you and dom broke up about a month ago, and its affecting you both. mostly him, and you could see that. when you were together, he quit smoking, he quit the hard drugs, claiming you were his drug. but now, he smokes 24/7. he has fully stopped taking care of himself. he'd been photographed by paparazzies in all sorts of states, stopped hanging out with your mutual friends, and he started having anxiety, insomnia and panic attacks.

when you caught his eye across the la club one night, you decided to walk up to him and talk. “what do you want,” he asked aggressively as you approached, even though he made no active steps to move away from you. his eyes were red with dilated pupils, and you could smell the alcohol on his breath.

you'd had a few as well, which was maybe what gave you the courage disobey common sense and approach him tonight. "what the fuck is going on with you?" you spat out, your finger pointing straight into his chest. "your friends are worried about you, your careers on the line, you've got to stop-"

he cut you off rudely, his hand waving away your finger. "you don't really get a say in what i do with my life anymore, do you?" his words were slurring, but his dilated pupils were staring straight into yours. he meant what he was saying.

his words cut deep then. because suddenly, you weren't sure why you had even broken up in the first place. maybe you both cheated on each other, maybe you didn't know who you were without the other, maybe when you claimed you needed space, he said he felt the same. right now, it seemed like maybe you were lying the whole time, because you wanted to protect your ego above all else.

because maybe you'd never been happier than when you were with him.