𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙚𝙣𝙙𝙞𝙥𝙞𝙩𝙤𝙪𝙨 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚, 𝙘𝙝

0.4 || "on acid or just sleepy."

0.4
|| on acid or just sleepy. ||
——
"she don't know,
where she plans to go.
oh, she's no hand to hold."
{pisces, riz la vie}

warning: drug use
        
minimal lighting lays a soft haze over the room surrounding indigo. she can feel the intoxicating effects of the air she's breathing as she exits the kitchen of the house she's currently in. who's house it is, she has no clue. when her best friend mentioned a party, indigo figured there was no harm in letting go for once.

the past month has been agonizingly repetitive. she stays up all might at the beach, writing and thinking, before going back to the house to sleep for most of the day. she has begun to realize that she's forgotten the sole reason she came to san diego in the first place.

**
life in san francisco was everything she dreamt of growing up. if 15 year old indigo could see herself at 23, working with biggest brands in the world and photographing models that people pay hundreds of dollars to watch walk across a runway... she would possibly burst with excitement.

her life was quite literally centered around her work. every waking moment revolved around the idea of perfection and beauty. she spent hours working with magazine editors, picking apart the faces of women who didn't need a single retouch. it was almost as if she stopped being able to see the world around herself clearly.

every thought in indigo's mind was influenced by her job. she stopped enjoying simple things like looking at the sky when the sun rose or that first sip of coffee after an exhausting all nighter. things that once excited her and reminded her why she fought for gaining the life she wanted. it's not that sunrises and coffee were the driving forces of her purpose and drive in life, but she had always been able to notice the little things that affected her positively.

after a while, coffee was coffee and sunrises simply meant she couldn't stay in bed. photographing someone who's net-worth was more than the cost of three years of indigo's rent stopped leaving her star struck and being introduced to movie stars felt like a boring conference room meeting.

it's not that she stopped being grateful, or that she stopped loving what she did, because indigo loves photography more than practically anything else. she never stopped loving it, instead it was suddenly simply her job. it became the paycheck at the end of a project, or the reason she had to set an alarm at 4am sharp. she loved it, yes, but she lost that passion that fueled her in the beginning.

she was sitting on the 20th floor of some fashion magazine's building when she realized it. she looked out at the reflection of the setting sun against the buildings surrounding her. red and orange hues surrounded her, yet she didn't pick up her phone and swipe over to her camera app. she went back to typing up her schedule for the week. she stopped typing right in the middle of it, she knew she had an appointment with an executive from vogue at 2pm on wednesday, but her fingers paused over the keyboard.

she felt the warm tears on her cheeks before she realized she was crying. it wasn't sadness per say, instead it was an overwhelming feeling of stress and anxiety. she clicked out of her digital calendar, standing up and walking towards the tall windows.

she pressed a hand against the glass, staring at the coastline. she pulled her phone from her pocket and clicked on the camera icon. she took only one photo before dialing the number of her best friend, georgia.

she heard a few rings before the voice of georgia sounded through the speaker.

"indie? hey!" indigo's lips spread into a smile at the joyful tone to her friends voice.