The motels you migrated from were horrible but your home. You had no one but David. Everyone left you. Your parents kicked you out after they found needles under your bed, saying it’s for you to get better. Friends abandoned you because you had a drinking problem.

How does a rich girl with a loving family and group of friends turn into an addict? You swore of your life that you always tried to get better, that in your eyes you could fly, fly away from all your problems. But the cards were never in your favor.

Better luck next time.

Your life was crumbling apart in front of you. But David was there for you. He reminded you that you don’t need someone that would leave you so easily. You could be high out of your mind on god knows what and he’d stay, nursing you.

“I’ve got you, pretty girl.” David helps you walk through the motel room door. He had found you in a crackhouse, coked out of your mind.