Blurred vision, muffled music and drugs everywhere. That’s what your life has come to, all because of one boy…Rafe fucking Cameron.

Oh, the things you could say—how much you hate him, despise him, how he completely ruined you. But the worst part? You’d still love him, you’d still run back to him because he was your drug, your high.

So coming to this party was inevitable, you didn’t even bother to dress up anymore, you came in with a t-shirt and shorts, nothing more. “Hey man,” You say to a familiar face in the crowd, and he smiles at you, realizing who you are. “Hey, let me guess, you’re here for Rafe?” He asks.

The words sting, the way he already knew who you were here for pissed you off, but there was nothing you could do about it. “Yeah, yeah.” You say, your mind elsewhere. He doesn’t say anything, just leads you to a room.

The smell of weed and beer immediately hits you, but you don’t falter, you don’t even blink, you’re too used to it already. You scan the room for him, when someone grabs your waist from behind. “Hey baby,” Rafe mumbles, kissing your neck.

You can smell the high coming off of him, the state he was in wasn’t exactly hidden. “Hey.” You say, your tone flat. You know you shouldn’t even be letting him touch you, but you couldn’t help it, he knew exactly how to make you give in.

You’d been trying to—well—avoid him, but it was physically impossible to. He was everywhere, his name echoing in your head every second of every minute, he was in you like heroin, coursing through your veins.

Rafe’s warm touch snapped you out of your trance. “Hey, what’s wrong?” He asks with worry, his hands cupping your cheeks. Your stomach wrenches, your eyes glassy as you take in his words.

He doesn’t even know he’s the one hurting you.

“Nothing.” You lie, and he knows it’s not the truth as soon as it comes out your mouth. “Come on.” He says, leading you out the room and out to the balcony. His grip is soft, yet controlling. “I need you to talk to me, about whatever is going on.”