17 BLACK | HS

SEVEN

tw: brief mention of suicidal thoughts
there is a *** where it begins and ends if you'd like to skip those few paragraphs <3

this is a bit more of a heavier chapter so if anyone needs any sort of summary let me know

Miller Langley

"Ow, fuck." I mumble to myself as I scrape my arm on a piece of the letter 'H' that's sticking out of it. You'd think by now I would remember to move to the right when I'm about three quarters of the way up so I don't scrape my upper arm, and yet, it happens every time.

You would also think that after a million trips up here I would remember it's really not the best idea to be climbing one handed –one holding a fresh bottle of wine while the other grips the rungs of the ladder– while I'm already quite tipsy.

Pulling myself up and onto the bench, I shimmy my way to the edge, letting my legs hang over the side. I grab my bottle of red wine, feeling my tongue jet out of the corner of my mouth in drunk concentration as I attempt to pop the cork out while looking out in front of me, taking it all in.

The cork finally comes out, making a nice 'pop' sound, before it falls into oblivion hundreds of feet below me. As I take the first long sip straight from the bottle, I look out before me at the cold city beneath me.

Ah, the Hollywood Sign. One of Los Angeles' most prized possessions.

Although nothing seemed to humble this city as much as the vandalism that changed it to the 'Hollyweed' Sign years ago. A laugh escapes my reddened lips at the thought of the flashback reentering my mind. I still can't believe we never got caught for that. Eponine and I –along with a few people from our dorm floor freshman year of college– snuck up here one night, hanging up white and black sheets on both of the letter 'O's to change them into 'E's. The city was going crazy trying to track down who did it, but they never found us.

After that they put up a big fence in an attempt to keep the public out and to protect their precious fucking sign. It's worked for the most part, but as you've come to learn, I'm the exception baby– not the rule. I found my way back quite quickly after our little escapade up here.

Something about the way the city felt from up here... the way life felt from up here. The noise seemed to quiet down, the business seemed to slow down, the meaning seemed to be put into perspective.

Everything seems so miniscule from up here, so unimportant, so... pointless.

I bring the bottle back up to my mouth, gulping back a large amount as the liquid dries the taste buds in my mouth. A slight pucker takes over my lips kind of like if it was sour– don't worry, it wasn't.

The wine in my system lets my mind begin to speak to me– something I wish it wouldn't do so often. Normally I feel this way sober, which is why I cling to places like Cinema to remove the pain and the noise, but sometimes –when the noise is really loud– the alcohol just heightens it. I bring myself up here because you can't hear the chaos of the city. The only thing left are the voices in my head.

I try to sweep it under the rug for the most part. I can't really talk to dad about it, and I love Eponine but she doesn't really care about this sort of stuff– so I come up here.

The constant feeling that I'm fighting some battle no one else can see.

The fighting, the crashing and burning and breaking, it all gets to be too much sometimes. Climbing up here seems to help... so for now I'll stick to that.

Taking another swig of wine, I breathe in the fogged air that's wedged its way between me and the city, only reminding me of my hatred I still carry in my back pocket for the packed concrete jungle I've become so accustomed to.