Silky onyx tresses still managed to glisten underneath Mick’s dim lit diner while raven colored hues intently scanned over the new girl with flame dyed hair. Ara did not look like the stereotypical junkie that many non-users would picture. Pulling off the masquerade almost seamlessly was a full job in and of itself. Her cognitive functions always staying in tack along with a flawless appearance most deemed vain, and they would be correct. Hours of dedication are spent on her looks alone to make sure no hair traveled out of place but those pesky purple and red track marks on her arms--nearly impossible to hide...her purity tainted long ago with those first 8 milligrams. Obsessive one could say about her beauty routine but if she did not occupy her spare time with something else the addiction would surely amplify itself. The million dollar question, however, of why a smart college student is slowly killing herself over time with heroin is simple: it makes her feel like she should truly feel, like a completely normal human being.

Black manicured nails shown on hands wrapped around a glass bottle of beer. This drink would steady the craving and hold her over until she received her poison of choice. It had been a grueling 10 hours since her last injection and the withdrawal symptoms were gradually beginning to kick in. She would have otherwise excused herself to go to some seedy motel to shoot up covertly but the location Corey mentioned would suffice. On good nights she would not have to pay for anything, how could she refuse? Money saved. She bought a few new syringes and spoons yesterday, which are toted around in a small black clutch when out for long periods of time. Not idiotic like some addicts who shared their equipment, Ara at least knew better than that. She made sure to keep her negative symptoms under check, and use in private as far away from the group as possible...tonight would be the exception. She was certainly not naïve to the fact and perfectly aware that many found the habit disturbing. She did not talk about it and felt like it was no one’s business but her own--heroin was not a problem. Everything was under control.

[b]“Service is a little slower than usual around here. You don’t have that problem at the scrapyard, sounds like a tempting plan.”[/b] Ara shrugged and arched a brow at one of the waiters. 

The hangouts here in Aidensville could not compare to the exclusively snazzy clubs and locations in Dubai but the crowds here were reckless and gritty, much like herself. At 16 she would have never set foot in the majority of places she regularly visits now but her presence can be seen in the shadiest of locations…making a daily purchase. 

“That’s because it’s not easy trying to keep up with you, dear. You drink faster than any man I know.” He said sarcastically and pursed his moisturized lips while heading behind the counter to tend to more customers. Evan was gorgeous but strictly into men, go figure. 

For a brief moment Ara’s red stained lips curled into her signature impish smirk before disappearing over the tinted green bottle of Stella. Alex or “Doll” as Ara nicknamed the platinum blond seem amped to start partying when she returned from the restroom, unlike Howard who sloughed down in the worn seat almost broodily. If he could pull himself inward and hide in the void he had created Ara thinks that’s exactly what he would do. The audacious Lebanese girl could always count on Alex as a partner in crime though. Both of their natures were wild and eager to experience adventure especially what life had to offer in all its rigidness. Fantastic. 

[b]“I am.”[/b] Ara’s words replied to Madison’s question. [b]“No time to waste, let's make some memories.”[/b] She then added with a wink toward Riley and downed the third beer in no time before throwing a twenty dollar bill onto the tabletop’s crumb covered center. Although she had purchased only three beers the extra could pay for one of the others’ meal. After rising to head toward the door, her nimble fingers placed an undisclosed amount of money into the previous waiter’s back pocket. He had been arched over slightly to dish out the other patrons meal. “Thank you sweetheart.” Evan cooed. 

It was a little uncomfortable drinking in front of Declan since he steered clear of the contents, and sometimes the naturally tan girl felt guilty but it was difficult changing her bad habits. There had not been a time where one of the group approached the addict for an intervention. Perhaps it was just as uncomfortable for them to address her as it was for her to pretend she was not hooked on heroin. [i]It’s better this way.[/i] She could not bear to look some of them in the eye and confess that she could not stop…it was better pretending the fixation did not exist and that she did not crave it more than human affection. 

[i]Damn…maybe I do have a problem.[/i]

Ara decided to take a detour and could not bring herself to tell the others of her plans. It was a decent last meal with the group and she hoped they would all eventually be able to healthily cope with their pain. This realization was enough to send Ara to a treatment facility where she would learn a compleltly different lifestyle. She would not be able to hang around her outcast family any longer if she wished to stay clean. That was the price but hopefully they would understand someday. In order to save herself she had to move forward but turn her back on the people she loved.