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MERLE DIXON WAS toxic. The very moment he had been born his purpose in life was simply to destroy everything he endeavoured to touch. It had been a long-accepted fate that Merle never once battled with. That had been until his life as he knew it had turned on its head. Being solely responsible of the overdose of his brother's girlfriend would certainly throw him head first into turmoil. Worthlessness was something Merle had been used to the entirety of his life. It was his biggest achievement to date. When Merle had first heard the word "failure" simply became his aesthetic; unapologetic through and through.
The appeal of Merle was his ability to live. When one has nothing to live for, it is simply recklessness that fuels one's willpower. Merle was notorious for his drug addiction; passion for sex and unholy thrive for alcohol and criminality. The forbidden Dixon. The Dixon's were the boogeymen of Atlanta, with only horror stories played out amongst friends, slowly tarnishing their reputations with each innocent whisper. They were the sole topic for hot gossip, instantly recognised upon evidence of their clan — the biker jackets that separated them heavily from the rest of the town. They were always the foreigners. But never to Ellie.
YEARS AGO
The roaring of the music from a barely functioning jukebox filled the air surrounding Ellie as she drunkenly scampered through the raging house party. It had been one of the most important parties of the century for the young adults of Atlanta, and Ellie was certain she wasn't going to miss it for any reason. Even if she hadn't really wanted to be there. In the midst of strangers that were closer to Luke's age than her own. Barely seventeen years old, Ellie clutched the tiniest of jackets around her arms to cover the chill that ran up her spine, upon having been abandoned by her closest and most selfish friend, Charlotte. Sheepishly, she brushed past the countless drunken teenagers, until finally she burst through a door, collapsing against it as she panted heavily.
"You're okay," she whispered to herself, attempting to calm the pain that raised in her chest, an all too familiar feeling.
"Can't nobody give me some fuckin' space?" a heavy accented growl caused Ellie stumble slightly from fear. The stranger turned to face the girl, and raised their eyebrows upon observing her fearful glance, and tiny clothes, "The fuck?"
"I-I'm sorry I'll go," she nervously replied, scrambling to open the door, causing the stranger to scoff at her clumsiness.
"You're here now, just sit down," he ordered, leaving Ellie to gulp, and freeze in her stance.
The blonde released a shaky breath, but proceeded to step forth towards the two deck chairs placed neatly together next to a small, glass table. A pungent ashtray sat by its lonesome on the table, occasionally being greeted by the man's cigarette in his hands when he flicked off the ashes into the bowl. He spotted Ellie's observations, and smirked slightly to himself. He proceeded to take a gargantuan gulp from his near empty bottle of whisky, and held it out, offering it to the teenager.
