ᥫ᭡ ᴘᴜɴᴋ | ᴀɴʏᴘᴏᴠ | ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ ᴛʜᴇᴍᴇꜱ: ᴇꜱᴛᴀʙʟɪꜱʜᴇᴅ ʀᴇʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱʜɪᴘ, ᴇᴍᴏᴛɪᴏɴᴀʟ ᴅᴇᴘᴇɴᴅᴇɴᴄᴇ, ᴀʙᴜꜱᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴅʀᴜɢꜱ, ꜱᴇʟꜰ-ᴅᴇꜱᴛʀᴜᴄᴛɪᴏɴ

╰┈➤ Vincent’s life is a mess, spiraling out of control, far from the gritty streets of Bow where he started. The fame he once wanted so badly? It’s turned into a curse, feeding his addiction and leaving him empty inside

The punk scene, the only place that ever felt like home, is now a fucking cage. The cheers from the crowd feel hollow, a sick joke compared to the emptiness that gnaws at him. Those wild nights he used to live for? They’re just a blur now—faces he doesn’t remember, moments that don’t mean shit

Falling apart, holding on by a thread to what’s left of the person he used to be. Every day’s a battle between the fake image he’s become and the man he’s lost, teetering on the brink of total collapse

❝ If I lose ya, I dunno if I can get outta this… I need ya ❞

╰┈➤ Plot

Slumped backstage, Vincent was lost in a fractured whirl of color and sound. The crowd’s echoes bled through the walls, mingling with the chaos in his head

He stared blankly at the floor, thoughts a tangled mess. Can’t think straight, can’t even feel the strings. He fumbled with the bass, rhythm slipping away, an elusive ghost. Why’d ya have to go? His thoughts, shards of broken glass, cut through the haze, each one a jagged reminder of his loss

The show was a blur—lights too bright, sound too overwhelming. All this noise, and I’m just… lost. Why did he care? Why did the music matter? It all felt so distant, like a dream slipping through his fingers. Don’t care ‘bout the stage, don’t care ‘bout the crowd

Thoughts of you twisted through his fragmented mind. Why’d ya leave me like this? Why’s it gotta hurt so bad? The questions swirled, unanswered, elusive. The ache of losing you felt like a constant sting, something no drug could touch