Bulimic Dorian lol....

So the girl's name is melody and like, people will sleep with her in exchange for drugs. And dorian knows but likes her anyways. This is what we got so far. It's a little out of order cause I didn't post her parts that didn't have dorian mentioned.

Melody sighed shaking her head. Slowly she sat up dragging her designer garments off the floor,quickly getting dressed. Dorian was merely her best friend. If he liked her then surely she would know. Unless,of course she didn't realize that he was affectionate towards her. Why would the guards even rat them out, that would be 1,000$ down the drain. Her eyes glazed over at the sight of coke. "I think it's been 3 days, I would sell my soul for all the coke in the world." Melody eagerly snorts the powder and grits her teeth together. If she was Superman then cocaine would be her Kryptonite. Cocaine is the one drug that had managed to destroy her body. No wonder why so many people have overdosed while doing coke, it's hard to know when to stop. Turning her head, Melody noticed that the sunlight was at the horizon. "I have to head back. There's some business I have to handle." Melody touches her lips to his for a long wet kiss. Cautiously she opened the door and slipped into the hallway. Tip toeing, she grazed her hands along the wall to where it was loose,quietly pulling out a cube of Sheetrock. Inside the hollow opening contained a medicine bottle containing a couple grams of coke. Taking the plastic bottle,Melody dawdled back into her quarters. Like a mad man, she pried oped the container pouring about a gram onto the side table and crouched down. Her nose rubbed against the solid wood as she snorted intensely. Picking up a small piece of floor board, Melody tossed the bottle under it and picked up a cigarette and lighter.




Every now and then her and Dorian would go out to take a smoke break. She really need it after the night she had. Camels were her poison. The rain slapped against her window violently. February was always the rainiest season in Los Angeles. Melody cracked open her wardrobe and picked out a soft white sweater, simple black pants, and platform sneakers. The Center allowed the patients to wear their own clothes, so that they would feel more at home. Melody made her way back into the corridor and then to one of the shaded balconies. It would ruin everything if her hair were to get soaked by the rain, nevertheless the now lighted cigarette. Melodys' physique rested again the sturdy wood. Her parents never bothered to visit her, they're too busy taking trips all around the world. To them, addiction is an easy thing to fix,but that's not always true. In fact Rehab has made it even easier for her to do drugs. Just sneak the guards a couple hundred dollars and the white powder comes to her. Life is easier here as well, everybody else just cleans and cooks, but the patients are just left to relax or even go swimming when the weather calls for it. Melody has another 120 days on the road to sobriety, you can bet that she won't spend them alone and sober.

There really was nothing better than a cigarette after a good purge. Dorian took a long puff, the taste of tobacco mingled well with the fresh minty taste of his toothpaste. He had a ritual of course. Most people who were affiliated with the same illness as he usually did. This was the final step, something that had to be done before he could finally venture to bed. He took each drag deep, the ember growing bright red and illuminating his face against the dark blue of the stormy sky.

The rain had been coming down hard all night, and now it seemed to be getting worse. The trees bent and groaned under the weight of the wind and Dorian took a step back to avoid the fine mist which was now spraying in his direction. He stood flush against the house, but with the force of the wind, the fat droplets were reaching him even there.

He retreated around the side of the building to avoid getting wet. His cigarette was done and in moments he would finally be able to sleep. His eyelids grew heavy with the thought as he started back inside, the screen door shutting behind him with a resounding slap

Dorian lay on his back, staring at the ceiling. He had been hoping to fall asleep to the hard pitter patter of rain but of course, as soon as he went to lie down it finally began to slow. He found it hard to fall asleep to the dull white noise of the center. He'd usually have his iPod to listen to, but it had been confiscated after having made another patient cry.

"It's a privilege, not a right Mr. Young" The nurse had said when she took it. Dorian had almost snapped back at her but he didn't at the risk of losing his free time too. Instead to spite her, and all the progress he had made, he started purging again.

No one really cared though. It didn't seem like anyone in the center was interested in making any real progress. But wasn't that just the ugly side of addiction? Dorian forced himself to rise, his head hung limp at his chest as he gathered his waning energy with the effort to rise. If he couldn't sleep he might as well do something productive.

He rose and pulled a thick burgundy sweater from the chair in his room. Melody should be settled by now he thought. He hadn't seen her yet, usually they would at least meet on balcony to say goodnight. He'd never admit that he had gone through most of his pack waiting for her. Maybe soon the nurses would try to take his cigarettes away from him too, claiming that his addiction had just manifested itself in a new way. Did anyone ever leave this place successfully?

He shrugged the sweater on and grabbed the near empty pack and the book he was currently reading from his bedside table then started towards Melody's room.

Everyone's room was in the same layout so it was natural to navigate. Melody's room had a few more secrets though. He stepped inside and looked at condition of it. Her sheets were messed as usual and there was clothing on the floor. He tossed his things on to the dresser and began tidying up.

With the bed made and the clothes picked up he sat cross-legged on her bed to read until she showed up.

Melody let out a sigh of relief. There weren't a lot of people in this facility who were trustworthy. Looking down she shook her head and rolled her eyes. "If you say so."It wasn't necessarily difficult to make your way out, but with temptation surrounding everyone... "I'm pretty sure I have at least one pill left, I'll get to you later on that. Dorian is probably waiting on me somewhere, so I catch up with you in a few." She walked off into the main building letting her heart and feet lead the way. Since Melody didn't get the chance to catch up with Dorian on the balcony, she would try to somewhere else. They both relapse fairly often, so they've gotten to know each other over some time. She entered the corridor then entered her room, where she found Dorian sitting on a freshly made bed. Her clothes had been neatly folded and put away as well. Melody was never used to picking up after herself. Her family had several maids that did the cooking,cleaning,and washing. As well as a chauffeur for the driving. She sat down gently next to him. "What are you reading?" Her voice was soft, the rush of coke had slowly tapered off. The blonde haired girl thought back to earlier that morning about what Stephen had stated. She had never really noticed any affection other than them being close friends. They knew everything about each other, past, present, and perhaps the future. His family didn't seem to great also, but at least they care, a little too much.




xxxxxHer face showed concern. "Where were you this morning?" She didn't realized until now how much she cared about him, maybe even more than she cared about getting her fix. Maybe. He was one of the people that actually cared about all the drugs she did. Melody remembered the time that she came home piss drunk and on cloud 9. Her mother only glanced at her and then called for her childhood nanny ,Isabelle, to take care of her trash that she called a daughter. The coke filled the hole that her family carved in her heart. Isabelle was the closest thing to a mother that she could get. At this point she couldn't imagine anyone wanting her as a daughter. All melody would do was get high and skip school. That's the only life she knew,and even now it was destroying her body and reputation,if she had one at this point. Surprisingly, Melody wasn't much of an emotional person. The drugs controlled her thoughts and what she would accomplish in life, if anything. She had already had a heart attack, one more and that would be the end. No future. Nothing. Just a reminder of what could've been. Her attention came back on Dorian. Maybe he did go outside, and she was just too busy with James, a little too busy.

Dorian's eyes continued to travel across the page as she nestled down beside him. He heard the questions but wasn't ready to acknowledge her. Instead he reached out and blindly placed his hand on her thigh, his thumb rubbed small circles as he read through to the conclusion of the page. "Some book I found" He muttered when he was done "Here, listen to this." He spread the book across his lap and read the excerpt for her.

His voice was clear and steady as he read, some of his accent slipping out as he did so. The piece was a flowery narrative about a tropical country that they had just been talking about visiting the week before.

The way his relationship with Melody had evolved was an odd one. When Melody first approached him he hadn't liked her. They had never had a conversation before but that didn't mean he didn't catch wind of the rumors surrounding her. Another rich girl getting high off of her parent's money. Lots of sex and lots of drugs and lots of money. Toxic things she had managed to bring in to the facility.

While she didn't give him many reasons to like her, he soon learned there was more to her than just the rumors.

It started out slow, coincidental meetings in the middle of the night when they both snuck outside for a smoke. He would be finishing up his nightly routine, and she would be finishing up with her customers. It was like clock work. It was inevitable that they would start talking and soon they were meeting up with the intent to do just that.

It began to bleed in to the day time. He found he could talk to her about anything. He had told her about the darkest parts of his childhood and she had told him hers. They knew each other well.

He looked up from the book, his stormy eyes searching hers for a reaction, but he paused and his head cocked to the side slightly "You're high." he stated plainly.

The exerpt being read to her was a piece of the past she wanted in the future. Long bright sunny days on the beach where she could get high off of life and the occasional Bahama Mama. She had the money to go,but she couldn't as long as she was stuck in Rehab. The hand that ever so gently circled her thigh was bruised on the knuckles. Dorian had been helping get off of coke,and in return she was there every step of the way to stop binge eating and purging. Melody loved down at his right hand."And you've been purging." Scars were prominently place on his pointer and middle finger. She could recognize the signs even in her dazed state."I'm sorry,I just..." She looked down at the floor,apologizing for bringing it up and returning back to queen cocaine. Neither of them like there habits but it was something that they couldn't control anymore,that's why they always ended up back here. "I've been trying to quit but i caved in,and plus I've been getting new customers,it's stressful." She spoke trying to explain her recklessness. Melody was always a very impulsive person,so peer pressure always got to her. Resting a head on his shoulder,she started tearing up . Only a single drop could escape her eyes and she quickly wiped it away. Emotions were never her thing,the slightest feeling urged her to use again. "Sometimes I think that I may never get out of here. I do such horrible things."




xxxxxDeep down she knew everything she did was horrible,everyone around her did. When she was 14 her mother sat her down on there velvet lined chaise lounge and told Melody how big of a disappointment she turned out to be. At that time she kept her composure,but it was only until now that she could feel the surge of emotions and heartbreak. The only people in the facility that actually genuinely like her for being her were Arden and Dorian. One time Dorian found her passed out on her floor and practically nursed her back to help so that the nurses wouldn't extend her stay. She had just began her life and it was about to end. Depression came along with doing coke. If you weren't high then you would be low. Drained of energy and suicidal. If she were to endure another heart attack she would need a heart transplant,but once they would screen her for narcotics her chances of living would be 3 percent to nothing. Luckily she would rather die doing something she loved than having to go through a painful death. In the after life Melody had always hoped that God and Tony Montana from Scarface would great her and heaven would be surrounded my kilos of cocaine. Even she would admit the idea was pretty stupid,but a girl can dream. Scarface was her favorite movie. It inspired her to become a part of her little own drug trade,without having to be shot in her mansion.

Dorian flinched at her response and quickly averted his gaze. Instinctively he balled his hand in to a fist and buried it in the blankets between them. He'd have to start using his tooth brush again. He hated the feeling of the hard plastic at the back of his throat. Why use that when his fingers could bend into the perfect little curve. Always yielding instant results. He wouldn't though, but Mia had such an alluring little voice.

"No, Melody-," Dorian started as he quickly abandoned his book to lift her face to his. "It happens. It's fine. You did really good this week." His fingers spread back in to her hair, pushing the pale strands behind her ear and his gaze softened as he regarded her. "Three days right? That's amazing. You did better than me"

He sighed and let his hand fall, he hadn't meant to bring it up. He never wanted to guilt her for her addiction. It was a tactic that did more damage than good. He knew what it felt like to have his illness thrown back in to his face all too well. It was one of those things that he tried to bury deep, to forget about. He could forget about the nurses that would check his pockets for food, the ones who would follow him to the bathroom, or the even ones who would explore his mouth with gloved fingers. But he couldn't forget the shame that followed every time the euphoria left him after a good old fashioned binge and purge.

"You'll get out of here. We both will." He whispered. It was something he said often but it was something he sincerely believed in. Bulimia was just a chapter in his life that had been forced open by his mother, one that he was now desperately trying to close. She had written too much of his life already, he wouldn't allow her to write anymore.

It had only been during family dinners that Dorian's mother would finally let him eat. Since her first marriage had ended due to her eccentricities she was more careful to hide them around her new husband. She would play the perfect housewife, always cooking and cleaning. In the evenings they would dine together as a family. Even as a kid Dorian quickly grew tired of putting up the charade of a happy loving family for his step father. He knew he didn't care about them if he had he wouldn't he have noticed his mother's behavior? After every meal she would insist on certain activities for Dorian, a walk after breakfast, gardening after lunch and a shower immediately after dinner. All things she instructed he do so he could purge in private. He knew he had to leave.

So as soon as he able he had moved out, left the grand state of Texas for California.The first few weeks of being on his own he was finally able to eat normally, but it never rested well with him.The sensation of anything sitting in his stomach felt unnatural to Dorian. He started purging just to purge. Sometimes nothing but saliva and bile pouring from his agitated throat. His mother's hand had followed him here and overcoming this illness was the only way he could finally be rid of her. He wanted Melody to have that freedom from her past too.

"This time we'll make it"