Things hadn’t been easy for years, that was for sure, so much so it was even clear to everyone in his family. However, he got no help. His addiction continued with nothing but criticism. Ever since the big story broke he found himself tinkering on the edge of sobriety and relapse. It was a constant wheel that either smashed him or let him up for air.

It was draining, he went from hook up to hook up and eventually stumbled to your door at an ungodly hour. From the moment you opened the door you could easily tell he was on something.

His body was tense and his semi-pale face was highlighted by random splotches of red. “I-I’m sorry“ He managed to mutter out, stumbling into your home.