* YOU MAKE ME WANNA DIE

[EZRA SKYLAR GARROW]

I'LL NEVER BE GOOD ENOUGH`

Ezra was pissed. Teeth gnashing, knuckle popping pissed. He barely refrained himself from screaming out expletives into the bitingly cold autumn air. He let his eyes travel back towards his cell phone screen once again, knowing it was a mistake even while he was doing it. The message still sat that unperturbed 'Dude I cnt make the run rght now, tmrw mybe.' The grammar alone was atrocious, but it was expected of a drug dealer. True, he had his last hit not too long ago, but it was the principle of the thing, and depending on what time tomorrow he might be in trouble for a bit. He was seriously considering whether or not to slug the guy in the face when he saw him next. Fists were stiff with rage at his thoughts, and he glared at the passerby on the street, hoping one of them would try to start something, but apparently luck wasn't with him as everyone passed him by without a second glance. He tried calming himself, letting out a hiss off breath for a few seconds.

He came to the conclusion that he needed a drink, a stiff one at that. He knew of a bar a few streets over, some of the kids at his college went there a lot, and he had even tagged along a few times. It definitely wasn't worth a five star rating, but they served alcohol and never looked too hard at his fake ID. Of course, his fake ID was very nicely made, he had forked out a small fortune for it, nobody really gave him any trouble. Shoving fists in the pockets of his green army styled jacket, he hunched his shoulders and set off walking, not bothering to move out of the way of other travelers, earning him a few rude remarks, but he ignored them with a practiced air. As he walked to wheels of his mind churned traveling from exactly how much heroin he had left, and if he could stretch it out to last till he saw his dealer next. He felt panic at the pit of his stomach as he entertained the idea that he didn't have enough. He dismissed it immediately and grasped at straws until he found something else to think about. He struggled for a few moments, and even stumbled slightly as he walked, so out of it that he even apologized to the woman he bumped into with a curt 'sorry.' He eventually got the bright idea to think of his little sister Cecily. Only twelve and the most adorable child he had ever come across. Actually, the only adorable child he had ever come across. All copper colored hair and big blue eyes, she could always make him smile - even if her hands were sticky with candy, or she asked him obnoxious questions. This wasn't a smart route to go down though, as he instantly realized with a pang to his gut that he wasn't allowed to see her for the time being. Until he sorted out his 'shameful behavior' his father had worded it. He was instantly filled with anger once more. All he was feeling was anger lately.

With a thankful growl the bar came into sight, and he shoved at the door roughly, sliding past a drunk looking couple and making his way towards a vacant bar stool. He sat sullenly for a few minutes, looking like a kid who hadn't got his way. Eventually though, the bartender made their way over and he growled out, "house vodka on the rocks." His voice was rough, like what you'd imagine pavement to sound like, and he cleared his throat after he spoke, exchanging money for alcohol as the bartender returned with his drink. He shook his head groggily, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes, breathing out harshly once more before grabbing at the glass containing his drink. "Fuck it." He mumbled to himself, before allowing some of the alcohol to hit the back of his throat, letting lips curl only slightly as the harsh flavor lingered over his senses.

TAGGED:

[/b] Verity!
NOTES:[/b] He's grumpy...
WORD COUNT:[/b] 688
LYRICS:[/b] Make Me Wanna Die; The Pretty Reckless[/size][/blockquote][/blockquote][/blockquote][/justify]

[VERITY GRACE JONES]

hands were clawing at her thighs, his lips on her neck. fast, hot and in a hurry, he was in charge. his other hand held her down as she struggled to break free.

"get off of me," she screamed.

finally, it seemed like he understood and backed off enough for verity to wiggle her way out and started to run. she couldn't see what was ahead of her. the streetlights hadn't come on yet, and she was running in the dark. falling, tripping, and bumping into people, no apologies passed from verity's lips. she just kept on running. she wanted to get as far away from that man as she could.

verity had just been walking down the street when she was suddenly pulled into a van by two guys. with no time to process what was happening, she was pushed into the arms of a man she'd never seen before. in all of her nineteen years, this had never happened to her. she had no idea how to react. shock set in and her body just froze. it had taken at least ten minutes for verity to get control of her body again, and push the man off of her.

and now she was running. verity wasn't sure where she was going but she knew that she wanted to get as far away from that man as she could.

she was out of breath. her lungs felt like they were going to explode and she was coughing. smoking as much as verity did and running do not mix. her chest rose and fell hard and her stomach started to turn. she could feel something come up her throat and she tried to stop it by swallowing hard.

but it didn't work.

everything came up anyway, and as verity puked into a bush on the side of the sidewalk, the people walking by only turned up their noses at her. they probably thought she was some kind of junkie. verity wasn't but it wasn't like anyone was going to stop and ask her if she was okay or anything. people didn't care nowadays. they only cared about themselves. and that was why verity didn't care about them either. she had learned long ago to only care about herself.

after her stomach was empty, verity stood, her body shaking. tears filled her eyes and she wiped her mouth the best she could with the back of her hand. then verity wrapped her arms around herself and continued walking.

"dammit," she said angerly. her jacket had been left in that man's van.

at the first door she reached, verity opened it eagerly and stepped inside. suddenly she realized she was at perry's, a bar that she frequented quite often. tears were still streaming down her face as she sat at a bar stool.

"something to warm me up, please," verity ordered once she waved the bartender down, "i don't care what."

once the bartender walked away, verity wiped her eyes, trying to stop crying. she looked at the door, hoping that the man wouldn't walk in. she was terrified and upset and was feeling quite numb. hopefully some liquor would help her regain feeling.

words - 520
outfit - here.
notes - (:

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[EZRA SKYLAR GARROW]

I'LL NEVER BE GOOD ENOUGH`

Ezra sipped at his drink, his dark mood ebbing as the alcohol began to nip away at his senses. Fingers ranged through his hair, his skin prickling from cold as patrons entered and left the bar, bringing a gust of cold air along with them. He pulled the hood of his sweatshirt up and over his head, not really caring if he was being rude or not. Nobody seemed to care regardless. Teeth grazed his bottom lip as fingers drummed against the counter. He raised the glass once more, but frowned when he found it empty. He signaled to order another drink, deciding to chew on a vodka-soaked ice cube in the meantime. Eyes focused on the small television set, though he wasn't really paying attention to the broadcasters vapid remarks. Once again he handed over money to the bartender, and his eyes turned to the drink, in favor of the bulky men playing football. He was never one for sports. A gust of wind spread across his back and Ezra took this to be another person to enter the bar; as the three people who were currently there hadn't left their seats. He heard shifting weight as the person sat a couple stools to his left. Ezra took no notice, and went to pick up his glass to take another sip when he heard sniffling. Curiosity got the better of him and his eyes shifted towards the newcomer, and was startled with the sight.

A tangle of long, platinum blond hair, darkly colored in eyes; a lithe, thin body that was scantily clad. He only knew of one person who looked like that ever; Verity. He had first met her a couple months ago, not too long after he had moved to Boston. They ran around the same crowds, the kind that take drugs and drink excessively. They had hooked up, or, almost hooked up. They got interrupted by a police raid at a party around a month ago, and he had only bumped into her once since, where she gave him the cold shoulder. He had found her intriguing, or, her behavior intriguing. He wasn't sure which yet, but this was the first time he was legitimately interested in a girls. Sans when he was fifteen and fell in love with his classmate Samantha Jenkins, who then curb-stomped his poor little adolescent heart. He peered at Verity from his peripheral vision as she ordered her drink, noticing a few stray tears adorning her face, a barely there tee shirt covered her, and his eyes fell on a middle aged man who was eying her up. He glared at the stranger with disgust, and enough malice to make him avert his gaze.

Feeling a protectiveness well up in his chest that he usually only felt for his sister, he frowned. His fingers twitched as he tried to sort out what to do with his slightly inebriated mind. He saw goosebumps rise against her skin though, and the slight shake of her thin limbs made up his mind for him. He slid his drink over the empty two stools, and stood to follow. His lean frame bowed back as he slipped off the army styled canvas jacket, walking toward the slim girl and lowering it onto her shoulders as he sat down next to her and took another sip of his drink, as if he were unperturbed with the whole situation. "You know, alcohol doesn't actually warm you up, it just gives you the illusion. It can actually make you colder, it's why giving people trapped in snow brandy is stupid as all hell." He informed her. He was trying to be nice, but apparently it was so foreign to him that he just came across as an awkward douche bag. He really was attempting to be personable though, and tried to remedy his blunder by asking, in what he thought was a soothing voice, "are you okay?" Making sure the coat was firmly tucked around her frame as he did so.

TAGGED:

[/b] Verity!
NOTES:[/b] I own those socks!
WORD COUNT:[/b] 672
LYRICS:[/b] Make Me Wanna Die; The Pretty Reckless[/size][/blockquote][/blockquote][/blockquote][/justify]

[VERITY GRACE JONES]

tears were still streaming down verity's face. she couldn't stop them from coming, no matter what she did. crying was a very rare occasion for verity. she couldn't even remember the last time she cried. and yet, here she was, crying like a baby because some guys pulled her into a van and tried to do god-knows-what.

the bartender handed her some brown liquid in a glass and verity thanked him before wiping her eyes again. trying her hardest to not spill on herself with her shaking hands, verity took a slow sip. she put the glass down gently, and tried not to cough as the liquid burned her throat. usually verity wasn't so accustomed to cough when taking sips of liquor, but tonight was different. she felt like she had no control over her emotions, her body, her mind. everything felt like it was spinning and there was nothing verity could do to stop it.

verity could feel someone staring at her, so she whipped around to see who it was. some old man who just walked into the bar was smiling, looking her up and down. 'ugh,' verity thought as she glared at the man and turned back around. realizing her dress was riding up, she reached down to pull it up.

still shivering, verity took another sip of her drink, waiting for it to start to warm her up. she didn't have to wait long to warm up, because a jacket was placed over her shoulders. she looked up, expecting it to be some creepy guy hovering over her, but instead she saw ezra. she was fond of the fellow, so she smiled at him and pulled the jacket closer to herself. her body stopped shivering so severely, and verity took another drink from her glass. she still didn't know what the liquid was, but at this point she really didn't care.

verity nodded her head lightly as ezra told her some random fact about alcohol. she didn't really care, but she thought it was nice that he came over to talk to her. verity took another sip of her drink, and then pulled the jacket even closer. it was now that she realized she was no longer crying. 'i must look like a mess though,' verity thought, and it was true. her eyeliner was smeared down her cheeks and her eyes were red and puffy. she was starting to have bruises show up on her wrists where the man had held her down.

but verity chose not to think about that right now. she was with ezra now. he's a guy, and in verity's mind, a guy meant protection. so if that guy from the van came after her, verity thought that ezra could protect her and that made verity feel safe and warm.

the tears threatened to come back once ezra asked if she was okay. her mind automatically went back to the incident in the van. she could feel the man's hot breath on her face, his hands on his wrist, the laughter in the background. verity shook her head as hard as she could, trying to destroy the images. "no, i'm not really okay." verity bit her lip. "just before i came in here, some guy... well, a few guys pulled me into a van and they tried to...." verity bit her lip again, almost hard enough to draw blood. "well, i got away and now i'm here. i just don't know what to do." suddenly, she couldn't control a tear from escaping and one slowly rolled down her cheek as verity took another sip of her drink.

words - 599
outfit - here.
notes - omg, so jealous. i want those socks so bad.

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