❝In which a celebrity dials a random number in hope of finding one last thing to make him smile before he commits suicide at the end of the month.❞
"I'm going to commit suicide in one months time."
"I think you have the wrong number."
"It can't be t...
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Shane had not been to a party in a very long time.
He couldn't exactly say that he had missed the burning feeling of the alcohol that sank down his throat and filled the emptiness in his lungs. His mind was in a state of mourning, grieving for the life that may as well be dead. His head was in an emotionless state, not happy but not sad enough to brings tears to his eyes. Yet.
At some point, the pounding beat that made the bones break out of his skin had faded. Shane wasn't entirely sure where he was but the effects of the alcohol must have worn off because the emotions that had been washed away by the hard liquor had come back to hit him at full pelt.
He sat on a park bench, dropping the bottle of intoxicating liquid to his feet with a satisfying smash. His body was no longer numb enough to be senseless. He felt the shards of glass pierce the skin around his ankles. He had not been able to control the splinters of glass that shattered on the ground his feet rested on.
The alcohol pooled around his feet.
He began to cry, shoulders heaving with the weight of the emotions that they were forced to bear.
His sobs called out to the twinkling stars that lay strung out above him.
Shane cursed them for being so damn bright.
He continued to serenade the silence with his woeful tune, tears escaping his eyes as fast as the stars blinked out of existence. Swallowed by the rising sun.
