Prologue : can I come home?
Beneath all the bright lights in the neon illuminating amongst the UV lighting all over this nightclub, considering sensory training sounds in sites from all side of the wall in the halls, the building itself with a whole ass maze. it was quite surprising that he even managed to find the restrooms in the building, let alone the roof. He had really bad sensory issues, the combination of liquor, and lights maybe a few bits of drugs as well. The poor man is practically dropping over the ground, before on his knees dropping a wave of vomit onto the ground, because his head is spinning like he just went on a merry-go-round, a roller coaster and one of those danger twisters roller coasters that you normally go in a theme park, hope to God you don’t vomit on your friend next to you.
He dropped laid down from it because he didn’t wanna be near it or else he’s gonna throw up all over again and he didn’t want that. He took a moment to catch his breath and to find his phone in his pocket, which, surprisingly he didn’t lose during the whole runaround. This is not the first time he had this happen often when he’s an a fucking concert when he’s in a birthday party when he’s in just about anywhere that has loud music, flashing lights, or bright lights too many lights to be honest, there’s nothing that doesn’t affect him. Even when he was traveling around the world, he has to keep track of what he eats keep track of what he does because his sensory issues would give him such a bad time. Nonetheless he loves this life he likes partying. He likes your hugs. He likes going to concerts. He loves after parties and he sure as hell likes to boost it up every once in a while when shit is really bad because what is life if you’re not living each day like it’s your last. Maybe that was the point of all of it. Living to the fullest no matter what comes in your way and in the most cases yeah life is hard enough as it is, but it’s only better when you have something to live for. If you had to tell an inner mantra to yourself, so be it. Does it make it easier to wake up in the morning yes does it make life any easier but it makes life worth living. At least for the most part… as he gets up to whatever is left of his cheap burrito at 10 PM after his last hangover before being dragged away by his best friend Maddie who stumbled on after him of the stairways of the roof, and it was already at the edge, screaming her head off as she was both high and drunk. Now Maddie had a different life and her life was a lot harder. To not relive that environment was abused constantly by relatives and people around her for years. She has long since cut off her family as she slowly spiral from the same way they did. She lived with a mantra of trying to outlive and trying to be better than they were only for her to crash land when she realized she didn’t have a childhood. It may not sound like anything to a regular person, but for someone like her, a young girl abused, and then having to wake up one morning and realize she never had a freaking childhood because she was in and out of relatives houses, never had a stable home, let alone a place to call home, except the bottle. She fell into drinking. It wasn’t necessarily a surprise because her family unfortunately had a history of alcoholism and with one addiction and a family member is going to spread like wildfire if it’s not controlled. If history doesn’t repeat itself, but it is not guaranteed that I wouldn’t repeat itself unless the people who are suffering, take action for themselves, but sometimes it isn’t necessarily the case. He knew her problems, but he loved her.
He was there for her maybe she didn’t realize, he was her home. So when he saw her screaming on the ledge, he of course ran to her, knocking her to the ground. As she cussed him out, thinking he was some sort of horny jerk hitting on her, and then when she realized it was him, she was just looking for her heels which she ultimately lost over the ledge before she got tackled like a human football. Maddie had curly blonde hair but the issue I made her the most self-conscious is when her weight is involved which. Yes she is on the curvy side, but she is in the perfect wait for her size. She’s 5’3, 170 pounds. However, it doesn’t help when people start commenting about her weight as if she was a fucking hippo. In most Spanish languages she would be labeled a torta, which to English speakers is some sort of sandwich least with beans, lettuce, cheese, and on occasion, chopped up meat for tacos. Not great to hear when you’re out a Mexican restaurant trying to get a simple taco and the cashier makes comments like you probably had enough in Spanish. The poor girl doesn’t have a break but Tristan will always do his best to make sure she has one. If there was any woman he can follow up with it would be Maddie because he would jump off a fucking cliff with her if he wanted to.
Maddie was not only high out of her mind, but she made a statement that made it. Tristan question what he wanted to do with the rest of a few minutes that he has. He’s exhausted, but he has been evicted from his apartment. It’s not like he had much of anything in there other than a mattress and one measly blanket, that he left behind, and he only has his passport, his cell phone, and his tablet, along with his sensory toys that will distract him and some deck of cards to play solitaire. Maddie story of tells him she just been kicked out of her sister‘s home. After her sister’s boyfriend made a move on her and attempted to assault her. He didn’t succeed because Maddie isn’t afraid to draw her hands anymore. She’s in the scare little girl who sits there and takes shit. She boxed him out. To the point where he injured his eye in the process what does the sister do? got mad at Maddie because she was hitting on her boyfriend. So Maddie left, she didn’t bring her stuff. She didn’t really have much to begin with. Unfortunately, she had nowhere else to go.
Tristan couldn’t exactly leave his friend behind so he decided to help her up. Give her his shoes and he had to walk around in socks as he called an Uber, wasting 50 bucks on getting this Uber and then when he got inside, he made one last text message to his brother Judas, who is back at home, and then the quiet nightlife in the car turned into the nighttime of Judas smoking in the barn near two or three horses. Jonas is finishing up last-minute paperwork for the farm. So Judas was the one who answered the home line. “ what’s up?” Judas says in a deep slightly rusted Voice, Tristan simply replied “I’m coming home.” Jonas took the phone and asked “ who is this?” his voice was a lot deeper and raspy. Tristan repeated “it’s Tristan. I’m coming home.” Judas and Jonas looked at age up briefly their dark raven hair buried by their hats that were also obsidian in color. Identical twins, wearing two different color blue plaid flannel shirts. Jonas was wearing a turtleneck sweater underneath. He shrugged his shoulders and responded ” OK well tell Ma, to get your room ready for you.” he didn’t sound quite judgmental. Matter of fact he didn’t really give a shit. The silence didn’t help, though it only feel Tristan skilled for coming home as he apologized “ i’m sorry..” do this was confused and responded on the phone. “ what are you apologizing for, boy?” Jonas starts laughing bell he can hear the southern bell coming from his brother’s voice. He chimes in “Boy, you’re gonna have wicked stories to tell us, you better be here by dinner time, you know how ma gets.” They said before hanging up and for a moment, Tristan didn’t feel so guilty. He felt like he had a home to get back to. however, back at the farm Judas asked Jonas “why did we leave them back here, especially after what we became?” he looked scared when they were talking about it, but Jonas turned back at him with a strange smile on his face as the horses started to react with quite fear, losing their minds and almost rattling depends that they were in. He made a strange response to Judas “The little lamb will be either a lamb to the slaughter or another one for the pack.”
