Strangers with benefits "fuck off"

prologue

1 week.

it has been one week without anyone or anything, no food, no people, no home. nothing but a little money in my pocket and chapped lips...
I watch from the sidewalk as cars hum by. also trying to figure out the pattern of the street lights.

30 seconds green
10 seconds yellow
and 1 minute and 30 seconds of red

I've been walking the streets at night, trying my best not to call attention to myself. god only knows what I look like; tattered clothes bruises all over my body, and disheveled hair, along with deep purple bags under my bloodshot eyes.

Looking down at my crisscrossed legs, I begin to stroke my fingers across a large bruise that had been left on the side of my knee. I pick my self up of the sidewalk and begin to walk myself to Specs, a local liquor store, with the few dollars that I had left in my pocket. if I'm going to spend my money might as well spend it right, right? I smirk to myself, knowing I'm going to live like this a long while. I actually like being alone, not having to talk to anyone, not feeling obligated to make anyone happy but myself.

I walk out of Specs with a clear glass bottle of Patrón in one hand and a bottle of Jack Daniels in the other. when I round the corner of the store I shove the Patrón in my small tan bag and toss it back over my shoulder.
The air is moist, making my skin sticky and causing my hair to pop up all over the place. Not that it matters though.

Unscrewing the cap of the whiskey, I take two huge swigs; making my face twist in the process. I settle my self down on an abandoned street curb and throw my bag onto my lap. Rummaging through my small bag, I fixate my hand on a small thick paper box, and pull it out along with a lighter. Flipping the top open I pull out my last lucky and light the tip.

Might as well be staring down the barrel of a gun. Nothing left but 49¢ in my pocket and and just enough common sense to stay under the radar. I honestly don't mind living like this. I would take living like this any day rather then be with my parents.

"Bastards." I whisper to myself, picking at the hem of my shorts.
I take one last puff of my lucky and throw it to the ground. Resulting in me stomping on the bud and wishing I had another one.
The wind has picked up now, along with the ruffling of the trees that surround me. I pick up the whiskey one last time, sighing to my self as I put the rim of the cold glass to my lips.

"What, no sharing?" A voice speaks from behind me.

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((THERE WILL BE MORE SOON I PROMISE 💘 IM JUST TRYING TO GET THINGS IN ORDER PLEASE SHARE WITH YOUR FRIENDS OMF I LOVE YALL SO MUCH ☺️😍))