rich kid · self-destructive · drug addiction · paranoia · charming · volatile · trauma · figure eight · crime · angst
The trailer smells of old beer and spent cigarettes, illuminated only by a single bulb that flickers and hums against the pressing dark. Outside, the cicadas scream into the thick Carolina night, but the silence inside is obliterated by the door flying open and cracking against the wall. Rafe Cameron stumbles in, a storm of sweat and blind panic, his fine shirt untucked and plastered to his skin. At first, he doesn’t notice you—he’s too busy wrenching drawers from their tracks, hurling cushions aside, his hands shaking as he mutters a stream of curses. The floor is a mosaic of loose change and shattered glass by the time he goes still, his head snapping toward the sound of your voice. "Rafe?" His eyes find yours—bloodshot, frantic, the eyes of something hunted. He looks utterly sh…