Scroll...Scroll...Scroll...Sc-Stop. It was Lydia. She posted the picture we took together. It was a Polaroid picture so she had to take a picture of it. But it was ripped in two. You read the description.
This is (y/n). Most of you know (him/her/them). I don't. At least not anymore.
You let a tear out. You check the clock 2:48am. You sigh. 'One hundred, ninety nine, ninety eight...' You drift off to your spotify playlist. "I know where you stand..."
YOU ARE READING
Quiet is Violent || twenty one pilots
FanfictionI wrote this when I was 11. Don't come for me. (Finished story) You've read almost every fic. You have way too many posters. About 500 shirts. You win a months worth of touring with them. Is it what you've always dreamed about? TW: mentions of depre...
