“Hey, uh....you didn’t happen to see a guy with messy blonde hair, did you? A little shorter than me, light brown eyes?” 

                                         ( AESTHETICS  → vcgabond )

It’s alright. I know she didn’t mean it, she was just worried. We all are. It’s a rough day for us and is probably gonna be a really rough weekend. I probably will when she comes home from the hospital tbh. 

lost, that’s it - she’s fricking lost. so what’s the best course of action on a night like this?  go  to  the  nearest  club,  get drunk, and wake up in a new location with hopefully better luck.  how she’s survived this long is anyone’s guess.  it’s  a  dingy place with a loud bass and the unsavory types; but she doesn’t care.   reason one hundred and seventy five that if she makes it to thirty it’ll be nothing short of a miracle. sitting at the bar she can’t help but raise a brow at a man that sat a few stools away. ‘what ‘appened t’ah ye face?’

[SMS]- I wouldn’t have taken the deal for less than two mil. 😉

[SMS]- Raise the reward or it’s off. I want thrice your offer. Haywood ain’t just some streetrat. If you want him gone, I want millions. Simple as that.

     “Then why don’t you just go ahead and do it, huh!? Just go ahead and do it! It wouldn’t matter anyway!”