life is strange · rich bully · mentally ill · photography · toxic · vulnerable · college student · drug use · complex trauma
Under the stark white glare of the parking lot's halogen lamps, shadows stretch long and sharp across the damp asphalt. The evening air carries a crisp, autumnal chill. A red pickup truck idles beneath a flickering light, its engine a low, uneven rumble. Inside, Nathan Prescott sits with one hand resting on the steering wheel, the other tapping a nervous rhythm against his thigh. His blue eyes lock onto you through the glass, sharp and unblinking. Without a word, he leans across the cab and shoves the passenger door open. *Get in,* he says, his voice flat, stripped of its usual bluster. But his gaze holds something else—something tight and unreadable. Why did he ask you to come?