Bizzle imagines

23. Shades of cool(meaningful,sad)

Authors note: no offense to Justin, it's just an imagine :)

Imagine based on Shades Of Cool By Lana Del Rey

He's so cold and unpredictable. I never know if he's gonna snap or breakdown in tears.

He has on a stonewall face, gray and empty.

His existence is in California, that's where I met him.

I thought I could fix him and break through his world. But deep down I know he lives for love. He loves his baby, but he has a strange way of showing it.

Everyday I stay awake in our bed, staring up at the white ceiling and believe he will change. He will allow me too get him some help. He will stop loving the drugs.

I stay because he's invincible and our love is unbreakable. Or is it? Can I break it?

My life has evolved around him, I worry for him more than I do for myself.

I'm used to the trip outs he has and the emotional breakdowns. He's never done anything to me, his baby, but I still fear for my mental well being.

I myself am not into his drug dealing habits and never plan on getting involved. He wants drugs, peace and quiet, and maybe even someone new.

Ive become a different person, someone who doesn't wanna deal with his drug business. Suppose he wants someone who will stay up at night and get high with him, because I won't.

This wasn't the life I wanted. I wanted a boyfriend who isn't high or on something whenever he can get his hands on it. I want, I want, I want...sometimes we don't get everything we want do we?

I got the fancy house, nice cars. I got money. Now I don't believe the saying 'all you need is money'. Money is supposed to bring happiness, at least that's what everybody thinks. I got money and am I happy? no.

He lives for love, he lives for love, I remind myself. But I don't think I wanna give him my love and time anymore.

Tell me, should I go? Who am I even talking to? God?

Something about him entices me and keeps my feet planted right here in California, in this exspensive, beautiful home.

"Y/n" I hear his rusty voice call from the bedroom. I was sitting at the kitchen table studying for a university exam.

The funny thing with this relationship is that I'm not crazy about drugs. Sure I've tried stuff because well, my boyfriends an addict, he's got the best of the best.

I've done a few things and I've realized it really does ruin your life, look at him. Pimples were covering my face, my skin turning dull. It needed to stop.

I attended a drug support group secretly, that's what he needs.

Ever since my brain has clicked in, all I do is worry.

At first it was an adventure-filled relationship. I felt no need to be smart or have boundaries or even rules.

If I was going to waste my life, I was going to waste it with him.

I've changed but he's just getting worse. I'm smartening up. I wanna have a great, happy life. But once again, we don't get everything we want do we?

I'm realizing this relationship is ruining my future. Either I'm going to die because of the emotional stress or I'm going to watch my lover die in front of me. He's dying in front of me at this moment.

Getting up slowly I walk up the light carpeted stairs. Dragging myself down the dark hallway and entering our master bedroom.

The lights are dimmed and I see him sitting on the dark hardwood floor, hunched over something.

"Yes Justin?" I ask, crossing my arms over my chest and leaning against the door frame. "Have you seen my rolling papers?" He asks sounding panicked and doesn't bother to look up at me.

"You had them in the bedside table remember?" I answer. I feel drained and used. I'm nothing but a pretty girl skipping around this estate for his pleasure. That's what it is isn't it? Pleasure. Not mine but his.

He gets up quickly and rushes to the bedside table, flinging open the drawer.

It's like watching an animal. Searching hungrily for food, they need it or else they will die. Justin thinks drugs are food. Drugs are a want, that you soon become addicted to.

You want it, you want it. You don't need it. But the state you grow into, you do need it.

I see a smile form on his face. It's not the beautiful smile that I fell in love with. It's a crazy, menacing smile.

Slowly he raises the rolling papers up from the drawer. His eyes swirl with delight and victory. It's scary to watch, to be brutally honest.

Lightening quick he zips back to his area. Marijuana, hash, cocaine in little baggies scatter across his territory. Small cardboard boxes, plastic containers, all filled with unknown substances I'd rather not know.

I retreat down the hallway, seeing he's got what he wants. There it is again, want. Not what he needs.

Once downstairs I close my school books and notepad. Grabbing my cellphone, I slip outside to the backyard, shutting the sliding door behind me.

Shaky breathes leave my mouth as I search the internet, looking for a number. Seeing it I continue farther into the backyard, so he can't hear me.

My hands are shaking as I get to the end of the lot. A chain link fence overlooks the Calabasas hills. Leaning my back against it, I stare at the beautiful house.

It seems to have dulled and grown empty just like this relationship...just like Justin.

Without wasting another breath I dial the number, 1-800-565-8603. My eyes look up at our darkened bedroom window. Just knowing he's in there, wasting his life away.

The phone is pressed against my ear and it rings. "Drug and alcohol helpline. My name is Becky. How may I help you?" The woman says on the other line.

Swallowing a lump in my throat and keeping my eyes connected on the window, I speak shakily. "H-hello I'm calling because my partner is a drug addict. I-I" i take a deep breath. "I need some critical and quick support" I finish.

"Okay mam. What city are you living in currently?" She asks. "C-Calabasas, California" I respond, running a hand through my hair shakily.

"Ok we have many services in your area. Would you like to write them down?" She questions. "No I can remember them. But he is very stubborn on getting some help" I explain.

"Not to worry mam. We will support and listen. Our priority is too get the help your partner needs" she states assuringly.

I'm sorry Justin but you need help. I will no longer be your baby, if this keeps up. Your falling apart right in front of me, you need help.

No more reaching for a drug whenever you can. I know you wont reach out for help, so I have too.

My lover, Justin Drew Bieber loves his baby, loves his drugs...he's living in shades of cool and he's sinking into the ice cold depths.