𝙀𝙮𝙚𝙨 𝙊𝙣 𝙈𝙚 - 𝘽𝙪𝙘𝙠𝙮 𝘽𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙚𝙨 𝙓 𝙊𝘾

𝘿𝘼𝙔 𝙊𝙉𝙀

A/N: Here's this finally UP! Enjoy and make sure to comment a bunch and vote! This is a new fic and support is always appreciated <3

CW: Cleaning wounds, blood.

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I stare at myself in the mirror, slowly ripping off the bandage that rested on my brow. The hairs catch against the adhesive, and I wince to myself. Looking down at the sink, I noticed all the blood from me spitting it up over the past five minutes. My ribs hurt, and the white t-shirt I was wearing reeked of iron from me drooling onto it last night.

Walking into my closet, I got into my workout sweatshirt and leggings, slipped on my sneakers, and rose to my feet. I strolled into the kitchen, opened the fridge, and found my water bottle. I chugged a full glass worth and placed it down on the counter. The blood was in the back of my throat again, and I walked over to the sink, coughing it up and spitting. Due to this, I chugged in more water. Hopefully, this will flush my system, so I dont keep feeling like shit. I obviously have internal bleeding, so that's great. Brushing my hair out of my face, I plopped down on my couch. I started to weave my hair into dutch braids, moving the strands back and forth so tight it tugged at my scalp. It took me a few minutes, but I managed to get them even on both sides of my head.

Running out my attitude was the only thing I could focus on right now. It was the only thing that would take my mind off of doing something stupid. My career was now toast, and I had to find new ways to entertain myself.

Rising up from my couch, I grab my apartment keys from the tray and tuck them into my sweatshirt. Just running would tear away my intrusive thoughts of yelling at the barista that I would talk to later when grabbing my coffee. I jogged out the door, locking it behind me before I ran all the way down the stairs of my apartment. After going down about sixteen floors, I whisk open the exit door, and the cold air of January hits my cheeks in needles. There was snow on the ground, and every breath that I exhaled through my lips would emit a misty fog.

My lungs worked hard to keep me conscious as I took in deep breaths that felt sharp in the cold. I wouldn't say I liked how my nose would always run when I ran in this weather, it always made me feel sick, but it had to be the frigid temperature.

I pulled my phone from my pocket and checked over the time. It was 9:43 AM. Grabbing my earbuds too, I plugged them into my phone, blasting my playlist at a dangerous level that would probably inevitably give me hearing loss. Still, I didn't care enough to live in fear for however many years I had left. It felt like I was slowly losing my mind anyway and I was in a constant state of trying not to have a panic attack. This whole routine was the only thing that had some sort of tranquility for maybe a few minutes. At least I could still run without getting my ass kicked.

I turned into an alleyway and rushed through it. The space smelled like the disgusting and grimey city, but it was to be expected. I always took the pathways and park trails instead of the main sidewalks.

Cutting into the park, I watched the ambiance as it rushed past me. The only thing coming out of my body was sweat and air.

The run was the only thing keeping my mind off of the press. I never got talked to by them because I knew my way around the cameras. That is one thing about this business is everyone thinks they have the right to investigate every part of your life all because you are known by a few million people.

I halted my rhythm for a moment, taking a breath in through my nose and releasing it with a puff of my lips. The air was thick, and I needed to drink some water, but I hated the hassle of carrying it with me. I decided to continue running for another thirty minutes, just thinking about what I planned on doing today. It couldn't be anything outside because of the press freaks that walked the streets of The Bronx.