Categories > Celebrities > Linkin Park
Breaking the Habit
0 reviewsA chance encounter between two similar people leads to romance for Linkin Park's front man Chester Bennington and a recovering addict named Leah McVeigh. Along the way, Chester gets wrapped up in h...
0Unrated
The last thing Leah wanted to do on her first day of freedom was sit in a room full of other addicts and listen to their sob stories. She had already spent 90 days in man-made hell just like this, and wasn't looking forward to six more month of narcotics anonymous.
One by one they went down around the circle and introduced themselves...identifying who they are.
Her eye just so happen to catch the man who spoke next.
"The name's Chester," there was pause, almost hesitating to admit to his own problem. "And I'm a crystal meth and cocaine addict."
Addict. Leah hated that word. It made her feel so powerless and shameful. And she wasn't any of those. In her mind, she was just a twenty-eight year old with problems and found a way to mask her emotions.
To her, an addict was the kind of person you saw on the streets, homeless and jobless begging for money at the bus stop.
She wasn't any of those. Leah was a successful hair-dresser living in a nice townhouse in LA. She didn't need to beg for money and had bank accounts full of money in both California and her hometown of Chicago.
"I'm Leah." It was her turn. "And I'm a crystal meth addict."
She left out the part about being an alcoholic.
And really the only thing keeping her coming to these stupid meetings was the fact she was facing thirty days in jail if she didn't go. All she could think about was getting her hands on her pipe and rock and getting laid.
Leah paid absolutely no attention to the others around her. Nor did she really care. She had always been the kind to keep to herself. Which is partly the reason why she is here in the first place.
When the hour was finished, she was the first one up from her chair and put her jacket on in lightening speed. She hated big crowds as well and she hated how they all congregated after to pat each other on the back and wish good luck and hope to stay sober until the next meeting.
Half the battle was actually coming to a meeting and now the other half was finding a sponsor. She never really understood that concept. Why would she call another recovering addict if she was having thoughts about getting high? You'd be twice as more likely to get with that person and try to score, Leah thought. She would rather talk to someone who has been sober their entire life.
It was raining outside when she stepped out. A cigarette dangled loosely between her lips as she fished for a lighter. The hood of her sweatshirt was pulled over her head cover her hair, which was dye a mixture of copper, brown and blonde. It was long, reaching past her breasts and she was proud of her full and voluptuous figure. Not to mention she has the brightest blue eyes a man had possibly has ever seen.
"Need a light?"
The voice behind her nearly scared her half to death. Leah turned around and met face to face with the man who had been sitting across from her in group.
"Um, yeah." she said.
After lighting her cancer stick, Leah handed the zippo back. "Thanks."
They smoked in silence, almost as if they were afraid of talking to each other.
"Your name's Leah, right?" he asked.
She nodded and blew the toxic smoke from her lungs. "Yeah. And Your Chester." Quickly she realized how creepy she sounded. "I'm good with names."
They both killed their cigarettes on the ground with their shoes. Leah felt like leaving, but the silence was so awkward she didn't know what she do.
"You wanna go get coffee? There's this coffee shop up the street."
She agreed.
The walk was quite but a little less weird. Chester opened the shop door and let Leah in first. Surprising, they both ordered black coffees with two sugars. Normally people like it loaded with cream and other artificial sweeteners. She liked hers bitter...just like her.
Her long blue polished nails tapped on the paper cup as they talked, smoked and laughed. She found it easy to talk to him once they broke the ice. But she always found it fun to hang with men who's arms were covered in ink.
"Who's Skoti?" He noticed the top of her wrist.
"My son," Leah traced the ink with her forefinger. "He lives back in Chicago with my ex-husband."
"Oh." Chester feared he hit a sore spot.
"Do you have kids?" Leah sipped the hot liquid from her cup.
"A son."
He wasn't about to tell her about his wife either. Chester too was hoping to get laid tonight.
And by the way things were looking he thought he would soon have to full the fame card. Chicks dig rockstars.
When both had finished their coffees and they had been kicked out of the coffee shop for closing time had come too quick. They found themselves walking aimlessly down the road when Chester offered to give Leah a ride home.
Again, she agreed.
She wasn't a two-bit whore and wasn't worried about being raped or cut up into a million pieces by the stranger she had met at narcotics anonymous.
And Chester was surprised to see she lived in such a nice neighborhood in the city of angels.
They lingered in the car for a few moments. The radio offered background noise and their light conversation continued. Tattoos and piercings were shown off and the stories behind them as well.
It was when Leah showed Chester the star behind her ear did things begin to get heavy. His lips dipped down and gently pressed against hers. She welcomed them and even added a little tongue once they became comfortable with one another. She felt his hand reach around to unclasp her bra, but Leah grabbed his hand before he could do so.
"We haven't even had a first date yet." A sly smile appeared on her lips.
He tried to defend his actions which only led to his blubbering like an idiot. She silenced him by placing a finger to his lips.
"Here," Chester pulled a pen from the center council of his car and grabbed her hand. "I'm sure you don't have a sponsor yet and mine is buggin' me to take someone under my wing. Gimme a call, when, you know, need to."
Leah looked at the ten numbers written on the top of her hand. She smiled.
"I will," She then kissed his cheek. "See you around, Chester Bennington."
Leah left, leaving Chester alone in the car and slightly surprised. She had know he was all along.
__________________________________________________________
A/N: THE NAME SKOTI, IS PRONOUNCED LIKE SCOTTI
One by one they went down around the circle and introduced themselves...identifying who they are.
Her eye just so happen to catch the man who spoke next.
"The name's Chester," there was pause, almost hesitating to admit to his own problem. "And I'm a crystal meth and cocaine addict."
Addict. Leah hated that word. It made her feel so powerless and shameful. And she wasn't any of those. In her mind, she was just a twenty-eight year old with problems and found a way to mask her emotions.
To her, an addict was the kind of person you saw on the streets, homeless and jobless begging for money at the bus stop.
She wasn't any of those. Leah was a successful hair-dresser living in a nice townhouse in LA. She didn't need to beg for money and had bank accounts full of money in both California and her hometown of Chicago.
"I'm Leah." It was her turn. "And I'm a crystal meth addict."
She left out the part about being an alcoholic.
And really the only thing keeping her coming to these stupid meetings was the fact she was facing thirty days in jail if she didn't go. All she could think about was getting her hands on her pipe and rock and getting laid.
Leah paid absolutely no attention to the others around her. Nor did she really care. She had always been the kind to keep to herself. Which is partly the reason why she is here in the first place.
When the hour was finished, she was the first one up from her chair and put her jacket on in lightening speed. She hated big crowds as well and she hated how they all congregated after to pat each other on the back and wish good luck and hope to stay sober until the next meeting.
Half the battle was actually coming to a meeting and now the other half was finding a sponsor. She never really understood that concept. Why would she call another recovering addict if she was having thoughts about getting high? You'd be twice as more likely to get with that person and try to score, Leah thought. She would rather talk to someone who has been sober their entire life.
It was raining outside when she stepped out. A cigarette dangled loosely between her lips as she fished for a lighter. The hood of her sweatshirt was pulled over her head cover her hair, which was dye a mixture of copper, brown and blonde. It was long, reaching past her breasts and she was proud of her full and voluptuous figure. Not to mention she has the brightest blue eyes a man had possibly has ever seen.
"Need a light?"
The voice behind her nearly scared her half to death. Leah turned around and met face to face with the man who had been sitting across from her in group.
"Um, yeah." she said.
After lighting her cancer stick, Leah handed the zippo back. "Thanks."
They smoked in silence, almost as if they were afraid of talking to each other.
"Your name's Leah, right?" he asked.
She nodded and blew the toxic smoke from her lungs. "Yeah. And Your Chester." Quickly she realized how creepy she sounded. "I'm good with names."
They both killed their cigarettes on the ground with their shoes. Leah felt like leaving, but the silence was so awkward she didn't know what she do.
"You wanna go get coffee? There's this coffee shop up the street."
She agreed.
The walk was quite but a little less weird. Chester opened the shop door and let Leah in first. Surprising, they both ordered black coffees with two sugars. Normally people like it loaded with cream and other artificial sweeteners. She liked hers bitter...just like her.
Her long blue polished nails tapped on the paper cup as they talked, smoked and laughed. She found it easy to talk to him once they broke the ice. But she always found it fun to hang with men who's arms were covered in ink.
"Who's Skoti?" He noticed the top of her wrist.
"My son," Leah traced the ink with her forefinger. "He lives back in Chicago with my ex-husband."
"Oh." Chester feared he hit a sore spot.
"Do you have kids?" Leah sipped the hot liquid from her cup.
"A son."
He wasn't about to tell her about his wife either. Chester too was hoping to get laid tonight.
And by the way things were looking he thought he would soon have to full the fame card. Chicks dig rockstars.
When both had finished their coffees and they had been kicked out of the coffee shop for closing time had come too quick. They found themselves walking aimlessly down the road when Chester offered to give Leah a ride home.
Again, she agreed.
She wasn't a two-bit whore and wasn't worried about being raped or cut up into a million pieces by the stranger she had met at narcotics anonymous.
And Chester was surprised to see she lived in such a nice neighborhood in the city of angels.
They lingered in the car for a few moments. The radio offered background noise and their light conversation continued. Tattoos and piercings were shown off and the stories behind them as well.
It was when Leah showed Chester the star behind her ear did things begin to get heavy. His lips dipped down and gently pressed against hers. She welcomed them and even added a little tongue once they became comfortable with one another. She felt his hand reach around to unclasp her bra, but Leah grabbed his hand before he could do so.
"We haven't even had a first date yet." A sly smile appeared on her lips.
He tried to defend his actions which only led to his blubbering like an idiot. She silenced him by placing a finger to his lips.
"Here," Chester pulled a pen from the center council of his car and grabbed her hand. "I'm sure you don't have a sponsor yet and mine is buggin' me to take someone under my wing. Gimme a call, when, you know, need to."
Leah looked at the ten numbers written on the top of her hand. She smiled.
"I will," She then kissed his cheek. "See you around, Chester Bennington."
Leah left, leaving Chester alone in the car and slightly surprised. She had know he was all along.
__________________________________________________________
A/N: THE NAME SKOTI, IS PRONOUNCED LIKE SCOTTI
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