Freak || Aaron Bruno

Freak - Lana Del Rey;

If there's one thing I do regret, it's falling in love with you. But at the same time, I'm glad I did. You make me feel bittersweet..I can't describe it and I hate it. I hate you, I hate you so much I love you. Our love is like a cheesy story you hear in songs or movies. My love for you is strong, but you're so fucking weak. I didn't mind taking care of you...but I ended up growing numb. You never listen to me anymore, talking to you is literally like talking to a brick wall. Sometimes I can't tell if you still love me. Do you love me just so I can take care of you? Or are you actually in love with me? I still remember how it all started. I play it back in my head every day and wonder where I went wrong.

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{Panama City Beach, Florida 1998}

God, I fucking hate it here. Nobody does shit but get high of yayo...or the original term: cocaine. Everyone does it, well besides my family. My family is rather strange. My father is an alcoholic business man, my mom's a singer in a bar but mainly stays home to take care of me. Now that I'm eighteen, she doesn't anymore. It's not like we hate each other, it's just that we don't like each other. My alcohol addiction comes from my father so I have that to blame, but it's also my fault too. I smoke a lot of weed, but I blame that on my boyfriend. Well, he's not even my boyfriend if I'm honest. We're best friends, at least that's what he says. He's a stoner, a big stoner. All he does is smoke dope, ride his skateboard, listen to music, and play his guitar. Not like I can get mad at him, I do all of that with him. We're actually in a band together, but it's shitty as hell. I hate it here. Things were fine before Paris moved. That's my actual best friend.

She moved around the beginning of this year, only because of her boyfriend, Drew. He's from that California state everyone talks so highly about. She was fucking head over heels for him and he somehow convinced her to move over there. Speaking of which, it's actually where I'm headed now. Paris thought it would be a good idea if I took a short vacation and visited her and her now fiancé. It couldn't hurt right? I need a break from this hell anyway. I know she was probably going to convince me to move there...but I can't. There's no way I could ever. The plane ride kind of sucks. It was over crowded and smelled like pure meth. Ew.

I hadn't noticed we landed until the person next to me shook me to wake me up. How awkward. I did thank him, though. Rising up from seat and stretching, waiting for everyone to get their things and leave. Eventually, I made it off of the meth-smelling plane. My head's pounding. The next challenge was finding Paris...if she is even here. I did, how could I miss her? She was holding a huge ass sign with my name on it. Cringe.

"Really?" I gave her a look as I reached her.

"Yeah, why not? I was afraid you wouldn't be able to find me if I didn't stand out." Paris frowned and put down the board, rolling it up.

"Well, I found you, didn't I?"

"Mhm...are you excited to be here?" She asked with a little too much excitement.

"I-I guess? I mean, sure, yeah." I shrugged. She didn't like my response at all. I could tell.

"C'mon, you're in California! It's much better than home back in Florida."

"Oh yeah? Prove it then." I crossed my arms.

"I will tomorrow. First, we need to get you settled. Oh, you'll love our apartment! It's very spacious and has a lot of rooms, by the beach too." Paris explained.

"Sounds like my house back in Florida."

"It's different, it's magical here."

Yeah, magical my ass. I felt bad, I really did. My best friend was so excited to see me, but for some reason I just wasn't excited to be...here. Nothing really sparks me anymore except alcohol and weed. Pathetic, right? The car ride to her place wasn't as bad as I expected. We played some old songs and caught up on how we were doing.