Cassie is self-sabotaging, a dry sense of humour, a sultry melody, a sarcastic remark. She's a dead gaze, smudged eyeliner, a garden of withering red tulips, and... an addict. 

Etienne is indecisive, anxious, classically handsome, a teller of great stories. He's a smile that doesn't reach the eyes, a lit cigarette, an alternative rock song, and a bad friend.  

It all started when they were only six years old. And it hasn't stopped. It keeps happening. They weave in and out of each other's lives, with their strange connection to blame. Their bond is both strengthened and weakened by their shared traumas. Their relationship is a ballad about codependency and the electricity of first love. 

Their lives are an unmanageable mess that sees them dwell in the world of drugs, depression, and the multitude of young women being found dead in the Merseyside Area. They each must confront their faith in second chances, fate, and circumstance. 

                                                         ― ― ― ― ― 

 And he's somewhere in the middle. But you can also find him at the beginning, and he'll be waiting for you by the end. He's everywhere. He is good with ropes, great at sketching, addicted to pornographic content. He hates his wife, hates his son, knows how to avoid leaving fingerprints on his victims.

ON MOUNT EVEREST WITH YOU.

"This is a good sign, having a broken heart. It means we have tried for something." 


― Elizabeth Gilbert, Eat, Pray, Love: One Woman's Search for Everything Across Italy, India and Indonesia 


WE fell apart only five days after the party. 


 It all began due to something as absurdly insignificant as my PASS card, which I'd assumed I had left in her bedroom because, earlier that week, we had compared our photographs. When I failed to find it in my wallet, I naturally believed it would be amongst her belongings. 


 I did find it. Right before I found a small, see-through zip bag with one little pill inside. 


 I'd never really been one to care for drugs outside of parties, but I knew it was highly unlikely that she had, at any given point, bought a single pill for future consumption. I knew that she had already used the rest, however many they were. 


 I knew she had relapsed. I had suspected it for the past three days. 


Chapter Twenty-Four.