violent ends ; brandon arreaga

x ; new york

♡♡

emerson's pov

it felt like ages before i landed back in new york; it felt weird being back in the big city, seeing as the last time i was here was when i left my life behind to go to los angeles. i gathered all my belongings, waiting for everyone to get off before getting up to leave.

"have a good night sweetheart" the flight attendant smiled at me as i passed her on my way out.

a spark of excitement bounced around in my body as i waited for my dad to pick me up; i rolled on the balls of my feet, pulling my coat closer as a gust of wind blew.

i stood in that spot for 10 minutes; watching the cars pass and a couple a few feet ahead of me saying their goodbyes while being affectionate.

the buzz of my phone in my sweatpants pocket pulled my attention away from the couple; disappointment filled my body as i read the the text that popped up on my home screen from my father. i texted back then caught an uber to the place that i called home for 16 years of my life.

♡

imessages

dad:
hey sweetie, i'm sorry for the
late notice but i can't pick you
up.. i have to stay late at work,
there's a deadline that i need to
meet tonight. see you in the
morning.

emerson:
oh okay.. it's fine dad, i'll see you
tomorrow morning.

♡

"thank you" i stepped out of the uber, sending a half smile to the driver before stepping out of the vehicle, adjusting my duffel bag and walking up to the porch of the familiar brick house.

unlocking the door and stepping inside caused a wave of memories to hit me like a tidal wave; i held my breath and stared in awe at the old family pictures displayed.

i grazed my fingertips across priceless photographs that were framed and hung on the walls of the small entrance hall of the house.

"i miss you everyday" i whispered, running my finger over the photograph of my mother smiling in happiness.

♡

my feet dragged across the pavement, it was already one in the morning but i couldn't sleep; the slight sleep deprivation making my eyelids heavy. i found myself sitting on a familiar rooftop, twinkly lights hung off the glass ceiling. the slight buzz of my phone pulled me out of my trance.

i texted my manager jordan back then slid my phone in my hoodie, replacing the item with a pack of marlboro cigarettes. i lit up a stick of the highly addictive killers, holding it up to my lips and inhaling. letting the nicotine fill up my lungs before releasing - repeating that process until the stick burned to the butt.

smoking has always been a bad habit, i started at only 16 - the addiction stuck to me for two years until i broke the habit a couple months ago. falling off the wagon was easy, this being the first smoke i had in a while; i could already feel myself falling back into bad habits.

"those aren't good for you, you know" a voice said from the bench over. i dropped the cigarette butt on the floor, stomping on it with my shoe then bringing my attention to the dark skinned male.