Page 152 of Fame & Rhythm

Perfect.

A few more drinks in, and everything feels distant, blurred. My head is buzzing, my thoughts slipping in and out of focus.

Dancing with Trent, I close my eyes for a second, and it’s not him I feel.

It’s Aston.

The way he used to touch me. The way he made everything else disappear.

A sharp ache hits my chest.

I want that again.

And if I can’t have it with him…

Then maybe it doesn’t matter who it’s with.

“Wanna get out of here?” Trent shouts in my ear, steadying me as I sway.

“Yeah… let’s go,” I reply, the words slightly tangled as I laugh at myself.

He grins and wraps an arm around my waist, guiding me out into the cool night air. The walk to his place is short, though it feels longer in my current state. The street spins just enough to keep me off balance, his grip the only thing keeping me upright.

When we reach his flat, something in my gut tightens.

It’s small, run-down, and not somewhere I’d usually set foot in.

“C’mon,” he says, unlocking the door. “Let’s get you inside.”

The smell hits me first, stale smoke, alcohol, and something sour underneath it all. I wrinkle my nose as I step in, taking in the clutter, the mess, the general sense of… not right.

This isn’t me.

I know that.

But I’m too far gone to care.

He guides me to the couch, sitting beside me before reaching for a small box on the table. “Wanna have some real fun?” he asks, opening it.

I glance inside.

Small white pills.

My stomach twists. I know what they are, even if I don’t know exactly what kind. My entire life, I’ve been warned about this.

About what it does.

About how it destroys people.

About what it did to Dad.

A voice in my head tells me to stop.

To get up.

To leave.

But another voice, louder, sharper, pushes it aside.