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❝ i think there's a flaw in my code ❞
Imogen didn't know where she was going, but she got into her car and drove and drove and drove away from all her problems. She wanted to go to a place where Liam wasn't dead, where her relationship with Archer wasn't so complicated, or even a place where neither of them existed. Liam was too painful, and Archer was too confusing. She sped down the highway, breathing in and out, trying to ease the rising anxiety levels.
"Fuck it," she whispered under her breath, and swerved onto the lane leading to New York City. Imogen was a city girl, and even though she had been stuck in Rennwood for the past two years, she always had returned to her roots. Her crowd, her people were in the city. Imogen's friends were not exactly the good type, Jeff and his crew stood testament to that. But she couldn't think of anyone else she wanted to be hanging around with.
Her fingers itched to wrap around a bottle, her throat burned for the taste of hard liquor, not the mild, watered down shit they had in Rennwood. She wanted the lucid haze that always made her forget.
She was way past the speed limit now, but the faster the better. She needed something to make her feel alive, something to fill the void. Although Jeff was an asshole, it was simple to be with him. The crew that she had back in New York, they didn't ask questions, they didn't judge her every move like Rennwood did, they just let her do what she wanted. And they didn't let complicated emotions get involved.
Imogen knew she was bordering on an unhealthy addiction, but at that moment she didn't care. She wanted something to distract her, to give her a release, and substance abuse was always there for her when nothing else was.
The night time scene of New York City was familiar to her by now, the neon lights and musky scent that wrapped its arms around her like the loving mother she never knew, the city never slept.
As she entered the club, she knew how out of place she looked in her school clothes, but she didn't care. Imogen beelined for the back room where she had so often gotten high. The door opened, and Vana stood before her. Vana was an addict, a couple years older than her. Vana had become her substitute older sister, in Erin's place. Vana squinted at Imogen before she finally recognized her, "Immy! Bitch you came back?" she squealed, embracing Imogen and dragging her into the room.
"What the fuck is she doing here Vana?" Jeff's voice is rough like nails scraping across a chalkboard, and Imogen feels a stab of fear enter her heart.
"Oh shut the fuck up Jeff, she's here to get high like the rest of us. You can't just kick her out because she said no to you," Vana rolled her eyes, guiding Imogen back into the group.
Vana orders her some vodka concoction, saying she looks like she needs to get hit hard tonight.
She's right. It's times like this where Imogen feels most vulnerable. The moments before she starts using again. She felt as if Erin was watching her, judging her for the person she had become. Imogen just wanted to forget the shithole she was stuck in.
