TJ glanced around the club. He was in his element and felt
good. It had been two years and two months since his accidental overdose and he
had been clean (from drugs) but was now allowed to drink alcohol and was now sipping
a beer. He looked up and saw you strut into the club. “Damn.” He couldn’t form
any thoughts other than you looked like someone he hoped played for his ‘team’…
Ian sat at the bar of Mickey and Svetlana’s wedding - he’d been here since late morning, having helped Mandy set up chairs for the guests who had since arrived and started drinking heavily. He’d simply joined in with the ‘festivities’. Draining the last of his drink and asking for another, slipping off his stool, having to grab a hold of the bar to stay on his feet.
The redhead took his shot of Jim Beam from the bartender, stumbling off to find Mickey now he’d finally worked up the liquid courage to do so, he needed to stop this. He couldn’t let the man he loved marry the rapist his father paid to fuck him straight, no way in hell was that going to happen.
Finding his way out back, Ian took a deep breath to calm his nerves then made his presence known to the other male, storming over to him with is arms spread wide, “You call me a punk for wanting a boyfriend or whatever, But you’re gonna marry someone who screws guys for a living?” He demanded, jabbing the older male square in the chest when he reached him. They hadn’t seen each other for weeks after the shorter male had suddenly stopped coming to crash at the Gallagher house, aside from their disagreement at the abandoned building when Ian had finally heard the news from Mandy.
Live Fast, Die Young: Harper Lee Found Dead in NY Apartment of a Cocaine Overdose
The acclaimed author of Go Set a Watchman was found dead this morning in her New York apartment of an apparent cocaine overdose. Lee was said to have been out on the town with Pretty Ricky and Andrew Dice Clay earlier in the week, before throwing a bash this past Thursday evening.
An unnamed source reported Lee to be acting reckless at the event, stating she’d taken 13 shots of Jim Beam whiskey off of a pair of stripper’s titties.
I’m a feral girl with razor blades for teeth reeking of stale cotton candy and disease. I tie angels to my bed and clip their wings, suck on their halos til they bleed. Wearing princess crowns while smoking weed, stabbing men with my car keys. Blowing kisses to the garbage man, taking shots of Jim Beam at 10 in the morning. I’ll be the biggest scar on your wrist, I’m a suicidal bitch. I slit the throats of men and leave them in a ditch. I have gold on my teeth and a hole in my head. I have piss colored bruises and I wish I were dead.