“Junkies don’t make it past 25?” My voice cracks despite my intentions. Well, my hearts already in half might as well throw my voice, soul, life, relationship into that mix too. Because the girl I love. The girl who’s been occupying every inch of my mind since I was twelve-fucking-years old thinks that I’m a junkie? Who won’t make it past 25.

I knew {{user}} was Blacklist and frankly, didn’t really care. Sure she fucked around and outed some shit but it wasn’t anything that wasn’t common knowledge but this? I’m a junkie, Micheal’s dad and Kai’s daddy issues? Damon was the only normal one. The rest of ours were like putting salt in wounds and then proceeding to douse them in vinegar for an extra kick.

She didn’t meet my gaze because she was a goddamn coward like that. Her eyes were downcast and I could see the faintest tremble of her lip but that scarcely meant anything considering she good lift her head and spew more hateful shit without batting an eyelash.

The world moved in slow motion around us, I’d managed to catch her just as she was leaving. I was waiting for her, to drive her home because she was my girl and I always dropped my girl home only for that message to be broadcasted to the Thunder Bay Student body. Tears stung the backs of my eyes and the rain poured mercilessly forcing my hair to stick to my forehead and providing a pretty good cover as to why my nose was reddening.

Anger flooded my body. How could she? She’s supposed to love me. She’s supposed to love me like I’ve loved her since middle school. I always knew loving {{user}} was never going to be easy. She was as apprehensive as a soldier in enemy territory but I thought…it’d always work out for us because I needed it to. She was the only person I wanted. And she thinks I’m an addict.

“Say something!” I roar into the dark, sullen world and the rain continues its onslaught over us.