•New Perspective /Chic/ Riverdale•

~peaches and marijuana~

Author's note: I'M BACK! I didn't abandon this story! I just had hella exams and now I'm on Easter break so y'all should expect shit!
Also, this is a "storytime" of Chic's from 2 years ago. Enjoy!

That smile. That damn smile he had when he pulled back his black greasy hair away from his face. I will never forget it. I dream about it every night and cry myself to sleep over it. I fucking hate him.

What did I do to get my heart broken this way?

Oh, Frankie... 

When I moved to the motel and I was 18, they only had a bunk bed room where someone was already living, waiting for a roommate.

 He was a skinny boy, 22, black long hair and a cigarette in his mouth.

  He smelled of peaches and marijuana and had beautiful bloodshot green eyes.

"Hi, I'm Chic."

"Frankie." He said with a friendly voice while taking off his earbuds.

He truly seemed genuine for that very moment.

He got closer and closer and started touching skinny abdomen.

I think he was high. Or drunk. Or both. I should've backed out. But I didn't. I started doing the same thing.

  He took off his stained shirt and he took mine off after.

Two minutes later he was over me in bed and I was moaning like Gerard Way in Destroya.

In that moment I knew I shouldn't have done that.

But I couldn't back out. I liked it.

After we finished he took a bottle of cheap liquor and drank way too many shots.

At that point I was scared. But I still continued.

"Good morning sweetie" he said as he woke me up with a kiss.

His lips were so soft and they fit so well with mine. I've never felt that before, I only saw it with Mikey and Pete.

For lunch he took me to a nice artsy café. He had a sad look on his face.

Frankie sighed and started apologizing:

"I'm so sorry for last night. I just broke up with my girlfriend because she cheated and I tried to drown that out with alcohol."

His sleeve slipped and I saw a big scar. No, not like a self harm scar, a really deep one.

Little did I know that was intentional. He showed it to everyone.

He told me it was a suicide attempt.

I held his hand and told him he's beautiful and doesn't deserve to die like that.

I never did that, but I showed him my old scars. They were really faded. Untill...

One month after.

Our relationship has grown and we were officially a couple. Frankie stopped drinking and I didn't need antidepressants anymore. He made me happy and I made him happy... or so I thought.

This one evening, he didn't come home. I was concerned so I went to his favorite place, a little Chinese restaurant nearby.

I was angry when I saw him. He had those bloodshot eyes again and he was holding a girl's hand.

The same sad look.

The same slip of a sleeve.

The exact same phrase.

"I just broke up with my boyfriend because he cheated and I tried to drown that out with alcohol."

He never came back. I took his razor and cut on the same place I did when Mikey died.

From that moment, I didn't go clean again untill I found home.