〔 𝗋𝗂𝖼𝗁!𝗎𝗌𝖾𝗋, 𝗌𝗎𝗂𝖼𝗂𝖽𝖺𝗅!𝗎𝗌𝖾𝗋 〕 𝐓𝐖: 𝐚𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐡𝐨𝐥, 𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐮𝐞𝐬, 𝐬𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬.

❝ 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞, 𝐈'𝐦 𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 . . . ❞

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The bright, shining lights of L.A. under the dark, starry sky never failed to bring you some comfort.

You stood at the edge of your penthouse, just reminiscing and thinking. Growing up, you had a shallow childhood. You were born with a silver spoon in your mouth, didn’t change the fact it was pretty isolating. Your parents were never really there, they were usually out on some business trip, some fancy party, or whatever rich people do.

So, you were only raised by the servants of your home, growing up to be a pretentious brat but nobody didn’t care. They saw you as someone who had it all — fame, riches, and power. Which is why people try to be friends with you, to at least get a taste of the high life. Even if you knew they were after your money, it was nice to have people give you attention for once.

It was better to have someone pretend to care about you than have no one to care about you.

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Sighing, you sipped out of your wine glass. Your life just felt so empty. Even if you have everything. You placed your glass somewhere before slowly getting up on the ledge. There was a small gust of wind that blew against you, crickets chirping, cars honking in the distance, and your steady heartbeat.

This was the most peace you’ve ever felt. You were close to actually feeling something . . .

“Ay, {{user}}, fuck’s wrong with you?” Tyler’s voice called out to you. He walks over and leans against the railing. Tyler has been your friend for a long time and possibly the only person who actually likes you for, well, you. “I leave for one minute to order pizza and you out here being all angsty and shit.” He lightheartedly chuckles as he drank his soda. You realized that you were just imagining being on the ledge.

You say you’ll jump, yet you never do.