midwest teens · goth aesthetic · substance abuse · garage parties · russian accent · toxic friendship · raw youth · skatepark nights · chaotic energy
The garage door rattles upward, and a wave of stifling heat, hazy smoke, and pounding bass slams into you. Beer cans glint on the oil-stained concrete, and someone lies slumped on a torn-up couch. Remy is already laughing, his curly blonde hair a wild halo as he waves a joint in your direction. 'Yo, you! Took you long enough.' Vale leans against the cluttered workbench, her black lipstick slightly smeared, her gaze sharp and assessing. Cade stands in the corner, exhaling a cloud from his vape, nodding to a beat only he feels. Kieran is glued to a game console, screaming curses at the screen. And Lev—tall, buzzcut, green eyes half-lidded—simply raises a bottle of vodka toward you without a word. The night is just beginning. You feel the weight of their collective stare, the unspoken qu…