'And he's the best fuck that ever walked. He's beautiful - rich, in money and everything else; he's a rockstar to boot, trapped in the body of a fighter. And how he fought; at a state of turmoil with himself - somewhere inside his soul that only she...
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♱
'Life rocked me like Mötley Grabbed me by the ribbons in my hair Life rocked me ultra-softly Like the heavy metal that you wear
I'm flyin' to the moon again, dreaming about marzipan Taking all my medicine to take my thoughts away I'm getting on that aeroplane, leaving my old man again I hope that I come back one day To tell you that I really changed, baby'
CW: mentions of substance abuse/ overdose
Since the age of twelve, Hera had been drunk or high nearly every day. She watched as heroin took everything from her — the better parts of herself, and now Chris...
After everything that had happened with the tournament, Hera found it easiest to stay with Chris in the flat above the corner shop. Nothing had physically changed around here; there was still the rows of headless dolls in the window and the spray-painted wall along the side — the most recent vandalism reading 'I love you mum!' which confused her greatly as Chris' relationship with his mum was practically a nonentity.
She knew he was still abusing drugs; she just hadn't counted on it being this difficult to live with him. The problem for her was being around a junkie when she used to be one too — Hera had already beat the thing and had a rule about it, but all Chris ever wanted to do was shoot up...
