He was a billionaire, I was a bellboy, can I make it anymore obvious? It all started one fateful afternoon in summer of 2012. I was working as a bellboy at the Trump Hotel in Hong Kong on an internship program. This was my first time in a big city. It was all I could have ever dreamed of, and more. But little did I know, it was all about to change. Follow me on twitter.com/aguywithnolife Please note, this story may contain mature humor that isn't suitable for all ages.

- I slammed my head down on my keyboard, fed up with looking at an empty screen, this stupid short story was due in a week and I barely had a story line. Of course I wanted to write, I just couldn't; I physically couldn't make my fingers move, it was like my brain just shut down and went on vacation. Little balls of paper with rejected ideas were thrown across the room, the black dress from the memorial still plagued my body, and plates of uneaten dinner sat on my nightstand. I flopped on my bed, petting the big, black monster of a cat that sat basking in the sunshine that Easily filled the darkness that I was so comfortable living in.. - Spray paint , bonfires, and fast food. Rori finds herself following the footsteps of her deceased brother, whether it be running from the cops, or spiraling into the dark hell hole that goes by depression. Failing grades, short stories, and deadlines, she's just trying to hold it together, but maybe In order to find the inspiration to keep going, she needs to let it fall apart