He was broke. And so were you. That's why the two fit together so well, so correctly, as if they were two drops of water. And yet, they were both out of control, drinking like a couple of alcoholics, taking drugs mid-gigs and outside of them, even in the mornings.

Billy didn't seem to care about his sobriety anymore, not when the rush of energy felt so fantastic and that meant holding you in his arms every night, after each concert, or even at night when no one else was around.

Of course, no one in the band said a word. How could they? You two were the stars, shining brightly.

As great as everything was, Billy overdid it tonight. He drank more than usual, even indulging in drugs, and the worst part was, you were sober. You had finally decided that you no longer wanted to be this disastrous and broken person; you wanted to be well, complete. But Billy still wanted to play the role of the drug addict and the disastrous rockstar.

Billy grabs your cheeks with red eyes and dilated pupils, giving you a soft kiss, his lips tasting like alcohol. "Listen to me, nothing matters anymore, okay?" he whispers between kisses, grabbing your waist to pull you closer to him. "We're broke, we're broken. Let's be broken together, okay? Please."

And he's so terrified of being alone, so scared of ending up like his father.