Purple Thunder (finished)

Call It What You Want To (finale)

ATTENTION: it is here! after almost half a year, the finale of purple thunder is here! If you're still sticking around, thank you, I love you! I hope this one isn't too cringey for you all, it sure as hell is for me! I hope it lives up to your expectations (at least a little). As always let me know how you like it, shoot me a dm, ask, anything. I love hearing from you.

PS. this contains song lyircs of: The Pretty Reckless - Kill me; Greta van Fleet - Safari Song & Taylor Swift - Call it what you want to.

english is not my first language, sorry for mistakes. Also, I didn't proof read much - bare with me please.

Words: 4,3+k

Warnings: cursing? none else, it's fluffy and cringey, whatever ;')

*flashback to two years ago*

"Not very subtle is it?"

"What are you saying?" you looked up to see Rufus looking over shoulder to read along the scribbled lines written on your notepad.

"drugs, bars, backseats of cars, blowing boys?" he read chuckling his way to take a seat on the couch beside you.

"It's Rock 'N Roll what do you expect" you laughed pulling your feet up to rest them on his thighs.

"Now who's the child of a fucking rock legend out of the two of us?"

"You know, if I didn't know any better, I'd say it was you" Rufus pinched your leg before bringing them to the ground.

"Enough talking let's get mortal or I'm going to die" you jumped up and it wasn't two hours later that you were in the bathroom of a club fooling around with a random dude. Living the life of a rockstar to its fullest potential, for once not thinking about what the media would have to say the next morning. You didn't give a fuck. With one swift motion you pulled out a little plastic bag of coke and sloppily made a line along the countertop. Hands trembling in anticipation and the guys lips were nibbling on your neck.

"You got any money on you?" he brought his hot wet lips from your neck and handed you a crumbled up 5 pound note that he kept in the front pocket of his jeans. You used the money to press one nostril down and snorted hard.

"Fuck you're so hot" the guy said while having his eyes on you by looking in the mirror.

"want some?" you offered, but he declined. Another sloppy line and a make out session later, you stumbled out.
It was a hard life. It sucked. But you would never let anyone know. Chasing a high but falling down even lower and hitting the ground.
City. Concert. Drinks. Drugs. Sex. Meltdown. Repeat.

The rare nights you spent alone in your hotel room were the worst. You felt small, like you didn't belong, being not able to tell fantasy from reality, seeing how far you could go. Zoning out, even if it was just for half an hour was a relief, not being yourself. Not having to be yourself.

You stomped back into the room. Your drummer, Sid to your left having some blonde chick pressed up to a wall and he fist bumped you. A sort of "congratulating" each other on the many times you both got lucky.
Hot bodies all over the place and it felt like if one more person entered the club, it would have exploded. You felt your high slowly fade, trying to match names to the people you encountered all while searching for someone you personally knew.
Long blond hair at the bar. Rufus.

"Heyyy" you slurred at him as he turned around. A pint of beer in his hand.

"Y/N! You don't look too good honey"

"What a gentleman you are" your eyes were still blown and glassy. He looked quite concerned.

"I'll take you to the hotel love" he touched your arm in a caring gesture.