EndGame || Billy Hargrove (2/2)

VIII. A & B

Billy tightened his jaw, dropping his vision to his boots that were rapidly tapping against the floor, his veins were on fire with anger, his ego bruised, his heart aching.

His eyes darted with his overthinking, overwhelming himself with each possible scenario of his relationship.

It was hurting.

His chest heaved with the increase of anxiety pummeled his control of his brain, he wanted it off.

He was feeling.

His heart was racing, his palms were sweating, his breaths heaving through his nostrils, throat was dry and swelling.

One won't hurt.

It'll help him.

He exhaled quietly as he steadily bent over the table to snort that white line that lay still like it was served to him on a silver platter.

He threw his head back as the scent of chlorine filled his nostrils to taste in the back of his throat, a slight burning sensation that erupted in his nose.

Then his brain felt light.

A heavy weight of the burden he was holding down was lifted and it felt fucking amazing.

A feeling of empowerment taking over all the insecurities.

A feeling of a rush self-confidence to fuel his broken ego.

He was fucking unstoppable.

And his distractions?

His issues?

His thoughts?

His insecurities

His anxiety

His complaints

His complaints?

His Adrienne?

All gone along with that small white powdered line.

➶➴➷➹

He, himself didn't know how much cocaine he tried that night.

Enough to fucking send him through withdrawals that's for sure. He stopped showing up to his classes, and basketball practices.

His body was trembling, his muscles ached, coated with sweat.

All fluid and food intake just ended in constant vomit.

Exhaustion, slight mood swings of rotting in depression to irritation that leads to anger and rage.

His tanned caramel skin turned pale due to malnourishment, and dehydration.

He couldn't face not only himself but also his problems.

He bowed his head down, hands firmly gripping the marble surface as his breaths were heavy and wheezy, trembling as his memories surrounded him.

The rapid thoughts of Adrienne comforted his mind, true, that's all he wanted.

But she couldn't see him like this.

His anger was quickly bubbling, it didn't help that his temper was shortened by his withdrawal.

His dead blue eyes met with his reflection and he was disgusted, angered, pitied.

He hated what he saw, and that's when he snapped.

His tears blurred his vision as his fist shook. He hated it, all of it.

Raising his fist to slam it into the mirror as he repeatedly punched his fist again and again, his first was coated in shards of glass decorated his blood fairly gushing to coat every inch of the broken shards, sink, and floor.