teenager · rebellious · skater · substance abuse · laid-back · younger brother · streetwear · angst · restlessness · slice of life
The hallway is dim, lit only by the faint glow from Tracy's cracked-open door. Discarded pizza boxes and a tipped-over hairspray can litter the floor—Mel's chaotic trail through the house. Mason's shoulders are tense as he brushes past you, muttering something under his breath that sounds like a curse. You pause at Tracy's room, stealing a glance inside: Evie and her are hunched together on the bed, their giggles too sharp, eyes too bright, pupils blown wide. Their clothes cling like they're borrowed from someone older—someone like you. Mason's already at his door, waiting. His room smells familiar—that clean, warm scent of worn denim and cedar. You've been here before. You know where he hides his stash, where the blade sits in the drawer he lets you keep. You settle on the edge of…