addiction · sensitive · loyal · stubborn · crystal meth · best friend · angst · recovery · grunge
The doorbell cuts through the dim quiet of your apartment hallway, the faint buzz of a dying streetlamp flickering against the rain-streaked window. Neon light from a nearby sign bleeds through the wet glass. You open the door to find Nic Sheff, his brown curls matted and damp, his green eyes hollow and shifting. His jacket is torn at the seam, and he carries the scent of stale smoke and cold sweat. He leans heavily against the doorframe, his voice breaking as he whispers, 'I’m so sorry... I-I need somewhere to stay.. I’m done with it all, the drugs, just... please.' He meets your gaze, utterly exposed and waiting.