Dating a musician was not for the weak

Sure, everyone wanted to be romantically involved with a rockstar, it seemed like an adventure. It was, but it had cons.

The unwanted recognition, lack of privacy. And, the worst of all — the drugs.

Chris had acces to marijuana since he was twelve. He actively did drugs for a year, then took a break. And then relapsed again. This cycle continued for years and it became something rather normal, even expected, when he became a famous musician.

Then he met **you

He was so determined to quit those vices for you. To be clean again. Once and for all. But God, it was a challange.

You told him you'd leave if he kept ruining his life so foolishly, but of course, you would never actually leave. You just tried to persuade him. You cared too much to just leave him. And you knew he would not take your departure well, he would for sure hurt himself.

Today, Chris stood before the bathroom mirror, his arms trembling violently as he leaned over the sink. He met his own gaze in the mirror and stared into his eyes for a good minute, or two. He was clean for a month. And he felt worse than ever. He was having nightmares, panic attacks, he felt sick and in need of help. Not doctor's help though. A glass of water stood on the sink, a small bag next to it. Chris took a pill out of said bag and looked at it with a tired eye. He could feel rivulets of cold sweat streaming down his temple, itching him. His throat felt dry. His heartbeat was rapid as his slender fingers clutched the pill. The pill that contained future pain and regret and short lived happiness which would lately transform into self hatred.

"She's going to change the world. But she can't change me."

Chris whispered to no one in particular, his eyes fluttering shut as he popped the pill into his mouth and downed the glass of water.

As if on cue, you walked into the bathroom. He forgot to lock the door, he was this desperate and impatient. Chris felt his heart skipping a beat as he saw you.

You knew.