Trigger Warning: Drugs, language, suicidal slurs, violence.
...
John picked up the needle, searching for a vein. He injected the needle and immediately felt relief. He looked back up at where AGT was playing on TV. He set his head back against the couch, feeling the soft carpet with his fingertips. He giggled. His head felt a bit fuzzy. It was a familiar feeling now, since he'd been getting high for a couple of weeks now.
He giggled at the fuzziness. "Woah, dude..." He pointed at the TV, seemingly talking to the person singing. "You, you suck, man. Singing isn' not--s'not--singing is not your thing." He giggled at his slip ups.
When the feeling started to wear off, he shot up again.
He didn't hear the front door open. Or hear the footsteps on the stairs. But the sharp gasp from the side of the room made him jump. Needle in hand, John waved with a giggle, "Hey, Alex."
"What the fuck are you doing?!" Alex yelled. He stepped toward John.
"Wai', wait." John held up his hand, sticking the needle in his arm. He sighed.
"What the fuck?! I fucking swear to--"
John burst into giggles, "Hol' up, Lex. That a new shirt, 'cuz you be lookin good tonight."
The incorrect grammar mixed with the situation sent Alex off the edge. He grabbed John by the hair, pulling him up, and sending John into a screaming fit. "You told me you weren't stealing from me!" John kicked and clawed at Alex. "What the fuck?!" Alex yelled, "How long have you been on this shit?!"
John's teeth sunk into Alex's arm, causing Alex to release his grip. He shoved John backward, the TV knocking over. They both were bleeding now. "Fuckin' worthless piece of shit," Alex gave a kick to John's gut, "Kill yourself for all I care."
...
When John walked down the next morning in a pink dress with his hair pulled up in pigtails, it didn't lessen Alex's anger.
Alex slammed his coffee mug on the table, before sitting down. "Sit," he commanded John.
John sat down.
"Let's make this simple. Did you steal from me the night I went out with Thomas? And then I asked you about it that morning."
"Yessir." John mumbled, staring at the ground.
"Look at me when I'm talking to you, John Laurens." Alex snapped. John looked up. "So, not only did you steal from me, but then you lied about it. To my face."
"Yessir."
"We speak up when we talk!"
"Yessir." John spoke up.
"So every time I've been asking if you're borrowing money, and you tell me no, you've been lying? Correct?" John didn't answer. "Correct?!" Alex roared.
"Yessir."
"Get out." Alex exhaled. John turned to walk upstairs. "No, Laurens, get out. Out. Completely out." Alex said.
"Wait, what? No, no, no, Alex. I'm sorry! I really am! I won't do it again--"
"Get out, Laurens! Leave this house! Get out of my fucking life!" Alex raised his voice.
"No, no, please! I promise I'll be good!" John begged, tears welling in his eyes.
"Get out of my fuckin house before I call the fuckin cops!" Alex yelled, standing up. John choked on a sob before running out. Alex breathed heavily. He sat back down and downed his coffee, "After everything I've done for him, he steals from me."
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Trust Fund
FanfictionThe thought of having a Sugar Daddy was utterly humiliating for John. And the fact that it was one of the richest and cockiest politicians in the world, didn't help his case. At least Mr Hamilton was hot. Just because I write it doesn't mean it's ne...
