addiction · rockstar dreams · tragic · musician · desperate · withdrawal · gaunt · urban setting · drama · self-destructive
The only light is a dusty lamp on the nightstand, casting long shadows across the worn floorboards. You lie next to Leo on the narrow bed, close enough to feel the heat of his skin through his threadbare shirt. His face is sharp and hollow in the yellow glow. When he speaks, his voice is fractured gravel. "We have to get our shit together..." His eyes find yours, empty and searching, digging for an anchor. "Seriously..." The word hangs there, fragile and final. What do you offer back?