'AM' based story

2004. The musics trashy. The parties are trashy. And the 17 year old aspiring photographer, Isla Newton is in a strangers house in Sheffield, when she'd rather be in her bed back in Manchester. However after acquainting herself with Alex, the lead singer of the band playing in the basement, the night wasn't exactly a waste. After an abrupt end to the party, the two part ways with the belief that they'll never see each other again. That is until the two meet eyes outside a pub in Soho 7 years later. His bands famous. Her life is crumbling. Perhaps its fate? Isla Newton doesn't believe in fate.

"Call off the search for your soul, or put it on hold again." A private booth, a broken heart, a girl dressed in red, at a strip club. because sometimes love isn't what it was ever supposed to be. ••• This story has a lot of more mature themes than my other works, incl. addiction, dr*g use, s*x work and toxic relationships, please avoid reading if any are subjects you don't feel comfortable with, please put yourself first <3

"𝚈𝚊𝚗𝚘," 𝙸 𝚜𝚑𝚞𝚍𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚜 𝙸 𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚊𝚔, "𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚙𝚎𝚘𝚙𝚕𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚢 𝚠𝚎'𝚛𝚎 𝚐𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚗𝚎𝚛, 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚞𝚜𝚞𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜𝚗'𝚝 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚜 𝚖𝚞𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚛." 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚕𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑, 𝚊 𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚞𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚍𝚎𝚎𝚙, 𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚗𝚊𝚐𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚌𝚑𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚌𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚞𝚙 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚝 and 𝙳𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚍 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚊𝚔, "𝚆𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚊𝚒𝚍 𝚠𝚎'𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚜, 𝚂𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚑." * Sarah Michaels is a runaway, though with her thick skin and rocky past, she just might make it in Santa Carla.

"Why'd you come here every day? Cigarettes don't run out overnight." Alex Turner is in his last year of school, perfectly ready to let it pass by like a grey train with no intentions of jumping on. He doesn't expect anything interesting to happen in his very mediocre life, and that's when a girl dressed like his favourite worst nightmare waltzes on in and flips everything upside down.