Asphalt// Lil Peep x Reader

/Chapter 2/

Your P.O.V.

You sighed lightly as you walked into your motel room, the smell of the stale carpet filling your nose.
You lived in a motel because rent was cheap and the owner of the hotel was your fifth cousin (twice?) removed.

Long story short, you just had to make monthly rent and you were cool to keep your room.

You placed your purse on the bed and turned on the shower, the water spitting out before becoming a constant stream of steaming water. You took off the thin layer of clothing that covered you and threw it into a bag for laundry. Sadly, the bag started to smell like alcohol, so you decided that the bag needed a wash as well once you got to it.

You stepped into the shower and winced as the hot water hit small bruises on your skin. Bruises from falling off the pole, or tripping, or your boss..

Your boss was named Tyler, but everyone at work was forced to call him Tamer. If you didn't rake in enough cash for him to benefit, he would hit you until you worked later to make enough cash. With no compensation of overtime, obviously.

The small bruises were old, as you got better at your job and was now the Tamers favorite specimen.

You shivered as you thought of yourself as an object. You knew you were human, but even as a child you were treated as nothing but an object expected to be the best.

You ran away, just to be greeted with the same treatment again.
You eventually started to see yourself as nothing, slowly getting consumed into drugs and alcohol to fill yourself up with numbness.

Tears mixed with the hot shower water as your past was brought back into your mind. But you told yourself 'Stop fucking crying, Y/N, you pussy. You're fucking worthless'.

You took a deep breath and reaches out of the shower to your phone, tapping on the screen to find music to listen to. Heavily Medicated by $uicideboy$ started to play, nodding lightly to yourself to agree to the choice.

If you were a rapper, you decided to you liked $uicideboy$'s style, and you would take after them if you ever did record yourself.

But, no time to do so. You had so much work to do, so much money to make to stay alive.

One perk to work is that old rich men offer you champagne and food on the job, so you never come hungry, but almost never sober. Being drunk has its benefits to not feeling, but it does make you feel hungry.

Your stomach growled under the water and music but you felt your body shake. You sighed as you washed your hair and body, feeling a light pain begin to start in your gut. You shaved every unwanted hair on your body and turned the water off. You didnt feel relaxed, like most do after a shower.

You felt even more anxious and stressed, the need for food growing louder. You grabbed your phone and walked into the vast of your room, opening your closet and pulling out a pair of ripped jeans and a FTP sweatshirt.

You decided not to wait anymore and pulled on some panties a bra and the clothes over your body, you grabbed your purse and headed out the door to get food.

Peep's P.O.V.

"Horse?" I said, my voice raspy and dry.

"Yuh?" He replied, eyes locked on the road.

"Can we get food? I'm fucking starving." I asked, he chuckled and lightly shook his head.