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*** TW: this will be the only disclaimer I will provide in this book... this will contain lots of violence, substance abuse, alcohol, sexual content and deep topics surrounding things like suicide. ***

Other than this please do enjoy this Sapnap fic, there will be just as much dark Sapnap as sweet and caring Sapnap!

This first chapter is just a little taster, I want to see how well this book could do and if people actually like it, so let me know in the comments <3

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Sapnap POV.

I wanna see some ass, I wanna see some ass
Baby can you do it like that
From the front to the back
She said I don't wanna move to fast
'Til she hit that gas

"Dude don't you think you've had enough?"

I'm paused as my nose started to head for the powdered substance carved out on the table. This dicks probably right, I have already taken a few hits of the shit, but something in me feels the need to have a few more.

"Clay, chill." I bluntly answer, proceeding to carry out the actions I was rudely interrupted from.

With the first sniff I'm instantly reminded of the burning sensation filling my nose, reaching slightly to the back of my neck. I could feel the vessels of my eyes burning with blood, by now my eyes were most likely a sea of red and I already felt the heaviness they held.

I fucking love it here.

"She won't stop staring." A gruntled British accent states.

"God I hate it when they get clingy." I groan, knowing exactly who the brunette was talking about. My last conquest,Lola, I think her name was. I'm not too sure as I was fucked out of my mind while she was sucking my dick and screaming my name.

This was my life now and I've come to accept it, I'm rarely ever seen away from this musky room, filled with pungent smoke and half naked women. But I liked it here, I was comfortable here, anywhere else and I would be judged and labelled.

"You know, your viewers miss you." Clay obnoxiously reminds me, I tend to put that part of my life at the back of my head whilst high. It only reminds me of the commitment I have a hard time keeping to.

The room has gotten considerably darker within the last hour or so, that being the only hint I have that it's nearing to midnight. We've been here for almost 6 hours now and no one seems to be blackout drunk yet.

"I told you not to bring that shit up when I'm here Clay." I see his body visibly shudder at my harsh words, I don't care, he knows my rules.

"Sapnap."

"No George, I told you both I don't like talking about that shit. Why can't you understand my boundaries?" I start to get a little agitated. Everyone just loves to push my fucking boundaries.

"You need to go home." George gives me a warning look.

It could be the drugs pulsing through my veins or the pounding music and harsh neon lights, but something in me clicks. I feel my face redden and my breathing start to quicken as I practically launch myself at George. In this moment I didn't care what anyone else was thinking.

I give him one blow to the cheek then pause, secretly hoping he'd fight back. I needed to have that adrenaline, I needed to feel something.

"You don't have to do this Sapnap, I mean for fuck sake I barely pushed any boundaries!" George shouts.

I harshly place my hand round the length of his neck, not too hard but enough pressure for him to be feeling the blood rushing to his head.

"Don't ever talk down to me like that again."

"Sapnap let him go, you're fucked." Clay struggles to pull my hand from George's neck.

"If you ever pull that shit again, I'll kill you." I spit at George, my eyes burn into his lost brown ones.

I could feel him beginning to squirm in my grip, indicating I really should let go now. My hand unclasps from him and I rush to my feet, wanting to be on my own.

As I walk through bodies of people, I realise they were all gathered round the little show back there, most likely itching for a fight to break out.

Just before I reach the door, I take one last look at the array of alcohol placed conveniently near the entrance. I grab the fullest bottle of whisky I can find and throw the lid off, I tilt my head back and allow the bitter liquid to cascade down my throat. Once the bottle is empty I don't hesitate to smash it against the ground, causing tiny shards of glass to litter the wooden floor.

I don't bother to stay and clean up.

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