The steady sound of rain echoed in my ears.
Water poured from the sky in thick, relentless sheets, drenching me to the bone. My blue and black suit clung to the skin, heavy and sagging under the weight of it all.
heh-
It was just rain, I know.
I threw a long glance at my once-ironed suit and how I had smiled with glee when I had seen Ma setting it up on me.
She had slowly brushed the creases off the collar as she assured me,
'Everything will be fine.'
I had smiled back then—expecting a different outcome. Hoping that maybe I could even talk to Lyla..
No. I did not like her or anything..attracted, maybe-
But now?
Nothing.
I had seen how her gaze had looked at me with pity and also how she had finally given me an indifferent look as those motherfuc-brats dragged me away.
My nose could not help but scrunch up as I saw the dirty liquids and trash drip down my shirt.
hahh~
I let out a breath of foul air. The smile I'd worn, the anticipation I'd felt, even the rage from earlier—it was all gone.
It was like someone had reached inside my chest and cut the strings that held me together. I stood there, staring blankly at the streets before me, my mind as empty as the world around me.
Rain poured harder, blurring my surroundings into indistinct shapes. The vibrant laughter and life I had walked through earlier in the day were all gone, washed away by the storm.
It was almost an hour past midnight.
I remembered the bustling streets from this morning—children running between the stalls, merchants called out their goods with practiced cheerfulness; the warm and tasty scent of fresh bread mingling with the cool breeze.
Now, it was just… silence.
The streets were deserted, the market stalls abandoned, their colours muted under the rain.
Water pooled in uneven patches along the cobblestones, distorting reflections of dim lanterns that flickered weakly against the downpour.
The air smelled of damp earth and something metallic, sharp and biting.
"Grandma must be waiting for me," the thought slipped into my mind, soft yet insistent.
That was enough. It had to be.
I forced one foot forward, then the other. My legs felt heavy, dragging through puddles that splashed cold water up my shins.
Everything I had seen this morning—the joy, the life—it was all unrecognizable now. The streets that had felt alive..now felt lonely, swallowed by the storm.
The rain turned vibrant colours into smudges, happy faces into ghosts, and lively sounds into nothingness.
It blurred my vision, turning the world into a watercolour painting left out for too long.
My once-familiar route home now felt foreign, like I was wandering through someone else's memories.
Eventually, I stopped at a shady corner—a narrow alley where the rain couldn't quite reach. There..a secret shop had long been set up.
An illegal, rundown, counter.
I tilted my head back, closing my eyes. For a moment, I let myself pretend that the rain could wash everything away—the dirt, the pain, the hollow ache in my chest.
But it didn't.
It never did.
Ughhh
'I'm seriously going to regret this,' I tried convincing myself.
The rain kept falling, a relentless stream that soaked through my clothes and skin, as if trying to drown out the fire burning inside me. My fingers trembled at my sides, a familiar itch crawling beneath my skin, one that I hadn't felt in years but knew all too well.
I shouldn't have come here.
I shouldn't even have thought about it.
But the lust for a numbing drag of smoke…
It was unbearable.
I knew this feeling. The itch, the pull, the way my body screamed for release even as my mind whispered warnings I didn't want to hear.
It had been years since I'd last touched one. Years since I'd tried to dull the ache with the smoke that burned my lungs and slowed my thoughts.
I still remember the day Ma had caught me.
She'd dragged me out of my room, her voice shaking as she yelled, demanding to know where I'd gotten them.
"They're not normal!" she had screamed, the words echoing in my head even now. "These things—these poisons—they kill! Not just you, Noah. They'll kill anyone who comes near you if you keep this up!"
And then she'd beaten me. Not because she was cruel, but because she was desperate, terrified of losing me to something so senseless.
I still bore the scars, not on my skin but in the way my hands would twitch whenever I thought about lighting one up again.
She was right, of course.
These weren't ordinary cigarettes.
Enhanced with god knows what, they were designed to give a high so strong to make even the Mages and the Awakened feel invincible. But the cost? They could take your life just as easily.
I'd sworn I would never touch them again. Not after what they'd done to me. Not after what they'd nearly done to her.
But tonight...
Tonight, the storm inside me was louder than Ma's warnings.
"Grandma must be waiting for me," I told myself again, trying to clung onto it like a lifeline.
But the thought hadn't been enough to stop my feet from carrying me here, to this place I'd sworn to forget.
The man behind the counter noticed me almost immediately. His dark, black eyes sat beneath deep shadows, giving him a skeletal appearance.
A smile crept on his face, the kind of smile that made you feel like you'd made the wrong choice just by showing up.
"What can I get you, sir?" he asked, his voice as slick and oily as the rain-soaked streets.
I stared at him for a long moment, my mouth dry despite the downpour.
My fingers curled into fists again, nails dug into my palms. Maybe if I just stood here long enough, he'd lose interest and walk away.
But he didn't.
His smile only widened as the silence stretched, like he knew exactly why I was there and was waiting for me to say it.
I tried to look anywhere but at him, my eyes darting to the counter, the ground, the shadows beyond the shop.
My jaw tightened, my throat lurching as I fought to keep the words inside.
Don't do it. Just leave.
But my voice betrayed me, slipping out in a barely audible murmur.
"Give me a cigarette."
I could see this skinny man's set of teeth as his smile widened.
Ughhh, my stomach turned..But I knew I needed it-
"Ahh," he said, his voice dripping with false camaraderie. "Long time, isn't it?"
I didn't answer, my gaze fixed on the counter as shame and anticipation twisted inside me.
"Still the enhanced ones, I assume?" he continued, reaching under the counter without waiting for my reply.
My shoulders tensed and my jaw tightened as he set the slim, silver-wrapped stick in front of me.
"First one's on the house," he said, his tone almost mocking.
I stared at it, the weight of my weakness pressing down on me.
"It's been years," I muttered, more to myself than to him. My voice was barely audible over the rain, shaking as I reached out, my fingers hovering over the cigarette.
Years since the last time I'd let this poison control me. Years since I'd felt its burn in my lungs, its haze in my mind.
And yet, here I was.
Pathetic.
I picked it up, my hand trembling as I brought it closer. The temptation was unbearable and the thought of numbing all my pain seemed too enticing to resist.
"Just one," I whispered, my voice rigid and lifeless.
Just once.
***