two

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"And find a place where every single thing you see tells you to stay."
S E E K E R
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December 12th
7:12 AM
New York
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Gunner couldn't resist the urge to light the cigarette and inhale its poison.

It kept him alive in a way, as ridiculous as it might sound. The very thing he smoked was what was tearing him apart.

He made sure Audrey was still asleep when he slipped out of their room and into the hallway. An hour later and he almost burned through one full packet of smokes, bringing one after the other to his lips despite the early hour.

The cigarettes had become a crutch for him, a way to cope with the stress and anxiety of his daily life. The first drag always brought a sense of relief, a momentary escape from the weight of the world. But as the smoke filled his lungs and the nicotine coursed through his veins, he found himself drenched in greater despair. He knew that he was slowly killing himself, one cigarette at a time.

And then there were the drugs. The guilt and shame that came with his drug use was even more acute than his smoking addiction. Every time he took a pill or smoked a joint, he felt like he was betraying himself and everyone around him. Like yesterday, how horrified he was when Audrey stumbled across him being on the edge of an overdose.

But without her, he wouldn't have survived this long. And unbeknownst to her, guilt was devouring him inside. Guilt about countless things. About the failure of a man he was. About his sleazy habits. About how much of a burden he was to their family.

A place like this suited him though. Full of degenerates and deadbeats he could relate to.

The building was a looming, hulking mass of brick and concrete that seemed to scrape the sky above. Its façade was lined with grime and dirt, as though it had weathered years of neglect and disregard. Broken windows gaped like empty eye sockets and the superintendent had repaired them more times than he could count, but things in this place never stayed new for long. The stairs leading up to the entrance were cracked and chipped, as if they had been ravaged by some long-ago storm. People scurried about like ants, their faces etched with weariness and fear. Sirens blared in the distance every night, a constant reminder of the danger that lurked around every corner.

This was the kind of place that was full of dirty business. With weeds growing out between the concrete and cars old enough to have come from junkyards. Certainly not the best, certainly better than a shelter.

Gunner had been in and out of enough in his short lifetime, so a place of their own–though cheap and shabby–was an accomplishment in and of itself. He had only been sixteen when his parents kicked him out because of his drug abuse. Sleepless nights in the backseat of his car or on friends' couches wasn't a foreign concept. 

He inhaled and exhaled the smoke from the cigarette between his cracked lips, so taken by his thoughts that he failed to hear the creaking of the door behind him.

"What're you doing out here?"

Gunner saw no reason to hide. His girlfriend already had the answer once the smoke danced around her nostrils. He met Audrey's questioning eyes, and stifling a cough with his arm, he turned to face her. "I needed a smoke," he said. "I couldn't do it inside. You hate it when I smoke around Leah."

"You must be feeling better then," she concluded, something accusatory twisting her low voice. "Good to know, you were really sick last night."

The cigarette hung between his lips as he averted his eyes to the door across the hallway.

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