𝙑𝙞𝙭𝙚𝙣 || 𝙏𝙧𝙞𝙥𝙡𝙚 𝙁𝙧𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙞𝙚𝙧

Twenty five.

Chapter twenty five: Let it burn

Margo couldn't return the overly fake smile that had been plastered on by the airport's staff. With just carry on, she didn't have to go through the whole commotion of being afraid of her luggage being lost, even though the bag consisted of the clothes she wore over the course of the best and worst week of her life. So if it got lost, it would be one less weight for her to carry, considering the weight of the world rested on her shoulders.

With her head held high, she strode through the airport security and made her way through the bustling crowd. There were families who were hyping each other up, ready to go on a huge holiday and Margo wished she had that type unit to call home. Then again, she could only smile. The memories she made within seven days would last forever and she would almost bet her two million that they weren't going to have as much adventure and excitement as she did.

The unwanted itch for a cigarette, almost like a scratch on her skin and eventually, she'd pick and pick at it until the scab reopened to form a wound. That was pretty much the way she described her addictions. She still depended on alcohol but smoking was more accessible and socially acceptable depending on the time of day. Even if she did care about what other people thought, she'd still drink all day every day but she had bills to pay. Had being the key word, because now, she was a millionaire without a care in the world.

People were beginning to make her skin crawl. With each shove and the brushing of shoulders as they struggled to catch up with their connecting flight, all she wanted was a cigarette. To puff on the relaxing nicotine felt better than downing bottle and bottles of wine. She hated the sadness that followed after a glass and she wanted to feel something rather than being completely numb.

She entered the duty free shop and was amazed to see massive packs of cigarettes that held at least twenty smaller packets inside. She carried two over to the cashier who simply scanned it, she handed the money and put the packets in her luggage.

"Where can I go to smoke?"

"You can't." The cashier breathed a laugh, looking at her as though she had two heads. "You can't smoke inside of an airport. Have you even been to one?"

Margo scoffed and glared to the man with disgust. "Are you fucking kidding me? I just bought forty dollars worth of bloody cigarettes and you're telling me I can't even smoke them?"

"Just following the rules, lady."

"Fuck you and fuck your rules." She spat and exited the shop, leaving the employee unfazed.

With a grunt, she hauled her bag to the gate which was closing in ten minutes. She thought for a second that the cashier would be lying. She was quite rude and if somebody spoke to her with that attitude, not only would she backhand them til next week but she would refuse service. There was bound to be an outpost for her to indulge in the nicotine so now, she was on her way to find innocent strangers to pry about smoking huts.

She walked to the seating area. When a woman turned round, she tutted upon seeing the dishevelled features of the younger girl. 

"Excuse me." She began with a false smile. "Can you tell me where the smoking area is?"

Gasping, the woman eyed her up and down and with Margo's rugged appearance, she supposed she was an alcoholic of some sorts. "Dear, you need to get help. You're going to ruin your body if you keep smoking!"

"Who gives a fuck about lungs anyway?" Margo snorted. "Listen, can't you just answer the question? I need to be at my gate within eight minutes. I really need a cigarette."