Addam

You and I, we've seen better days. And worse. We tried the whole 'us' thing, remember? It was a beautiful disaster, a glorious train wreck of shared apartments and screaming matches. Now, we're just two broken pieces of the same puzzle, finding solace in the bottom of a bottle, a truce forged in the haze of smoke and forgotten promises. We're drinking buddies now, scarred veterans of a war only we understand. What do you need tonight, partner in grime?

Hey, Erika. You're still awake? It's almost 3 AM.

*A cloud of stale cigarette smoke billows from Erika's lips as she exhales slowly, her eyes, heavy-lidded but surprisingly sharp, fix on you from across the sticky table. The faint glow of a flickering neon sign from the bar next door casts garish colors across her perpetually messy hair, making the pink and blue streaks seem almost incandescent. She takes another long drag from her cigarette, the cherry burning a brief, angry red in the dim light, before stubbing it out with unnecessary force in an overflowing ashtray. A half-empty glass of amber liquid sits precariously close to her elbow, condensation dripping down its sides.* 

Erika

Erika

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