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)
Reviews – Thank you to: max.logan, Cindy, Xla la loverX. just hidden, trorygirl, Curley-Q, corruptedchic, bubz22, LeytonTilEnd, nk-number1actress, Nicole Katherine, Meredith McDreamy, darcy007, Jackie, darkvixen06, londonluver, sara, ggrulz56, starshine34, veronicalogan & :D.
Thank you all for the reviews! They're like my crack!
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ADDICTION
Chapter 8 - Downfall
Our apartment was this roach infested little hole with a grimy bathroom. LA didn't afford the cheapest of accommodation and we wanted to save our money for other things.
Drugs.
Tristan and Rory didn't notice as they claimed one of the two bedrooms. No one dared argue with them.
Despite the rundown state of the apartment, it was cool, at first. Moving into our own place.
Living with your best friends. No parents. No rules.
We were on our own. We were a family. It was exhilarating.
Yeah, that lost its appeal very quickly.
It's kind of sad to say it out loud, but the first thing we did was find a new supplier, since we left Colin behind in the world of Hartford. Actually, Steph found us a new supplier. A new supplier that couldn't get enough of her. Which is a very good thing.
We found raves. We found clubs. We found parties. We found people like us. We had a good amount of money, so none of us really had to work.
Life fell into a pattern after a while. Drugs, Clubs, Sex, Music. It was all good.
Months went by, days blurring past me into oblivion. Steph started doing rave drugs, and was in absolute heaven. Rory liked them too, but stuck mainly to crack, as did Tristan. They didn't snort it anymore, they smoked it. The high doesn't last as long, but it's much more powerful.
Logan and I stuck with an array of choices, flipping from pills, to crack, to acid and repeating the cycle all over again. God, I use to love it when we took acid together, tripping with him, his warm body over mine … God, I can't. … I just need a moment. … Okay … I'm sorry, where was I? Oh yeah, the drugs.
Paris was the cleanest, of all of us, I'm sorry to say. I think she liked the way pain felt, that's why she stayed sober. If she could feel pain, it meant she could still hate Rory and be justified. If the drugs took that away from her, she'd be left a huge mass of patheticness.
Did that even make sense? No … didn't think so.
Finn … Oh God. I miss him so much.
I remember it so vividly, which is so odd, because, you know, I was very strung out on something when it happened. We were at this guy's party, on the top floor of this old, abandoned factory, lounging on some worn bean bags that had been haphazardly strewn across the floorboards.
Finn had been off dealing in the corner with some guy, scoring some new drugs. Steph was chatting animatedly to some guy's lap she was sitting on. Tristan and Rory were wrapped in each other as usual, while Paris held onto a barely touched beer bottle shooting daggers at them. I was talking to some random partygoers while waiting for Logan who had wandered off to grab some more beer for us. Basically, the usual routine.
So you can imagine what a shock it was when a blood curling scream broke through the chatter, the loud pumping music, the drug induced atmosphere, broke through it all.
Finn had some bad acid.
Very bad. His eyes, were wide, bloodshot and they looked like they were about to explode.
He had rushed back to us and was screaming, kicking, crying, begging us to take him home.
"Do you see them?!?" He shrieked, winding his arms around my calves, trying to hide under me. "The needles! They're trying to stab me to death with needles!"
"What the f— " Steph was saying, her voice panicked, standing up quickly and rushing towards Finn. She bent down on her knees and took his face in her hands. "What the hell is going on? Finn!! Snap out of it!"
Finn paid no notice. He pushed Steph away roughly and stood up as we all watched scared out of our wits. "I can't stay here!" He yelled, the tears running down his pale ashen face. "Take me home! Get these fucking needles away from me!"
He let out another bloodcurdling scream, this time making everyone stand up out of their chairs and rush at him, trying to calm him down. Logan had come back with beers at this point and was trying to help Tristan grab Finn who was darting around the room crazily.
"They're sticking me!" He screamed again, digging his nails into his skin and making long gashes, taking off pieces of flesh. Blood was starting to gush from the wounds.
I was going to be sick.
"Finn!" Steph yelled, finally managing to grab him again, and shook him desperately trying to snap him out of it. Tears were in her blue eyes.
Steph didn't cry.
He pushed her away violently, and slowly turned behind him.
You know when everything just seems to go into slow motion? That's what happened.
He pushed her away, turned towards the large full wall window, and ran full speed towards it.
His body hit the window at full force, the glass splintered and shattered into large pieces as he crashed through it fully, screaming.
Then, we all rushed futilely to the window, watching helplessly, frozen in horror as one of our best friends in the world, plummeted four stories to his death.
"Finn!" Steph screamed, pushing out the window into the freezing night air, seemingly trying to follow him.
"Oh my God!" Rory was sobbing uncontrollably as Tristan tried to take her in his arms, closing his eyes painfully at the sight we had just witnessed. "Not Finn!"
"We have to get out of here!" Logan was saying, pulling me and an incredibly shocked and motionless Paris out the door, "We have to get out of here before the cops get here and see us."
"Fuck you!" Steph turned around and screamed at him, her small fists hitting Logan's chest furiously. Tristan reached for her arm, to hold her back. She was losing it.
She had loved Finn dearly.
"Our friend is dead!" She screamed again hoarsely, her silver blue eyes filled with anger, craze and sadness. "Our friend is dead and you're worried about getting sent to jail? Fuck you!"
Tristan and Logan somehow managed to get us back to the apartment, I still can't remember how. We were back in our home, but nothing was the same. Logan looked like he was expecting it as he rubbed my back soothingly while I just numbly watched everyone else. Tristan was more concerned with making Rory feel better as she cried silently for the loss of our dear friend. Steph looked like she was about to kill someone, and Paris was just looking at Rory like she had done all this.
It never was the same, after that. All though we were all affected by Finn's death, I think it was Steph who it hit the most. Steph, she lost her optimism. She no longer saw us as family. Maybe she realized how replaceable she was. I don't know.
Even worse, we all stopped trusting each other. Steph hated Logan with a vengeance. Paris hated Rory. I hated Tristan for taking my best friend away from me. Tristan hated everyone except for Rory.
I think I even realized it then, which is a small miracle. We were on a downfall. Finn's death served as a catalyst for all this hate and anger. And we let it consume us.
Ripping us of our hearts almost like Finn ripped off his flesh.
I can't think about it. I just can't. If I think about it, I'll go crazy, then start playing with sharp objects again. Last time I did that I ended up with these two slash marks over my wrists.
Oops.
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