Lauren Jauregui Imagines

Teardrop Tattoos: Part One

Prompt: Everyone knows what teardrop tattoos near the eyes mean: “You've murdered people, and that's your reward after you go to prison." A.U.

WARNING: CRUDE COMMENTS, DARK HUMOR, DEATH

Nothing would ever be the same for the twenty year old again. She'd been in prison since the tender age of seventeen and was finally released after three years on parole.

Y/N Y/L/N would also have a permanent reminder of why she was there. It would haunt her for the rest of her life. It would remind her that she was never truly free of her actions that night - even if they weren't planned.

3 Years Ago

Brooklyn, New York City - 10:56 p.m. Pandemonium Night Club

There was little activity transpiring outside of Pandemonium Night Club in Brooklyn tonight. They were having an “All NIGHT FREE ADMISSION" night, meaning everyone would be inside the packed nightclub.

Y/N Y/L/N was never one to enjoy the nightlife and all the dangers that lay waiting to creep up on someone like a lion eying it's prey. She normally walked home from the local Starbucks where she had a temporary job at on the other side of town.

Crossing past Pandemonium on a regular night was like asking for trouble, which was what made Y/N different from the other kids her age.

Brooklyn was crime filled without even trying. The police had long since given up trying to influence the youth to change since it always ended in a fatality or tense stand off.

No one dared entering and exiting Brooklyn without protection. If you weren't apart of the problem, you were a target. Much like Y/N.

Deciding to make the night a bit easier, Y/N hopped off the A-Train on 5th Avenue and placed her hood on her head as she walked down the dimly lit streets.

Brooklyn was once a beautiful city, full of mass buildings and street venders on every corner. There was a local park where children always played and adults always gossiped about the latest who and whatever. Flowers blossomed in and out despite the cold weather, and most importantly; no one killed or robbed anyone.

Unfortunately times changed, and so did the once suburban community of Brooklyn. Brick buildings were coated in crude graffiti and destructive vandalism. The once child friendly park had become rival gangs turf to fight and keep up mayhem. The flower's roots were destroyed from gunshot wounds and despicable little kids with no proper raising tugging and mauling at them. Brooklyn had become a repugnant, vexatious, odious shell of it's former self.

Feeling better about the shorter distanced walk, Y/N plugged her earphones in, “Twenty One Pilot's ‘Stressed Out'" blaring through the speakers inside the earpieces.

Exhaling a cool breath of air as the winds picked up, Y/N rounded the corner of Luis's Lucky Lemon Pies, a popular and local bakery that specialized in the best lemon meringue pies. She was instantly met with two hooded figures, both apparently male.

The first boy appeared to be around her age, and a little on the tall side. He had fair toned skin thanks to the light shining down from the streetlight, natural brown hair that was dyed at the tips, and wore a gray hoodie.