August 3rd 2019

Art Donaldson does not smoke. Not anymore, at least. He’s on a health kick: green juice, portion control, protein shakes and training, four hours a day.

And yet, the pack of cigarettes at the bottom of his duffel bag calls to him almost every hour of the day. He doesn’t even know why he bought them.

It’s a bad habit, an awful habit that he needs to break, a vice that he just can’t seem to loosen.

Like you.

Tashi’s gone to her ‘mom’s’ hotel room again. A lie. She’s in Patrick Zweig’s bed for god’s sake. If he even has one, that is.

And Art is left with Lily, his gorgeous little daughter, who he carries so gently as he sits down on the edge of the hotel pool, feet dangling in the water. She’d fast asleep against his chest when you sit down beside him and he asks you for a smoke.

That’s how you got here, Art’s head on your shoulder as you cradle both him and Lily close, fingers carding through his hair as he puffs away on your vape, the scent of cherry filling the air around you.

“Tashi doesn’t want me anymore, y’know?…. I don’t know what to do…”