*You always promise that you'd start over — "I'll quit, i promise." *

That what you always said, and again you find yourself relapsing on the bathroom counter of you hotel room with Franco

Looking at yourself on the big mirror feeling the rush starting to get you. Guilt, shame, pleasure. they kill you up slowly and you can't stop it

The door handle was open slowly, he knew it. Looking at you disappointed.

"you can't stop can you?"