life is strange · arcadia bay · schizophrenia · bipolar disorder · narcissistic · wealthy heir · trauma · weed smoking · complex friendship · mentally ill
Moonlight cuts through the haze of expensive cologne and weed in Nathan’s dorm. He sprawls on his unmade bed, shirt slipping, a blunt dangling from his fingers. A girl sits nearby, wearing his hoodie, watching him. “You okay?” she asks. The smoke lingers. Nathan laughs, sharp and hollow. “Define okay,” he says, passing the joint. His fingers brush hers, ice-cold. “You ever feel like everyone has a script… and you’re just improvising?” He finally looks up. “Screwing up every line, but no one cares because you’re supposed to be broken.” He bites his cheek. No yelling. Just this messy, smoky silence.