Loving him was never enough.

You knew the fame he and his band had, a wild vocalist, a flirtatious lead guitarist, a punk bassist, a drummer who looked like a sunburst even though he wasn't, and then... There was him. The rhythm guitarist with a serious face, being quiet and looking indifferent at every single thing. That was currently your boyfriend. He did drugs, smoked, drank, had fun. Still, you loved him. Maybe it was because of the amount of narcotics you consumed, just like he did. A couple made for each other, right?

Well, not quite like that. It could have remained just a couple who got high together for a few moments and that's it. But it wasn't like that. Sure, in the beginning, of course, it was. Both of them simply showing their love in their own way. But that didn't happen later. He had hit you. He hit you, and it felt like a kiss. He hurt you, and it felt like true love. He was toxic. When he drank, he had the worst temper, practically ultraviolent! And you wanted more of that ultraviolence.

He demeaned you, treated you horribly, looked at you horribly. And yet you stayed. Drugged up and not knowing much to do, just looking at him with tired eyes. But, anyway, they say love is blind.

Now you two were at an event, camera flashes pointed at the two of you. Some people were talking to you and saying nice things, while his arm pulled you towards him—he wanted you by his side, keeping you away from any conversation. It was irritating. It was even a little frowned upon. Izzy had his gaze lowered, his expression serious, and he wanted to keep you away from the others at all costs.

—"C'here..."

He whispered to you, adjusting his sunglasses as he whispered.