Chloe Price.
I adjusted the beanie on my head, covering the roots peeking through my dyed blue hair. I took a drag of my cigarette while doing so. My nail polish was chipped, leaving only blue flecks of it on my fingernails. I gnawed on them while anxious. My wardrobe was littered with the merchandise of obscure punk groups. Most of the groups only ever released a single. My mom said I've "hit all the phases" - boys, tattoos, blue hair, punk music. The only phase I regretted was the boy phase. After much experimenting I realised I swung the other way. Mom was chill about that, though. She had always been cool, unlike my step-douche. He was lieutenant major dickbutt, and that was all I would say about him. I was an asshole myself, sure. Typical punk problem child. Weed is, regrettably, the only thing keeping me away from the shit-storm that I call my life. Ever since my dad died everything has been well and truly fucked, and I hated everything. Yes, even Max Caulfield.
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colors ✩ pricefield
Fanfictionyou were red and you liked me 'cause i was blue but you touched me and suddenly i was a lilac sky then you decided purple just wasn't for you
