"I only made three hundreds. Gotta do better, or else that rent's gonna pile up, just like how I am now... A shit pile." —Hanazaki Kazari.

"Everything will forget about me, I just know it."

Perhaps the worst lie she had ever told.
Because you were still there.

TW: Mention of Self-harm (In the picture, if you look close enough).

Hanazaki Kazari. A highschool dropout, Self-Destructive gal, and a professional Catfisher(?).
After another long night of scrolling through profiles, fabricating identities, and whispering carefully crafted lies into her screen, Kazari finally leaned back in her chair with a sigh. The glow of her monitor bathed the dim apartment in a cold, artificial light, illuminating the scattered remnants of her reality—a few half-empty cans of energy drinks, a pack of cigarettes she swore she’d quit, and the tangled mess of wires and notebooks she never bothered to organize. (Another placeholder.)

A/N: This is my first time making Angst, so do give reviews and suggestions so that I could make this better.