction, I only felt it fair to tell him since he'd been living with me quite a while and had begun questioning the strange things I did. He accepted it only because he was desperate but he eventually warmed up to me as another human and began inviting me to things, introducing me to friends, bringing me food, and every once in a while even washing my clothes for me. He was a kind dude and although I appreciated him I tried to avoid him as often as possible because he would always look for my stash even though he unknowingly passed it each time he had used my bathroom during his ragers when the main bathroom was constantly occupied. Sometime during the ride, the blonde glanced over at me, noting the shaking of my body and turned on the heater in hopes to stop it or at least subdue it a bit.
He truly was a nice guy, very caring but he just was never around, always off with friends getting drunk, stoned, or laid. I almost laughed at the thought. His life was free and he could do anything he wanted when he wanted to but I'd trapped myself in a war I didn't know quite how to escape and I was beginning to think there was only one way out and I couldn't hurt Lance like that. I'd been addicted to many different drugs over the past twelve years but most of them I could put behind me easily. With heroin it was different. It was like it was the only thing that kept my heart beating and eyes blinking. It was the entirety of my soul. Even quitting smoking had been easier even though I'd began smoking again when I'd moved out of my mother's home. I'd only stopped when Lance was born. I started more serious drugs at seventeen, five years later. I got kicked out when Lance was six but kept in touch with him trying to be sure he didn't follow the same path that I had. He was at the exact same age I was when I tried crack for the first time and Xanax, as well as Vicodin, cocaine, MDMA, shrooms... The rest isn't relevant. The point is my father had just died months before I started using from being an idiot drunk and jumping off a statue in the park after having his buddies take a picture of him with his finger in the statue's nose. He dived off and no one even realized it because they were all wasted. They thought he'd passed out.
It certainly wasn't the most glorified death but my father had gone away without warning and left us with only our mom who was addicted to Adderall and sex. She married the first man who would take her, which wasn't very hard considering she did have quite a bit of money due to my father. Twelve years later they were still together but Victor had become abusive long before, gaining resentment from both me and my brother.
He found out that I had become hooked on a few things... maybe lot of things and he had warned me that he'd have me by the throat if he found anymore so I had packed a bowl of weed right before his beady, perverted eyes that could make a war hero cringe and pressed the pipe to my lips, not even getting the satisfaction of the hit before he ripped it from my grip and smashed it against the wall. And all I did at that moment was laugh in response, my head already filled with an intense amount of cocaine. I left that night, taking my drugs and only my drugs, not giving a shit about Lance at the time. My father had left me quite a bit of money but I kept it hidden away not yet tapping into those funds. I was a drug addict, not an idiot. Instead, I stole money from Victor, helped the brain-dead jocks cheat on tests, and more than once gave out sexual favors.
"Loki?" I faintly heard Ashfree's voice, realizing we'd made it to the club already. I looked over at the blonde who was standing at my side, the door open as he bent down to peer at me, his soft eyes worried. I smiled at him. "Sorry, I zoned out a bit." He nodded in understanding, offering a hand to help me out of the car, pulling my weight up until I was flat on my feet. Then he gently guided me to the side before closing the door softly and soundlessly behind me. I could hear the music, echoing from the club that was so close yet seemed miles to walk. The line was short and the bouncers seemed laid back enough. Ashfree stopped me from walking with an arm in front of my chest, causing me to stumble a little. "Hey, I want you to stay close to me tonight. You don't look so good." His brown eyes narrowed to make sure I knew how serious he was as he looked into my eyes. I nodded, knowing I wasn't actually going to stick around him like some type of obedient little puppy.
As soon as I entered the building I tried to wander off but Ashfree surprised me by gripping my hand and pulling me back to stand next to him. He was a lot stronger and taller than I was on top of the fact that my mind was basically nothing so I didn't try to fight him. I sniffed as my nose begin to run again, as it usually did and the blonde brought me to the bar, helping me onto the stool since I wasn't very tall and he most likely knew I was high. I giggled slightly while he got us drinks and I instantly swallowed mine in a gulp, ordering another immediately after. "Hey, Loki. I want you to stay here while I go find Mira. Okay," he said loudly enough to be heard over the music. I felt sick as I swallowed the second shot but I gave a short okay and downed six more before a young looking boy sat next to me, glancing over to me. His gray eyes met mine for only a moment before turning his attention to the bartender and ordering his drink in a quiet, rough voice. I wanted to look away, I really did but I couldn't as I stared at his dark hair, blending into everything around me. He glanced at me again and narrowed his eyes menacingly. "What?"
