ADDICTION
Disclaimer – Gilmore Girls don't belong to me. If I did, Lorelai never would've slept with Chris, let alone married the guy and Rory and Logan wouldn't have broken up for good at the end of the season. But if this Gilmore Girls Telemovie comes to pass, depending on how it goes I may forgive the shows creators for leaving it in the hands of David Rosenthal which ruined it all.
Summary - Addiction can be deadly and the road it leads you down can be even deadlier. Trory. Told from Louise's POV.
WARNING: Extremely AU!!! A story about drug addiction. Contains Rory/Tristan, Louise/Logan and brief mentions of Steph/Collin and Paris/Finn.
Necessary Background Information - Chris and Lorelai got married when they had Rory, so Rory grew up in Hartford, next door to Louise, and thus they became best friends. Tristan & Steph are step-brother and sister. Paris & Logan are brother and sister. (Honor and Madeline were not used as they did not fit appropriately for this story)
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ADDICTION
Chapter 6 – The End of the Beginning
And when I say we ruled, I mean it. People were scared to death of us. Word of mouth reached kids at school, and totally transformed us all into bad-asses with reputations. The teachers were scared to ask us shit.
The teachers.
You know you've built up a reputation when the teachers at the school are afraid to punish you.
We ruled. We could totally snow over our parents, and everyone else was afraid of us. Do you have any idea how awesome that is? How freeing?
How lonely?
It was us and the world. It didn't matter if we controlled the world or if the world was against us, it always ended the same.
Us. World. Not together.
I'm an observer, apparently. That's why I'm sitting here giving you all these shitty details about my friends. I'm not ready to tell my story yet. I spent those 4 years observing my friends, cataloguing every movement, and have spent the months I've been in therapy trying to figure them out.
Especially Tristan and Rory.
It's taken me awhile, but I've finally got it. See … The world was against them, too. They had both come from broken families, dysfunctional in their own right. Rory's parents, Chris and Lorelai were doomed from the start. Pregnant at 16 and married barely out of high school. It wasn't a total big surprise when Chris eventually ended up disappearing on his motorcycle, divorcing Lorelai when Rory had barely even turned 8, forcing her to live with her mother only. Her mother who had become a shell of the person she used to be. Tristan and Rory were both seriously fucked to begin with; imagine throwing drugs into the mix.
And they were all each other had.
I don't think they realized it until they met each other. I mean, I guess Tristan always thought that the rest of the gang was all he had, and Rory thought I was her family. But then the second they met each other, it all seemed to click.
They had found each other, and it was love, love in a world that otherwise taught them to lie, backstab, put on facades and please everyone by not being themselves. So they made a taciturn pact with each other, one that they never broke. It was them. Just them. Everyone else was dispensable, everyone else they could get rid of and still be happy.
They never broke that pact. Ever.
Another feeling I don't like— being replaced by your best friend. You don't know what fear is, until you realize that your best friend, the sister you never had, would easily kill you if you dare posed a threat to her boyfriend.
So we let them be. We let them screw each other's brains out, watching them get high together, while we listened to Paris try to convince herself that they were just screwing.
So there we sat, in passive silence, listening to Rory's screams that I could only imagine were being muted by a rough pillow or something like that. And I stared at Paris, and watched as her beautiful face was pillaged by a cloud of smoke, turning several shades of lavender, wondering (sometimes in her head, sometimes out loud) why it couldn't be her in that room.
The year flew by. I went from being a virginal 16 year old to a slutty, addicted 17 year old.
And that's when the shit started to really go down.
Parents. Even today they amaze me. They love you when you're all little, you know, cute and cuddly. Then you hit primary school and it's like "yeah … okay … hey sweetie. I'm have an important business meeting I need to get too. Or I really need to head to the salon. Bye," And then they give you total and complete freedom, and they want you to have fun. Of course, you get in the kind of fun they deem illegal, and when it comes to their attention, you're screwed.
So, after ignoring me for 2 years, all of a sudden they want the "Best Parents of the United States" award and start wondering where all the missing money went, why I'm never home (apparently the maid had been noticing things – Bitch), and all that other crap. Of course I got defensive. You didn't get defensive when you were innocent. And I was definitely guilty. I sure as hell wasn't going to admit that.
"My parents are getting really pissed," I told them all, one time, sitting on some dingy couch in the back of this party house. Smoke was pouring in from the next room, but I didn't really care. You got used to it after a while.
I never really got a chance to finish telling them why they were pissed because Colin the savior came prancing in.
"Hey guys," Colin said, plopping down with us. "I got you a real treat," Then he pulled them out.
Pills. Cids. Acid. Whatever you want to call them.
Oh hell yes.
I didn't take any at first. I wanted to see what would happen, I guess. I don't know. Even then, after everything we had done, I still retained some of my skepticism of taking drugs.
"Acid?" Steph said, taking one and examining it in the palm of her hand. After investigating it in a semi-thorough manner, she popped it in her mouth. Tristan and Rory did the same.
The rest of us just watched.
I don't know how much time it took. I don't remember. But all of a sudden, I remember Steph shrieking.
"LOOK!" She screamed, enraged, pointing a finger at the pictures of the dogs playing poker hanging on the wall. I quickly turned to stare at Rory, whose bright blue eyes were wide and round following the direction of Steph's finger.
"The dogs!" Steph shrieked again. "They're plotting against us!!!! Can you see that? They want to take our supply! They're coming after us! Kill them!"
"Fuck you!" Rory echoed crying out loud, lunging at one of the pictures, ripping it from the wall, then proceeded to slam it up against the wall repeatedly, occasionally missing it entirely and hitting her knuckles instead.
"Fucking dogs!" Tristan exclaimed, ripping the torn, ruined picture from Rory's slightly bruised and bloodied hands and flinging it across the room, narrowly missing Paris's head.
"We did it!" Rory exclaimed proudly, her voice spacey. "We beat the dogs!"
"Rory," Tristan said suddenly, his pissed off voice turning into a soft, child-like tone. He took her into his arms gently and looked at her in awe. "You're glowing!"
It was so innocent the way he said it. His hard azure eyes got all young, soft, and vulnerable.
I was scared shitless.
It wasn't that my friends had just thought a picture of a pack of poker playing dogs was plotting against them. Not it wasn't that. It was much more simple. Tristan. He was not soft. He was not innocent.
He was totally tripping.
I watched her stunned, my eyes wide, as Tristan rubbed his hands tenderly over the goose-bumped flesh of her arms, as if he was feeling the warmth of the glow radiating off her skin. Rory just laughed this angelic laugh.
"I love you," he whispered to her skin as he pressed loving kisses all over her face. "I love you."
Rory just smiled knowingly, pressing her forehead against his own and capturing his lips in a soft, languid kiss. She murmured in return, "And I love you."
He did. He really loved her.
And she loved him.
Wait … I was talking about parents before … right? Oh fuck it.
You know what comes next. All good things have to end.
I came home drunk. My parents caught me.
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