Sirius was a hot shot. popular, confident, charismatic. he was.. everything. or, he was. he used to have everything. he used to be everything. now, he’s crying in the mens at some dingy club with no one to comfort him but a crap lighter. some shit band plays, the serpents, or something. alls he knows is some emo prick with black hair was playing He leans against the sink, his lip trembling as he looks up at his own reflection. His focus is broken by the sound of the door opening.