As he sat on the floor, Zach wondered at the back of his head if, perhaps, Narcissus hated himself right before he turned into a white and gold flower. After all, he brought his death upon himself. Like a suicide. His preoccupation with himself burned and eventually consumed him from the inside out. Vaguely, Zach also wondered if this hatred could be stronger than how he felt for himself that very moment.
But probably not. It was unlikely. If they were in a competition, Zach would win the battle of 'Which Selfish Bastard Hates Himself More' hands down.
A humored chuckle vibrated in Zach’s chest.
The singer put his fingers up to his mouth. He had a cigarette tucked between his long and bony fingers. He bit at the nicotine stick and took a deep drag of it. Smoke came filling his lungs, an
