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stevenuniversetanzanite · 4 years ago

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Second First Meeting (Sally x reader)

I got some dialogue from my directing class about a junkie named Sally you all can guess who I thought of. I think the dialogue is from an Australian tv or web series called Blue mountain. Anyway, I adapted the story so I could work in into a story.

As this is a one-shot for the sake of the story, I am forgetting time is a concept that applies to humans. You get to choose if you age like a normal human or you were turned into a vampire and are immortal. Whatever makes your experience more enjoyable- however, you have to age slightly after the leaving part.

This is a lot more dialogue than I normally do. So I hope it isn't too bad. Also, I've written for sally. She is a bit ooc but I feel like it works because none of it is set during the main duration of the season.

The story starts here:

"What are you doing?" You asked your girlfriend who you ran into unexpectedly on your way to a deal.

"Nothing" she said in a daze.

The woman in a leopard print tried to stumble past you, having places she needed to be that didn't concern you. She was happy until you interrupted her euphoric dream of a world her lasted dosage of drugs gave her. She'd found the stash in your shared apartment, knowing how to do it from when you showed her long ago when you first sold her drugs. Years had passed since your high school days, the two of you had fallen further into the world of junkies and quick fixes in order to feel something.

A month ago, you both promised each other you'd give up drugs and make a life for yourself. You'd finally seen the damage it had done to her, you and the people you sold drugs to. Most people you couldn't care about, but her, you'd do anything for. She was no longer on the 'beginner' stuff, moving on to higher doses, more frequent use and stronger drugs. She outdid you nowadays with her intact. You had lessoned your usage, the reason you got into the scene, economic problems were now fixed, you were wanning your dependence on the substances. Who knows, soon you might be able to get a normal job.

When you made your empty promises, you had the full intent on giving up that life, her fingers were crossed behind her back. You'd half kept your promise, you still sold on the side, but you kept telling yourself that you'd stop soon. You just needed to get rid of the stock. You said that last batch. A part of the newest batch was what was giving your girlfriend her high.

"What are you doing here?" You were a quarter of a block away from where you dealled, standing outside the Hotel Cortez.

"I just came to visit some friends. I just wanted to get out of the house!"

"What, so you come here? What are you here for?" You spot her bag, having a hunch as to why she was there, you snatched her bag to search it.

"What am I supposed to do? Sit at home and watch Days of our Lives all day?!" Sally yelled as she attempted to get her bag back, but you push her back.

You throw the bag to the ground and ask, "You using something huh? Show me your arm." You grabbed her arm. She yanked her arm about, but you held onto her with a firm grip.

"Jesus Christ Y/n, you're a stupid arsehole! Let go!" Sally gets out of your grasp and walks over to her belongings and began to off.

"Where you going?" You went after her to stop her from leaving both you and the situation, catching the handle of her bag and holding her back. "Why don't you show me what's in the bag."

"There's nothing in the bag!" She cried. You glared into her eyes, scanning her for anything that would tell you that she was lying. You couldn't see anything. You went to your next guess. "You up here screwing some guy? How the hell am I supposed to trust you? How am I supposed to trust you Sal?"

"I hate all this shit! You're so bloody jealous!"

"Junkies....You're all bloody junkies!" You were no better and the fact that she didn't point it out, still astonishes you. She was two caught up with the personal attack to come up with something better. You'd never called her a junkie before though you both at one point met the criteria.

"I'm not a bloody junkie!"

"Well you're an addict. What's the difference?"

"I know what I am, you get it right."

"You know what? You whatever the fuck you want. Go blow some dude for all I care."

"Okay, I will."

"Good, have fun."

She took your advice but when she came home, there was nothing left. All your stuff was gone. No note detailing where you'd gone. The apartment was trashed, and all her stuff was shoved into a box near the front door.

She never saw you in all your favourite spots or the alleys you used to deal. Your existence was erased from the world, the only evidence that you existed was her memories. Maybe you were an hallucination the whole time?

Ever since she sought out potential partners with a desperate need to be loved. It was fine at first. She pretended to forget you, found her true path in music and even got a job composting for her friends one of her favourite musicians. She found herself needed more then drugs, she never realised that you, yourself was a drug to her, the love you gave her, she craved it and for a fraction of a moment she found it in the duo. They two gave her a new life from one she was trying to escape. You had helped her with her initial problems, a bad experience in youth and these two helped her to forget you if only your face.

The night you disappeared from the world you decided to go into the Hotel Cortez for some drinks. A bold lady sat reading a newspaper at the reception desk. She peered up from paper to give you a once over. Your hands were stuffed in your vinyl coat to keep them warm. You made your way straight over to the desk and asked how much a room was in your sweetest sounding voice you could muster up. After being told, you pulled out a wad of cash and handed her the amount. She gave you an odd look at the amount you carried on you. You payed her no mind. Waiting for her to fetch you the key to your room before asking her about the status of the bar, "Is the bar opened?"

Once checking out your room and tidying yourself up you headed down to the bar. The same woman form before was now behind the bar tending to it. "You don't have much staff?"

"Not many people stay here at once."

"That's a shame, it's a cute hotel. Very vintage."

Liz asked what drink you wanted then went to prepare it. "So, what made you decided to stay with us, Y/n?" You told her your name when you reserved your room.

"Had a fight with my girlfriend?"

"Got kicked out?"

"No, I just don't want to go home and face her yet." The woman, who's name you learned was Liz handed you a drink.

You spoke to her for hours, admitting things that you'd told no one. She gave her outsiders perspective on your situation and to put it simply, maybe Sally wasn't the right girl for you. You wanted to move to grander places and your half success showed progress. You would have to cut all ties to that lifestyle in order to move on completely. You mentioned to her a business propose a family member offered you that you were considering taking up but didn't because you knew you wouldn't be able to do it with your current life. It involved you moving across the country which you couldn't afford before, but if you sold your apartment and used the money for plan tickets you might be able to make it work.

You didn't know if the offer was still available, Liz told you all you had to do was call up the person and ask. She offered you encouragement in doing so and even offered you a free drink if you did it.

Your family member was ecstatic that you accepted the offer, preparing a space for you when you arrived. Said member knew of your struggles and was willing to help you out of your rut, as well as offer a job helping with their fashion line. You were a business person, you knew the trade which was what made you a great drug dealer to begin with, it would be a different scene but all you could do was hope you were a fast learner.

You spent your last week in room 64 trying off loose ends so you could start anew.

Years later Sally found herself trapped in the inner walls of a hotel, haunting the grounds, finding pleasure in killing whomever she pleased in whatever way she like. Her choice, as with most things, was with drugs. Her face was permanently stained with tear tracks darkened by her runny mascara.

It was no longer the 80's. Decades had passed, and you found yourself back in Downtown LA. You were there on business, one of your companies provided funding for Will Drake's fashion line for years. You saw potential in his works and helped him by providing resources. His newest fashion show was exclusive, but you managed to easily get a spot. You'd heard that the fashion designer had a new 'face' for his brand. You'd never met the person face to face, but the name was familiar, Liz Taylor. It must have been a common name. You were surprised when you discovered Will Drake wasn't the one to request for your invitation but Liz. You were happy for the invitation none the less. It didn't strike you until you entered the newly renovated hotel Cortez who Liz Taylor was.

There were very few invinations and all phones and cameras a band making the whole show more intriguing. The models were unusual, the variety was a present surprise. One woman sent you back into your past. You audibly choked catching the attention of a few of the people around you. You brush them off and watched on.

At the end of the show, all the models walked out to show of their outfits one last time. The models lined the edges of the runway. The model resembling your past love stopped in front of you. She looked out into the far back of the audience. Her eyes glaze over you and she stiffens, tilting her head slightly in confusion but trying to act professional. The audience abrupted in applause, you delayed for a moment before following in the others lead. You maintained eye contact until she had to turn to leave the stage. You hit the open bar as soon as you could, wanting to forget what just happened. You'd downed a couple drinks before you heard the familiar voice from beside you.

"Hello there," the carbon copy purred.

"Hello," you squeaked out before downing another drink. She smirked. You stared into her eyes, wanting to quiver under the wait and power of them. "Drink?" you said pointing to the alcohol.

She chuckled, before getting some for herself. "You seemed mighty fascinated in me while on stage. I thought I would return the favour."

"Well, in that case. How do I look?"

"Not bad. A bit older than I'd usually go for."

"Is that a bad thing?"

"Not nearly. More experience."

"I guess you could say-"

"L/n-" your attention snapped form the timeless relect in front of you to the new face of Will Drake but an old face to you. What was with this looking vintage place and the past. Sally reacted to your surname even going so far as to repeat it.

"Liz, I wanted to congratulate both you and Drake on an amazing show. However, I never expected any less." You said shaking the woman's hand. "I assume you'll pass on the praise to Will Drake yourself as he's become recluse from the public eye."

"Of course, L/n. I see you met one of our models. I hope Sally isn't give you any trouble."

"Sally?" Your eyes darted back to her. A look of bewilderment on your face. How could it be? Liz's eyes dart between the two of you. You both shared the same expression. She knew she was missing something. "What's your last name?"

"Mckenna."

"Oh fuck- Shit. How is it you? Oh god."

"Y/n? You got old."

"You haven't aged a day."

"You two know each other?" Liz asked.

"I was her dealer-" "She was my girlfriend-" you spoke at the same time. Liz understood immediate, remembering your tale from decades prior. You'd called her Sal the whole time you were talking about her, it could have been short for anything. From all the stories Sally had spat out in one of her angry drunk sessions Liz had all the clues to piece it together sooner.

"Was I nothing to you?" Sally asked. "I should have guessed when you abandoned me-"

"Sally, quiet down-" some of the guests turned to when hearing her yell.

"No- don't you dare talk to me-"

"You can yell at me all you want, just not out here." Here eyes followed yours catching the stared of the crowd around them. She had to stop herself from snapping at them. She didn't want to ruin Liz's show.

Even though she had all this anger built up, from your general presence being back a time she had recently gotten over. She'd wait until your both alone to tear you into shreds.

"We can go to my room." Sally grumbled before grabbing arm to tug me off. Liz warned her not to harm me as she was better than that (also it would affect business). I told Liz I was used to 'her type' which enraged Sally more. Your ex dragged me all the way to the elevator before tossing me inside and selecting the level. "You're lucky this isn't the last show they had here." you didn't know what she meant by that. Was she a different person then? Had she changed since then? You knew she was implying something but weren't exactly sure what.

By the time she reached her destination she'd didn't want to slit your throat at the sight of you.

She pulled you to room 64, wait this was your room, why was she taking you to your room? She pulled out a key and opened the room. You entered before her, noticing all your belongs in the same place as they were normally along with the random keyboard in the room.

"You want to explain why you have the key to my room?"

"It's my room."

You pulled out your key and showed her it. "Liz?" she asked. You assume she meant the receptionist.

"Iris, I believe or at least she was the one who gave me the key."

"They must have run out of rooms and started evening our rooms away."

"Why would they give your rooms away if there yours?"

"Long story."

"Make it short."

"I don't have to answer to you."

"How about a question for a question?"

"Fine."

"You answer mine first."

"I don't think you'll believe me-"

"That's not an answer. I don't have to believe you; I just want the truth."

"What was your question again?"

"Why did they give away your room if it's yours?"

"Right. I'm dead."

"You're right, I don't believe you."

"Told you."

"Keep going."

She rose her brow. You didn't believe her, yet you wanted to keep listening. "As we are dead and can't move on from this place, we haunt this hellhole."

"There's more ghosts?"

Sally nodded. "That's two questions. My turn, why did you leave me?"

"I don't know a good answer do that." Sally was going to make a snappy comment, but you kept talking. "Short answer, I wanted more, and my life was holding me back. I was torn between the opportunity of a lifetime and life with you. I got an outsiders opinion and they helped me figure out I couldn't have it all and be with you."

"Were you happy?"

"For a bit. It was hard at first with rehabilitation and learning to fit into a life I hadn't had in years. It's different on the other side. I had something holding me back to my old life, a loose end I never resolved."

"What was that?"

"You. I never told you I left. I felt guilty for not telling you. Always wondered what happened to you but never dared to find you."

"Scared I'd pull you back in?"

"No, I was scared I made a mistake."

"You did."

"I don't think there was a good option. I'd lose either way."

"What about you? What have you made of yourself?"

"Other than a ghost? I perused music."

"Good for you, you were always talking about doing that."

She ended up telling her whole life story up until getting stuck into the hotel. She spoke about how she was making music with Patti Smith in the 1980s, but she got fired from the project. She went on about how her addiction got worse and with the loss of you and abandonment issues were enhanced. She mentioned how she was working with Patti Smith for a while at the time before you left but never mentioned it because she wanted it to be a surprise. In 1993, she was a songwriter and had a threesome one night with her friends, a couple of musicians. Sally injected all of them with heroin and in a bizarre drug-induced psychosis, developed the idea to sew all of them together. Her friends died in the process. She was trapped for three days whilst lying trapped next to the corpse of her friends. While being tortured by something she called an 'Addiction Demon.' You didn't understand why she was telling you about this even, but you listened nevertheless. For a moment, it seemed like old times, you were entranced by every word. She told you about being murdered in 1994 when a guy, iris' son, died from an overdose, much to Sally's indifference. Iris pushed her out the window. She goes on to say, now the two where okay. Iris ended up introducing Sally to the internet and showing her a world she never thought she could have again.

"Did you move on?" She was unsure as you didn't mention anyone in your tale of the past, while she went into detail- mainly because she couldn't harm you, so it seemed like the second-best option. She hoped it made you jealous.

"Couldn't." Your answer was short. You didn't want to go into depth about your lack of interest in anyone besides her, so you lied. "Too busy."

Once the two of you were done, you sat in silence. No more questions among the two, closure on both your ends. So, what now?

Part 2

Considering doing a part two as 2 people on wattpad wanted me to. However I have no idea where to go from here.

#sally mckenna x reader #hypodermic sally x reader

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