Posts by never.

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[align=center][fancypost bgcolor=; bordercolor=; borderwidth=0px; font-family: times new roman; font-style: normal [fancypost bgcolor=transparent; border: 0px inset transparent; width: 500px;][hr][/fancypost]
[fancypost bgcolor=transparent; border: 0px inset transparent; width: 550px; cursor: url(http://media.tumblr.com/d8f7b2…ine_n7p8i5IQ241r6tyei.png), auto;][justify][sup][size=7pt]there were a few reasons why i hadn't gone out with the others, but the biggest was because tonight just felt different. i kind of wanted to get drunk, which was a totally new feeling. i've never wanted to get drunk or anything of the sorts ever. to me, getting drunk was a stupid thing to do, but i couldn't blame anyone for doing it. i mean, some people just wanted to have some fun, you know? then there were those others who were moping and mourning, and just wanted to drink to get their mind off things. i'd be one of those people - the sad and mopey ones, who wished they could have fun, but just couldn't. trust me, i had fun once in a while - not like that, you sexual deviant; and i mean that in the most affectionate of ways. i guess i... i just don't know, alright? tonight was different, and it was really gnawing at me. i mean, i knew at some point i'd break and get drunk, but i was hoping that wouldn't happen until i hit my thirties. whatever, it didn't really matter.

the past is in the past - i totally didn't get that from frozen - but i still couldn't help but think about it, you know? everyone thinks about the past, even if they're, well, past it. do you know what it's like to have someone befriend you and then have it turn out to be a big lie? like, they really make you believe that they're your best friend - you're only friend, but a really great one. they make you believe that they truly care for you, making you smile so big it hurt, only to leave you in the dust, laughing right in your face because you were so f.cking gullible. you were too trustworthy, and you'd believe anyone who said they liked you, that you were a 'pretty cool guy'. even now, i'm just as gullible as i was back then. back when i was in elementary school, middle school, and high school. no matter how many times it happened, i still trusted and believed people too easily; too much. my already broken heart had kept shattering over and over, again and again. and it finally took a toll on me, physically.

they shoved me in lockers, called me those stupid, horrible names that no one wanted to be called. they told me how much of a useless piece of sh.t i was, how i was so worthless, so frail and stupid. they told me i was selfish, and that i deserved to just die in a f.cking hole. they gave me those stupid swirlies, and beat me up so many times that i couldn't count them all. i can remember one time when a "friend" invited me to a party, only to end up beating the sh.t out of me with his buddies after dragging me into the forest near the house the actually party was at - yeah, the "friend' told me the party was in the forest, that people were having a bonfire. but when we got there; surprise surprise! there was half a dozen guys waiting there, all buff and at least a foot taller than me. i was like five feet when this happened, which was kind of an advantage, on their part. i might have been a fast runner, but do you honestly think i could outrun someone from the football team or track team? hell to the no. i could only wish.

the first time i stuck my fingers down my throat was at school, when someone just kept calling me fat, making up some creative ways to tell me just how fat i was. they told me how much uglier it made me, and that i should lay off the food for a while. which i did. i was thirteen when it all started, in eight f.cking grade. i had never eaten much, but starting that day i ate much, much less. i had gone about three days with absolutely no food, when it all started, and throughout those three days i purged five times. two the first, one the second, and two the third. the memory of the first time of me shoving my fingers down my throat is still clear and fresh in my mind, and for some reason, i actually didn't even want to let go of the memory. i know it's horrible and all, but i really couldn't care any less. and it'd only gotten worse from that point, going on for four days at a time without eating a single thing, at the longest. the most i'd purged in a day was probably three or four times, because it was a particularly sh.tty day for me. i can still remember that day, too, but i'm sure you really don't want to hear about it, or care at all. i'm not offended, don't worry. i totally understand.

oh boy, but when my mom and dad found out; that was one of the worst days of my life. they found out in my sophomore year; obviously in high school. i'd forgotten to close the door to my bedroom, and forgot to lock the door to my bathroom. they were probably calling up to me because it was movie night, but i just didn't hear because i was sobbing too hard and was really zoning out. from what i remember, they just came into my room, and probably heard me throwing my guts up well, my mom did, anyway. she'd jiggled the doorknob and opened the door right away when she realized it wasn't locked, and at that moment i was just shoving my fingers down my throat for the fifth time in the period of forty-five minutes that i was in the bathroom. she'd yelled for my dad, but they didn't take me to the hospital or anything when i had a panic attack, because i'd literally begged them not too. they're such great parents, and i love them so much. i'd stopped for six months, as said before, in my senior year, the therapy they'd put me through actually helping a little. but then the bullying got even worse, somehow, and everything just started up again. but i was more careful, and no one knows anymore.

i shewed all those thoughts away, thinking back to when hayden had responded to me. had he really not seen the corspe bride? it wasn't new, but maybe to him, it was. i forgot when it was made - probably 2006 or something. it was an awesome movie, to say the least. i was my all time favorite, next to the nightmare before christmas. i don't know, there's just something about tim burton movies that i just love. there's always music in all his movies, but that's only one reason why i love them so much. they were just pretty badass movies, if you asked me. i mean, those characters are so unique, and the way they're made is just so freaking cool. it's like clay, or something, and it's amazing how they are animated so well. the way their mouths move in perfect sync to the words, and the way each character has this one thing that's just so special about them. the movies weren't just for kids, and anyone who said they were was stupid. they were for people of all ages, like the avengers, or spider-man - just better.

i could talk about tim burton movies all night and all day for weeks, if you'd let me, but i'm sure you'd be bored within minutes. i flinched just a little, finally coming back to reality when hearing his voice. his oddly soothing voice. i rolled my eyes at myself before turning my head in his direction, rubbing my head with one hand, practically petting my own head. i let out a not even half-hearted huff of a laugh at his rhetorical question, only humming in response. it wasn't too odd that i found his voice to be soothing, was it? i mean, it was just so velvety. no matter what tone he used, it just seemed so soft and gentle, kind of like my own, but just a bit louder. my voice, i admit, was kind of squeaky and feminine. it wasn't as soft as hayden's, but my band mates always teased me about how gentle my voice was; how feminine it was. i didn't really care, because i knew damn well how feminine it was. i had this little british accent with some of my words - like not all of my words, but a select few of them. probably made my voice even more feminine, but oh well. whatever.

i let out a little giggle at his first statement, a little bit nervous. i rolled my eyes and nodded my head a little, leaning against the door after shutting it. trust me, i wanted to lay down and be really f.cking lazy, but it felt awkward being across from the other guy, just... looking at him. i kept my gaze on the floor, bringing a covered hand up and chewing on the sleeve. one of the sides of the hoodie on my shoulder slipped down a little, so i just tensed my shoulders a little more so it'd stay put. i felt like a f.cking girl, but i guess it is my fault. i shewed the thought away, like i did with a lot of my thoughts, letting out a silent sigh. i curled and uncurled my toes, then started rocking back and forth on my heels. i continued chewing on my sleeve, my other arm hanging by my side, and i looked over to hayden, who i could still see just relaxing on his bunk. i was pretty sure no one had claimed that bunk yet - hurrah.

don't get me wrong, hayden was such a nice guy. i just... i was starting to form some trust issues, wasn't i? like, what if he was really just a cocky dickhead, and befriended me, then just started ignoring me? what if he was only pretending to be nice - to me, anyway - just for the sake of the other guys? no. nah. i really don't believe any of that; so stupid. i sniffled, rubbing my nose with the back of my wrist, still chewing on my sleeve out of old habit. i kept back a grumble when my stomach growled, though silently, at the word 'popcorn'. didn't we have popcorn? i think jace brought some, so i'll just steal it from his bag. and that's what i did.

dammit, he had a top bunk.

i grunted, shuffling back over to the bunks. i stopped chewing on my sleeve and started gnawing on my lower lip instead, reaching my arms up when finally getting to where jace's bunk was. i furrowed my eyebrows in concentration, standing up on my tiptoes. why did the top bunks have to be so high up? the last bus i was in; i could easily get to the top bunks. but no, this bus had to hate my f.cking guts. i made a little noise, almost like a growl and a squeak combined when i finally reached his back, which was pushed all the way to the back. damn you, jace. he probably knew i was going to try and take something from him - i always did when he came over to my apartment that i shared with two of my other friends, jason and damon. they were both youtubers, and incredibly awesome. you know how i said no one knows about my little 'problems''? i lied. they totally know, even though they haven't told me they did, yet. i know they know. i just do. but that's okay, because we're all super duper close. like, we're practically brothers.

i rummaged around in jace's bag till i found some popcorn, 'whooping' silently in victory. i did a little sway of my hips, sticking my tongue out and biting on it. i carefully put his bag back, zipping it back up and pushing it till i knew it was back against the wall. hmph. i hate being short. i playfully pouted when i turned around, looking over to hayden. i smiled a small, gentle smile, which turned into a playfully proud smile. i waved the small package of popcorn in the air, putting my free hand on my hip. found some! he was probably joking about the whole popcorn thing, but i didn't give a sh.t. it's popcorn.

i giggled a little before walking over to the little kitchenette area, purposely swaying my hips, that one hand still on my hip. i held the popcorn high up, and finally let my arms dangle back down when i got to the microwave. yeah, we had a microwave and a coffeepot, but not air conditioning. oh well. i gnawed on my lower lip, putting the popcorn in the microwave, and pressing the 'popcorn' button after shutting the little door thing. i pressed 'start', then sighed heavily, being totally melodramatic as i walked back to my bunk. i scooted in, crossing my covered tattooed legs so i'd be sitting indian style. again. like i almost always do. i leaned forward a bit, propping my elbows up on my knees, and resting my chin in the palms of my hands to support my neck. sorry if i scare you with my awkwardness and my weirdness, i blurted, looking at the floor self-consciously. i really didn't care what anyone thought to said of me, but i was still insecure. if you couldn't already tell.

( out of character ) i wuffles chu more. ;3
d'aw, pfft, whatever. you make me blush. //giggle//
so sweet, my teddy bear. <3
like, at all. IT'S NOT FREAKING FAIR, MAN. *^*
these two need to kiss. right now. this is my otp. ha ha, patden. payden. haytrick. hatrick. //fail//
well... sudden muse burst, right there. d:

[align=right][size=7pt][color=white][c] gee.[/size]

[align=center][fancypost bgcolor=transparent; border: 0px transparent solid; width: 450px;][size=21pt]➣ MARLEY FINLEY RADCLIFF[/size][/fancypost][color=cornflowerblue][font=times]she sits up high surrounded by the sun
one million branches and she loves every one

if you would like to use one of these, just send me a pm !

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[align=center][fancypost bgcolor=; bordercolor=; borderwidth=0px; font-family: times new roman; font-style: normal [fancypost bgcolor=transparent; border: 0px inset transparent; width: 500px;][hr][/fancypost]
[fancypost bgcolor=transparent; border: 0px inset transparent; width: 530px; cursor: url(http://media.tumblr.com/d8f7b2…ine_n7p8i5IQ241r6tyei.png), auto;][justify][sup][size=7pt]now i know
that i can't make you stay
but where's your heart?
but where's your heart?
but where's you...

and i know
there's nothing i can say
to change that part
to change that part
to change...

so many
bright lights, they cast a shadow
but can i speak?
well is it hard understanding
i'm incomplete
a life that's so demanding
i get so weak
a love that's so demanding
i can't speak

i am not afraid to keep on living
i am not afraid to walk this world alone
honey if you stay, i'll be forgiven
nothing you can say can stop me going home

can you see
my eyes are shining bright
'cause i'm out here
on the other side
of a jet-black hotel mirror
and i'm so weak
is it hard understanding
i'm incomplete
a love that's so demanding
i get weak

i am not afraid to keep on living
i am not afraid to walk this world alone
honey if you stay, i'll be forgiven
nothing you can say can stop me going home

i am not afraid to keep on living
i am not afraid to walk this world alone
honey if you stay, i'll be forgiven
nothing you can say can stop me going home

these bright lights have always blinded me
these bright lights have always blinded me
i say

i see you lying next to me
with words i thought i'd never speak
awake and unafraid
asleep or dead

(how can i see, i see you lying) 'cause i see you lying next to me
(how can i see, i see you lying) with words i thought i'd never speak
(how can i see, i see you lying) awake and unafraid
(how can i see, i see you lying) asleep or dead

'cause i see you lying next to me
with words i thought i'd never speak
awake and unafraid
asleep or dead

'cause i see you lying next to me
with words i thought i'd never speak
awake and unafraid
asleep or dead

i am not afraid to keep on living
i am not afraid to walk this world alone
(or dead)
honey if you stay, i'll be forgiven
nothing you can say can stop me going home
(or dead)
i ma not afraid to keep on living
i am not afraid to walk this world alone
(or dead)
honey if you stay i'll be forgiven
nothing you can say can stop me going home
(or dead)
i am not afraid to keep on living
i am not afraid to walk this world alone
(or dead)
honey if you stay i'll be forgiven
nothing you can say can stop me going home

FAMOUS LAST WORDS - MY CHEMICAL ROMANCE

[align=right][size=7pt][color=white][c] gee.[/size]

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[fancypost bgcolor=; bordercolor=; borderwidth=0px; font-family: georgia; font-style: normal; font-size: 23px; margin-bottom: -0px; letter-spacing: 1px; text-align: center;]i don't love you like i did yesterday.[/fancypost]
[fancypost bgcolor=transparent; border: 0px inset transparent; width: 530px; cursor: url(http://i47.tinypic.com/sxy5mo.png), auto;][justify][sup][size=7pt][color=black]they're gonna clean up your looks
with all the lies in the books
to make a citizen out of you
because they sleep with a gun
and keep an eye on you, son
so they can watch all the things you do

because the drugs never work
they're gonna give you a smirk
'cause they got methods of keeping you clean
they're gonna rip up your heads
your aspirations to shreds
another cog in the murder machine

they said all teenagers scare the living sh.t out of me
they could care less as long as someone'll bleed
so darken your clothes or strike a violent pose
maybe they'll leave you alone, but not me

the boys and girls in the clique
the awful names that they stick
you're never gonna fit in much, kid
but if you're troubled and hurt
what you got under your shirt
will make them pay for the things that they did

they said all teenagers scare the living sh.t out of me
hey could care less as long as someone'll bleed
so darken you clothes or strike a violent pose
maybe they'll leave you alone, but not me

ohhh yeah !

they said all teenagers scare the living sh.t out of me
they could care less as long as someone'll bleed
so darken your clothes or strike a violent pose
maybe they'll leave you alone, but not me

all together now !

teenagers scare the living sh.t out of me
they could care less as long as someone'll bleed
so darken your clothes or strike a violent pose
maybe they'll leave you alone, but not me

teenagers scare the living sh.t out of me
they could care less as long as someone'll bleed
so darken your clothes or strike a violent pose
maybe they'll leave you alone, but not me

TEENAGERS - MY CHEMICAL ROMANCE

[align=right][size=7pt][color=white][c] gee.[/size]

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[fancypost bgcolor=; bordercolor=; borderwidth=0px; font-family: georgia; font-style: normal; font-size: 27px; margin-bottom: -0px; letter-spacing: 1px; text-align: center;]honey if you stay, i'll be forgiven.[/fancypost]
[fancypost bgcolor=transparent; border: 0px inset transparent; width: 530px; cursor: url(http://i47.tinypic.com/sxy5mo.png), auto;][justify][sup][size=7pt]when i apologized, i really actually meant it. i really was sorry for being me. no one really deserved to have me as a friend; they deserved so much better than me. my family deserved so much better than me, and so did the fans. they might not know what i'm going through, but they didn't need a hypocrite telling them how wrong it was to harm yourself and stuff like that. i knew it was totally wrong, that was definitely true, but i couldn't help it. it was like there was someone whispering in my ear, telling me all these negative things that i actually believed. and that someone was the only someone who i cared about what they said and thought about me. that someone was obviously me, but at the same time, it wasn't really me. it was like my conscience or something, not that i really believed in that. having a conscience was like having schizophrenia or bipolar disorder - which are two very different things, by the way, if you're stupid enough not to know that.

he looked like he wanted to hug me or take my hand, or something, when i apologized. then he told me not to apologize in the politest way, and - did he really understand? probably. i mean, it's just awkwardness and weirdness. everyone can get a little awkward and/or weird sometimes, even if they're the most outgoing and funnest of people. yes, funnest is a word now. it's in the dictionary - look it up on google, for crying out loud, if you're that much of a smart-ass. have you ever wondered why 'google' is, well, google. like who the hell thought up of that name? same for f.cking unicorns. why unicorns. i don't see any corn. i understand the 'uni' part, but why in the hell corns? f.cking unicorns.

ha, that reminds me of when i ripped off a stuffed unicorn's head that i got at a carnival. i was eleven - yes, i still slept with stuffed animals - and in sixth grade, and i just got so mad because i was tired to school. so i took it out on that poor stuffed unicorn by literally ripping its head off with my bare hands. it was amazing what you could do with so much anger and adrenaline, right? 'cause i wasn't a strong kid at all. i was that really short kid who was skinnier than a twig, with my collarbone easily definable and my hipbones sticking out instead of having even the least bit of muscle. i guess i had a little muscle now, but boy, back when i was in school; god, i was probably the scrawniest dude ever. i was shorter than a majority of everyone else, and i probably weighed a lot less, too. i was only like eighty-five pounds when i was eleven, but i was considerably short. i was like four and a half feet tall, maybe even shorter. how did this get from google to unicorns, and unicorns to height and weight? well, i guess that's a look into my mind, for you. not that you haven't been 'looking into my mind' since forever.

oh god, my imaginary friends. i think i was crazy when i was a kid. i seriously thought they were real until i turned fifteen - fifteen. i had imaginary friends until i was fifteen f.cking years old. and i really thought they were real, man. i even cried over one's 'death' for about a month, when i was ten. they 'died' of a horrible 'plane crash'. like what the actual f.ck? there wasn't even a real plane crash, for f.ck's sake! oh, his name was red. his nickname was red, anyway. i don't remember his real name. the other guy told me he loved me when i turned thirteen, and holy sh.t, we started f.cking dating. i didn't tell anyone about these 'friends' of mine, or how i was dating this make-believe person. casper, was his name. yeah, how ironic, right? when i turned fifteen, i finally realized what in the hell i was doing, and realized that casper was a figment of my imagination, helping me to cope with all the f.cking bullying and sh.t. that imaginary dude was my only friend, and i used to wish i never stopped believing he was real. i mean, when i was fourteen, i had my doubts, but casper was my lifeline.

i was a pretty f.cked up kid.

i just then noticed that there were two glass bottles, one about half full of this amber-ish liquid, and the other full - probably not opened yet - with a clear liquid. i instantly knew it was alcohol, and my stomach turned at just the word. did he seriously hide that in his bag? whatever, i wouldn't question him about it or anything. i guess it wasn't really unusual, 'cause it's all the less money to spend on drinks 'on the way', you know? plus, you wouldn't have to go out to drink; you could just stay inside, where you were alone - almost alone, in my case. hayden and i were alone together, and for christ's sake that song is now stuck in my head. anyway, it felt good just to be left alone, with no one constantly bothering you with stupid questions and chattering that you'd always zone out from. don't get me wrong, i loved the guys, but sometimes i just needed a break, you know? i guess i wasn't fully alone - it wasn't me myself and i, or anything. but this was as close to alone as i would get, i figured. but hayden seemed like a cool enough guy, right?

yeah. he seemed really nice, and i kind of wanted to get to know him. like, you know, actually get to know him. not just for throughout the tour, either. i really wanted to get to know him, and i didn't know exactly why. he just seemed a little different, i guess. i mean, i know every single one of us is unique in our own different ways, but there was just something about him. i felt like there was something he was hiding from everyone, which only made me want to get to know him more. i didn't want to get to know him just to figure out what it was he was hiding - if he even was hiding anything - but i actually wanted to be a friend he could rely on. i don't know, he just seemed like such a nice guy, and i wanted to help him through with whatever he was hiding - again, if he was even hiding anything at all. the feeling was pretty strong, so i was pretty damn sure he was hiding something. i guess there's one thing we had in common besides both of us being in a band with a totally kick-ass name. what was his band's name again? i know it had a 'wish' in it. oh, yeah! her last wish. that was such an awesome name, don't you think? way cooler than as it is.

when he asked me that question, my stomach turned, and i had to swallow and wince. there was a dark feeling in the pit of my stomach, just begging for some alcoholic beverage - any alcoholic beverage i could get my hands on. there was a part of my mind telling me to just take gulps upon gulps, get drunk for once, just to see what it was like. and i kind of wanted to, as stated before, but i was just scared. i mean, i never got drunk before. i never got high before, and i've never even smoked before. i've never done anything like that, and i was a little nervous. sure, i've had a beer before, but that's it. i drank beer, but it was like only one can per every two months. i didn't even drink soda, which i guess, according to most people, was insane of me. soda made my stomach hurt, and the feeling it gave my mouth and throat was very unpleasant. therefore, i very much disliked soda. yes, i still say 'soda', even though i guess the word that's 'in' is 'pop'. ugh. pop is a horrible name for soda. that should be in a book of 'the weirdest sentences ever'.

i gulped silently, gnawing on my lower lip when he took a swig of the amber-sih liquid. he didn't even grimace, or make any sort of face when i fell down his throat. i was told that it felt weird by my friends, and that they couldn't wait to see the day i'd finally try something like rum. the thought of getting drunk hit me like a bus again, and i kept worrying on my lower lip, hoping i wouldn't draw blood. i did that quite a lot. i mean, f.ck it, right? though i did wonder what i'd be like if i did decided to ever get drunk. would i be a sad drunk, and angry drunk, or maybe a really funny, stupid drunk? or maybe i'd be that drunk that was too calm and almost seemed high on weed, or maybe that drunk that didn't really look or seem drunk. i knew for sure i wouldn't be that flirty type of drunk, who flirted around with everyone and would grind on anyone who'd let him. no way. you know, they do say that when you're drunk; it's when your true personality, or something, comes 'intact'. oh dear, maybe i shouldn't ever, ever get drunk. but jeez, the urge of wanting to was just pulling at me, right now. no. no, no, no.

i gulped once more, just as silent as the one before, when he reached his arm out, bottle of amber-ish liquid in his hand. i ran a hand through my hair, thinking for a moment. it didn't take me too long to finally reach over and grab the bottle, staring down into the contents. i swirled it around, holding it by the 'nose'. i was careful not to drop it, even with my gentle hold. i was still worrying on my lower lip, taking a glance up at the other before finally taking a decent gulp or two, my face scrunching up as i coughed a little. i hummed after, the warm feeling i got in my throat and my stomach kind of pleasant. a small smile etched across my face, and i hummed again before taking another swig, this time my face only scrunching up the slightest bit, coughing only once, and silently. wow, that's pretty good. you know, i've never had any alcoholic beverage besides beer before. and i've never gotten drunk, i confessed, looking back up at the other. i gave him a shy smile, and started gnawing on my lower lip again.

i cleared my throat, my shoulders relaxing at the warm feeling inside my stomach. i was definitely a lightweight, and i knew it wouldn't take much for me to get drunk. and to add on to that, i hadn't ever gotten drunk before - remember? that made it all the easier for me to get drunk. i took another small sip before opening my eyes, just a little bit more than halfway to look at hayden. i knew the after-affects of getting drunk, but right now, i kind of didn't care. this would be a hell of a story to tell the guys, now wouldn't it? and in interviews, that's for sure. i hummed as i reached my arm out to give the bottle back to him, shifting a little so i'd be as close to the edge as i could be without falling off. then the microwave beeped, making me flinch, eyes widening. i giggled at myself, covering my mouth promptly after. i gave the bottle back to him before getting up and shuffling over to the kitchenette, worrying once again on my lower lip.

i opened the microwave and got a big bowl out, not seeing the need to dirty two bowls. i made a noise, somewhere between a squeak and a yelp when i accidentally touched a hot part of the bag. i huffed as i opened the paper bag, shivering a little at the gust of warm air that hit me. i quickly, carefully poured all of the popcorn into the bowl, then closed the microwave and left the bag by it. i walked back over to the bunks, though only stood in front of mine, looking straight at the other. [color=maroon]we don't have to watch a movie if you really don't want to. we could just hang out and listen to music, or something. i shrugged my shoulders, wrapping my arms around the bowl and making sure it wouldn't slip and make a mess. i gave him a shy, awkward little smile, curling and uncurling my toes. 'or we could just f.cking cuddle, because i need a f.cking cuddle,' i wanted to say, but i wasn't that blunt or outgoing.

( out of character ) well, you're sweeter than apple pie. mhm.
pfft, whatever. i'm not cute. pfft. //eye roll//
he he, my teddy. <3 me too, teddy bear!
ugh, i know. i couldn't help myself. just look at him.
oh my gosh, yes, it really is. my o-f.cking-t-f.cking-p. i wuffles them so so much. <3 yeesh, lots and lots o' cuddles!
whatever, it wasn't perfect. but yours, on the other hand, was more than perfect. all of your posts are, m'dear. <3

[align=right][size=7pt][color=white][c] gee.[/size]

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[fancypost bgcolor=; bordercolor=; borderwidth=0px; font-family: georgia; font-style: normal; font-size: 31px; margin-bottom: -11px; letter-spacing: 1px; text-align: center;]i'm not even sad anymore.[/fancypost]

[fancypost bgcolor=transparent; border: 0px inset transparent; width: 530px; cursor: url(http://i49.tinypic.com/2e5303d.png), auto;][justify][sup][size=7pt]if someone asked me 'would you go back in time if you could?' - i'd just look at them weird and shake my head. duh. i'd rather go into the future - which i would never really want to do - than go back and relive my past. i went through some of the most horrible sh.t, and i wouldn't even hesitate to say no to that stupid question. i guess i could change things, make those bullies stop, but that was highly unlikely. plus, i wouldn't be standing here right now. i wouldn't be helping people in the way i have always wanted to, and my life would probably just get worse. i'd probably become that really angry guy who never smiled, who people stayed away from. i'd probably be dead by now.

ugh, i hated thinking like that. i hate lying to people so much, but i'm just a big hypocrite, and i can't help it. i could feel my heart start to race, and i was feeling kind of nauseated. i only frowned at the ground, curling and uncurling my toes again. i gulped silently, then looked up at hayden with raised eyebrows, my lips pursed. his sort-of invitation made me want to laugh at him, but i kept from doing so. i could just hear the teasing voices of my band mates, winking at me and nudging my shoulders, then giving me noogies. it made a small smile etch across my face once more, taking a deep, silent breath. yeah, i should party with him some time. the last time i actually had a real conversation with someone(people)jason and damon, i practically ignored the guys. and guess what? they got jealous. how freaking hilarious is that? they got jealous just because i was having a real conversation with people besides them. it wasn't because jason and damon were making a video, at the time, but because it wasn't them i was talking to. man, i never laughed harder or more genuine in my entire life.

jason and damon. let's keep this a secret: they were my best buddies. like, my best buddies. again, we were like brothers, and they were the only ones who knew. they didn't force me to eat, though, and if either of them was home, one or the other would rub my back when my head was hanging over the toilet. they didn't bug me about it, either, try telling me it was wrong and selfish, and other sh.t like that. you know, things your parents would say. like my parents said. they, of course, obviously didn't support it or anything. they just didn't smother me and bug me till i internally screamed so much that i ended up squeaking. i mean, we were really close, even if damon hadn't been living with me and jason for a long time. he'd only moved in a few months ago, actually, but we were best friends at first sight. i was in a lot of their videos, and before this whole band business started, they tried persuading me into making my own youtube channel. i was going to, but then the band got a few offers from a few record labels. they were so supportive, and actually pretty excited. i think they were more excited than i was, aha.

i hadn't noticed i'd looked up and straight into the golden orbs of the other, smiling all shy, but content. i think it was the alcohol talking, but he was freaking pretty. like, not just pretty, but beautiful. on the inside it was plain obvious to me, especially sober. his eyes were pretty and so sparkly, and his smile - oh god, his smile. it was one of the most beautiful things i'd ever seen, besides jason's and damon's smiles. what? i told you, we're like brothers. we're like f.cking triplets, with all of us being kind of awkward. jason was probably the most sociable out of our little three-man party, though. he wasn't too awkward - just the right amount to be considered normal. damon and i were definitely awkward; so awkward that it was almost painfully obvious. i had to admit, though, that i was probably the most awkward of us three. my awkwardness was evident even when i was hardly being awkward. like around my band mates and those two.

i've been living with jason since i was nineteen, and i was pretty surprised he hadn't moved out, or made me move out. i mean, i did have eating disorders, and i was kind of depressing to be around if you knew what was really going on. they were the only two that knew, and i felt bad that they had to deal with my problems. i tried hard not to tell them about my problems, but they always squeezed it out of me after i purged, or after days of not eating; or after having a panic attack. especially after having a panic attack. they were the f.cking best, and i loved them so much. i loved everyone, of course, but in all honesty, i loved those two the most. i know it sounds horrible that i love them more than anyone else, even my own family members - my mom and my dad, for crying out loud. but it was true, and sometimes the truth hurts, and can be bad and hurtful. sometimes it makes you want to cry and end it all. sometimes a lie is better than the truth.

i suddenly felt self-conscious under his gaze. i mean, i was always self-conscious, but at times like these i was more insecure than i could ever be. you know, being alone with just one other person, with that person staring you down like a hawk. i mean, he wasn't really staring at me like a hawk, but you get what i mean. crowds of people below me were so different. up on that stage, i felt like i was on top of the world, all smiles and laughs and bad jokes. most of them were dirty, but how could one help but make a dirty joke in front of tons of people? it always made the fans laugh, our little stupid, dirty jokes. on stage, with fans chanting the band's name before we even got out there, then screaming with joy and support. i loved seeing their hands raised in the air, hopping up and down, swaying side to side, just having a good time. best. feeling. in. the. world.

i sighed silently after he snapped me out of my thoughts, shaking my head a little when i looked back down, head hanging. my smile vanished, contorting into a sort of sad look. 'whatever you'd like.' 'what do you like to do?' what do you like to do, hayden? what is it that you would like to do, hayden? why it it always what i like to do? what i want to do? i mean, what if i don't want to do what i want to do? what if i want to do what someone else wants to do for a change? why does everyone ask me what i want to do?! sometimes i just want to yell at people because they think they have to do what i want to do. jason and damon, ben, andy and jace. they always ask me what i want to do, and they won't take 'what do you want to do' as an answer. freaking frick, maybe i should get drunk.

i put on that shy smile when i looked back up, shrugging my shoulders. i hesitantly took a few steps forward, and sat down on the edge of his bunk, putting the bowl of popcorn between us. i scooted back so i could draw my knees up, wrapping my arms around them. i snatched the bottle from his hands, and downed a few more gulps, wiping my mouth on my sleeve after. i was kind of intimidated by his sudden confidence, but i was intimidated by a lot of people and things. scooted back a bit more, the feeling of wanting to throw up only growing. like, not on purpose either. my stomach twisted in knots, doing weird flips. i ignored it though, resting back against the wall, my head lolled back a little so it could rest against the wall too. i turned my head, though, so i could look over at the other. my smile was faint, but it was still there.

what do you like to do, mister rowe. i poked at his shoulder, giving the drink back to him. [color=maroon]i hope i pronounced that right, i thought out loud, closing my eyes and turning my head so i'd be facing to the front of me. my stomach growled, and i just then realized that no one should drink with an empty stomach. oh well, i couldn't care any less. i wrapped both of my arms back around my legs, bringing my knees as close as i possibly could to my chest. i rested my head on my knees, keeping my eyes closed. i turned my head to be facing hayden, and opened my eyes, just a little over halfway. i opened my mouth to say something, but i didn't know what, so i just closed it again. i just hummed, burying my face in my knees. just from those few gulps, i could already feel a little buzz.

( out of character ) it's my favorite kind of pie. c;
d'aw, such a sweet teddy. ;3
he he, my teddy. mine. <3
ha, same here. his eyes and his smile and him. //dreamy sigh//
i hope for the same. c; i know, same here! this is such a perfect pairing. ^^
aw, i'm glad! whatever, dude. what to the ever. your posts should be in an award winning book. <33

[align=right][size=7pt][color=white][c] gee.
#funghoulfrankie[/size]

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[fancypost bgcolor=transparent; border: 0px inset transparent; width: 530px; cursor: url(http://i49.tinypic.com/2e5303d.png), auto;][justify][sup][size=7pt]i couldn't help but smile at him, turning my head to look back at him. i kept my head rested on my knees, curling and uncurling my toes out of habit. my smile faded, though, when he paused. had i said something wrong? i immediately felt guilty, even if i didn't know what for, and i looked to the floor. i knew there was something a little off, and i wanted to figure it out. i wanted to help him, you know? unless he didn't want my help, because i honestly couldn't say no to him. i couldn't say no to almost everyone, in most situations. that was probably why i got beat up mercilessly in high school. the blows just kept coming, and i just took them. i didn't try to fight them, and sometimes i'd just beg for my attackers to kill me. they'd always stop when i did, and i would just wait for the final blow that'd send me into oblivion, even if only for a short while. obviously i'd almost always pass out after they left, but i just wanted the world to be rid of me.

i was such a baby, and i know i still am. i cry more than any man my age should, and i'm such a f.cking teenage girl. a teenage girl who hates her body, and takes everything out on herself. see? i told you i'm a hypocrite, and i big one. i'm a hypocrite, and i'm full of sh.t meaning i've put up this facade for too long. i'm such a coward for not telling anyone but two people, even if those two people were the hardest people for me to tell. i mean, i hadn't told them or anything, they just kind of figure it out for themselves. which just made me even more of a coward. a selfish, hypocritical coward who's too weak for his own good. i know crying doesn't necessarily made you weak, but for someone like me, it meant you're weaker than a kicked puppy. that's kind of what i was - a kicked puppy. i've been kicking myself so much that i can barely breathe; hypothetically, of course. i'm just curled up in a loose ball, whimpering an crying, my 'tail' between my legs.

you know those commercials with the beaten dogs and kittens and stuff? god, that's why i never got a pet. i wouldn't be bale to take care of it because of the feelings it held behind its eyes. those saddened, big eyes that just stared deep into your soul. those pleading eyes that tugged at your heart strings and made you want to cry. made you want to give that poor animal and loving hug, a nice home, and a loving family. my family had a dog once, but it got hit by a car while fetching a frisbee. that i threw. i myself almost got hit by trying to save him, but my dad got to me just in time and pulled me back as the car screeched to a halt. i was seven years old, and i had bawled for months. the dog was small, and it took almost nothing to kill it. her name was miles; i named her myself. they got her specifically for me, because i had begged and begged them to get one for me. she was only a puppy, small and helpless. she was adorable, and her spirits were bright. when i was upset, she'd always come scampering into my room, like she sensed there was something wrong. she'd curl up beside me and lick at my face, which was pretty chubby at the time. she'd make me giggle and she'd wag her little tail. i could see the smile in her eyes.

i had gotten too attached to her, and it hit me hard when she had died. she died right in front of my eyes. even though i was seven, i was pretty smart, and i blamed myself for her death. i acted as if she were a human being, but what was the difference? animals were as close to human beings as anything could get. they were only, well, animals. even bugs were like humans. anyway, my sweet little miles had been living with us for only six months when she got hit. i would have scratched the man's eyes out - the driver of the car - if it weren't for my dad who kept pulling me away, trying to calm me. i'd screamed at the man, who kept apologizing, and even tried saving the puppy. she was still breathing, whimpering and trying to push herself up. the man, ironically, was a vet. miles had died only two minutes after shed been hit, and i ended up limp in my dad's arms, just sobbing and crying the puppy's name. one of my worst childhood memories. i really loved that puppy.

one time, after about three months of her being gone, i'd ended up crying in school, at recess. it was supposed to be the good time, but for someone like me, it was the worst period of time in school. i was pushed around for being a 'little baby'. there were older kids out there, too, ages six to nine; first to fourth grade. the fifth graders had their own period of recess time, because there were more fifth graders than first, second, third and fourth graders combined. the sixth, seventh and eighth graders didn't get recess, but sometimes they got free time, depending on the day and how good they were. anyway, i was sitting in the grass, under a tree, where i usually was at recess. no one else went to that part, usually on the playground or the blacktop, playing tag, sandman, hopscotch, or jump rope. some hool-a-hooped, and a very select few just hung out, talking in a circle or something. i was always the odd one out; the typical outcast.

a fourth grader had pointed at me, his attention being caught by me making a flower crown. which i was actually pretty skilled at, and wasn't ashamed of. i had looked up when i heard laughing, tears still rolling down my cheeks. since that fourth grader and his friends were all cold and heartless, they laughed and made fun of me from a distance. which only made me cry harder. i'd literally ripped up the flower crown, stood up, and stormed inside the building with my head in my hands. the only people who did care was mrs. hyland, mr. joseph and mr. porter. mrs. hyland was my class's teacher, mr. joseph was the music teacher, and mr. porter was the art teacher. besides my mom and dad, at the time they were my favorite people in the world. they were like family to me, and they'd gotten the principal to tell the boys' parents - the boys who had made fun of me so cruelly. and their parents seemed pretty mad about the way they had treated me, apologizing to my parents about their sons' and daughters' behaviors. yes, daughters'. that's how much of a wimp i was.

i was snapped out of my thoughts when he started talking, humming when he said i'd pronounced his last name right. i almost laughed at his last statements, though only snorted. how could no one not pronounce his last name right? it was obvious the 'e' was silent. i mean, not that it'd be weird if it was silent, or anything. because that'd actually be cool. his last name was cool, how it was spelled and how it sounded rolling off my tongue. i liked his name. a lot. it might not have been something like nova, or phoenix, but it suited him. i guess everyone's names suited them, though. it's weird how everyone's names seems fit for their appearance. i can get deep in thought about literally anything, whether it be a simple gesture of a pen tapping against a notebook, to trying to figure out just what the hell someone was doing with that piece of paper they were ripping up. i told you, i'm a f.cked up kid. not that i'm a kid. you know what i mean.

i watched him down a few more gulps of the alcohol, my smile small and lazy. i hummed, closing my eyes as i listened to his voice intently. i huffed out a laugh at his words, then hummed silently. again. i honesty loved being on the road, even with my little problems. i loved being distracted with the wind hitting my face, my chest pounding with the blare of music sounding throughout the entire car. it was nice and relaxing, to me, the feeling of the music in your chest, make your heart pound. and having little walks were nice, but star gazing was even better. sometimes i'd just lay down on a bench in the park not too far from the apartment at midnight, and stare at the stars. i'd try to find any constellations, and make some of my own. i even liked to watch the clouds in the morning, making out irregular shapes and forms. it was distracting, and i was in my own little world, comforting myself with just relaxing and looking at the clouds or the stars. it was really nice. really, very nice and comforting; soothing.

i nodded my head a little at him, and my facial expression twitched into a small frown, though only for a moment before going back to that same small, lazy smile. not many people called me patrick anymore, unless something bad was happening, or had happened. unless something negative was going on. but i shewed it away, and my heart almost made me puke when he told me what he desired most. drinking. was he, like, an alcoholic or something? i mean, who am i to judge? it just kind of surprised me, but i didn't say anything about it. we all carry these things inside that no on else can see, right? i knew the alcohol was taking over him, and i could feel it beginning to take over me, too. there was a horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach, making me groan, though almost inaudibly.

i wanted to wrap my arms around him and tell him it was okay at his next words. i lifted my head, giving him a sad smile. i shifted a bit, looking back to the floor when i noticed he wasn't looking at me. i worried at my lower lip, fighting the urge to cry. he'd probably just told me one of his darkest secrets, and i felt compelled to tell him mine. but i didn't, and kept my mouth shut. i took a deep breath, breathing in and out of my nose as i kept gnawing on my lower lip. my stomach growled silently, but i ignored it, my mind filled with things i could confess and tell hayden, hug him and tell him it was okay. that i was here for him, even if we barely knew each other. it felt like we'd known each other forever, though, which was kind of comforting. i felt like i could tell him anything, but at the same time i was still scared of what he'd think. would he laugh at me? would he tell me i was selfish? would he stray away from me and try to ignore me?

i pushed those thoughts aside when he spoke again, frowning a little, though that sad expression plastering my face. when he glanced at me, i could practically hear my heart shatter. those eyes... i shook my head and scooted closer, moving the popcorn and the bottle over to the other side of me so i could be closer to him. no. i hesitantly put one of my hands on one of his, giving him a sad, sympathetic smile, my head starting to swim with that unfamiliar buzz. you could tell me you murdered a thousand people, and i still wouldn't leave. my words were a little slurred, and i scooted closer, till our sides touched. my knees were still up to my chest, my free arm wrapped around my legs. i intertwined our fingers in hopes to try and comfort him, at least a little. i rested my head on his shoulder, though kept my eyes on his. we all have our secrets. well, sort-of secrets. i let out a halfhearted, tiny huff of a laugh, gulping silently. we might not know each other very well, but you can tell me anything. i still won't leave. my voice was small and quiet, soft and gentle like always. i was scared i was pushing him, and that he'd leave instead of me.

i hesitated, but took my hand from his and scooted away a little, continuing to gnaw at my lower lip, which had finally started to bleed. i licked over my lips, and took to chewing on my cheek, instead. i wrapped both of my arms back around my legs, pulling them as close as i could to my chest. i kept my gaze on hayden's, though only for a moment before looking down, my toes curling and uncurling again. [color=maroon]sorry, i muttered subconsciously, closing my eyes and resting my head on my knees, letting the alcohol take me into its grasp.

( out of character ) he he. ^^
you got that right. and i'm all yours. ;3
oops. i couldn't help myself, though! cx
don't you be sorry for that beautiful post. i will steal your poptart. //fails at trying to be serious. again//
pfft. //hair flip// i know. and fine. i guess we could. <33
they should get mugged at some point. i mean, it's all drama-y. angst.
sorry my replies are always kind of late. i sleep during the day, and i'm up all night. literally. //shrug//

[align=right][size=7pt][color=white][c] gee.
#funghoulfrankie[/size]

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^{make a wish on our sorry little hearts}
[align=center][size=19pt][ [color=black]i'm intoxicated by the lie ][/size]

[spoiler=bronx // masculine // mad hatter]

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[align=center]"maybe it's not about the happy ending; maybe it's about the story."

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[fancypost bgcolor=; bordercolor=; borderwidth=0px; font-family: georgia; font-style: normal; font-size: 31px; margin-bottom: -11px; letter-spacing: 1px; text-align: center;]i'm not even sad anymore.[/fancypost]

[fancypost bgcolor=transparent; border: 0px inset transparent; width: 530px; cursor: url(http://i49.tinypic.com/2e5303d.png), auto;][justify][sup][size=7pt]i wished i wouldn't have pulled away. being so close to him made the feeling in my stomach die down, but now it was at an all-time high. i was afraid he'd just sigh and walk away, or tell me to 'shew'. in a way, i went through a lot of that in my school years. i would sit in a seat, and someone would tell me that it was theirs. of course, being me, i'd get up and obey them like some sort of brainwashed dog. i'd just obey everyone; each and every one of anyone's commands. if you told me to beg, i'd beg. if you told me to speak, i'd speak. tell me to lay down, i'd lay down. that's how much of a freaking wimp i was. i was just scared, because every time i didn't do what someone told me to do, something bad would happen. i'd be pushed inside of a locker, or i'd get a punch to the face or the stomach. it wasn't just in the movies, kids. sometimes those movies came to life, and it really f.cking sucked.

what sucked even more was that i'd never really get angry. the anger was always in the back of my mind, and i didn't even have to try and hold it in. it just automatically shut off when i was being beaten or stuffed in a locker, or snickered at and called those horrible names. the only thing i did have to try and hold back were the tears. it was hard for me to hold back the tears, and i've cried almost too much in my life. i tried my hardest not to let anyone see me cry, always running off to the bathroom or to my room, or somewhere that no one else would be, depending on where i was. i'd curl myself up, whether it be sitting up or lying down, and i'd just cry. i'd be silent, of course, unless no one was home. i wouldn't be able to help myself, and i'd just let all the sobs out. there were some times where the anger finally pushed its way out, and i took it out on my room. i learned not to be outside of my room when i was upset, otherwise i'd end up breaking some glass, like that one time when i was in eighth grade. eegh. i was lucky my parents didn't send me to therapy.

oh, wait. never mind; they totally sent me to a therapist. no matter how much i begged them not to, they did it anyway. it worked for the shortest amount of time, but it was only two days. you guessed it; it was only the weekend. away from those cruel bastards i called classmates. my parents didn't realize it was only making things worse when they switched it to school days, and i finally took it out on the kitchen and the living room. i just couldn't contain myself, and i thrashed out. i threw pillows, threw books, cleared off tables in the worst way. it wasn't until i broke a few picture frames and a glass vase full of my mother's favorite flowers that i stopped. it was like something out of a movie - bloody hands, tears, worried parents, sobbing mother, hospital, stitches, more therapy. finally, after a week of that happening and increasing my time with my therapist, who made time for me, they realized it was only making things worse. and they told the therapist i wasn't going anymore. they tried putting me on pills, but i never took them. but let's keep that a secret.

the time they tried putting me on medication was the time i ended up in the hospital, again, but for a different reason than having thrashed out. they never knew i did that, though, besides for that one time. i might have told you before, but my memory can get a little fuzzy at times. not really, but whatever. i hadn't eaten in probably three days, and i had only had a mere few sips of water. i'd purged a bit too much, and ended up passing out after rinsing my mouth with mouthwash. i'd been out for probably an hour or two, otherwise my mom wouldn't have found me. the door to the bathroom was unlocked, as was my bedroom door - yes, my bedroom had a lock - because i was stupid enough not to lock either of them. i could remember the pain in my neck and my back, and my limbs. my whole body ached, though the thing that ached the most was my heart. cheesy, i know, but it was so broken, and i couldn't handle it. i wished they wouldn't have found me. i mean, i would have obviously woken up without going to the hospital, and i would have eaten and sh.t. but nope. my parents were too worried and smothered me way too much.

i didn't want him to go, either. i wanted to help him with everything i had left. i wanted to help him rise back to the top, and not have to worry about anything. i couldn't bare knowing people were so hurt, and didn't even show it. they didn't ask for help, and sometimes they'd deny the fact they needed it. like me. i didn't need help, okay? the last time i had 'help' ended up with me being and even bigger mess. i might have felt like i could tell hayden anything, but i was still wary of telling him what i didn't want anyone to know. it'd probably be the death of me, sooner or later. that's probably what jason and damon though. i knew that they knew, and i knew they thought if i didn't get better, my little problems would be the death of me. i didn't want help, and i didn't need it. my mind was not a place anyone wanted to be, and i didn't want to drag anyone down with me. i was at the bottom of the pit, but i was still falling. i was digging my own grave, for f.ck's sake. but i didn't want or need anyone's help. but the first step to getting better was admitting you had a problem. what was the second step? i know i have problems, but what's next? tell someone? admit it to someone else? set that unnecessary weight on their shoulders? no way would i do that to someone. i couldn't, and i wouldn't.

at least i had the comfort of music. it might not have 'cured' my problems, but problems couldn't ever be cured. they'd always be there with you, no matter what. you might get better, but they'd still linger. music was my sort of escape from reality, and it always had been. there'd be those particular bad days, where i'd listen to specific bands that'd actually kind of make me feel a little better. like my chemical romance - three cheers for sweet revenge, and the black parade. i'd listen to three of of their songs more than any others; i'm not okay(i promise), teenagers, and famous last words. that last one, famous last words, would always lift my spirits up a little. i am not afraid to keep on living; i am not afraid to walk this world alone. i wasn't afraid to keep on living, but i was kind of afraid to walk this world alone. i wouldn't care i were dead, or died, but i wasn't afraid to keep on living. i knew i needed to keep living for my family, my friends, the fans. i was never alone, and i knew that. but my mind was a horrible wasteland, and i was trapped.

i almost flinched when i felt the sleeve of my sweatshirt crumple a little, though kept my eyes closed. then his hand moved away, very much like mine had, and i felt so guilty. he didn't want me to leave, he told me, and i didn't want to. i didn't want him to leave, and it didn't seem like he wanted to, either. the alcohol was taking over both of us, and we should be up laughing and crying because we couldn't stop our laughter. we should be dancing around, having our own little two-man party. but i guess we were just different. maybe he would have been up dancing and sh.t if he'd went with the others, but with me? i guess when i was drunk, i got all mopey instead of upbeat and crazy. not that those people who were upbeat drunks necessarily got crazy, or anything. just, you know, upbeat. not sitting around doing nothing but drowning in your own sadness. in my case, my own mind of depressing, terrifying thoughts. my mind was a real wasteland; nothing but waste. nothing but thoughts that shouldn't be there in the first place.

i gulped silently as his apology, sighing silently through my nose. he shouldn't be apologizing. i opened my eyes a little over halfway when i felt his hand beneath my chin. my flushed cheeks flushed even more, and with a bit of effort, i managed to put up a small, sad, tired smile. i tilted my head a little, relishing in his touch. it was a sort of simple gesture, but his touch was still nice. i closed my eyes for a brief moment as his next statements, wanting to shake my head at him and blabber on about how he shouldn't be sorry, how i wanted to help him through whatever he was going through. i wanted to tell him to shut up, because he had no reason to be apologizing. we could have our own little war on telling each other not to apologize, that our own selves are the ones who are sorry, and i could stay up all night doing so. not that i don't stay up all night, anyway.

i finally gathered the little courage i had and took the hand that had slipped beneath my chin in mine, intertwining our fingers. i closed my eyes and subconsciously pressed our foreheads together, and took me free hand to gently caress one of his own flushed cheeks. i'll stop apologizing if you do, i whispered, taking a silent, deep breath, inhaling and exhaling through my nose. i pulled away, though scooted close to him so our sides would touch again, practically snuggling into him. i kept one of my hands in his, my other moving so my arm would wrap around my legs. i looked down at our hands, gnawing on my lower lip nervously. i wanted to tell him, but i didn't know exactly how. just telling him, just being so honest and blunt, would be too weird and would cause uneasiness. and most likely not just for me, but for him too. sure, i was uneasy about telling him in the first place, but if i just told him i'd be even more uneasy. i'd probably end up in my own bunk and... ugh. i hate myself in every single way.

[color=maroon]you're not alone, hayden. i'm here for you, no matter what. i'll never, ever leave you. i promise. i rested my head back on my knees, keeping my eyes shut. my smile had faded, but it wasn't genuine in the first place. i gulped silently, like i did a lot when i was nervous, and squeezed his hand. the buzz was finally growing stronger, and i could feel the alcohol reeling me in to my mind even farther. i guess i was an even deeper thinker when i was drunk. which was horrible. i should have never gotten drunk, but then again, i might not have gotten to know him this well, even if it wasn't really all too well. i mean, he just told me that he had a... problem, right off the bat. it felt kind of good that he'd just told me so soon; that he'd even told me, period. i just wished telling him about my problems would be as easy for me as it was for him. not many things were ever easy for me except for being a crybaby and making music, though. my whole life was a challenge.

( out of character ) trust me, i surely won't. c;
mhm, that's what i thought. pfft, i'd never steal your poptart. <3
nuh uh, yours are. way more. like, beyond way more. //pokes your nose back//
yayayayay i'm glad you like it! because i'm a cheesy fool who loves a lot of angst. :3
aw, thank chu, teddy bear. <33 yeah, i really don't blame you. i'm nocturnal. d:
ooh, nice fancypost by the way. c;

[align=right][size=7pt][color=white][c] gee.
#funghoulfrankie[/size]

[align=center][fancypost bgcolor=; bordercolor=; borderwidth=0px; font-family: times new roman; font-style: normal; font-size: 49px; margin-bottom: -17px; letter-spacing: 1px; text-align: center;]angel perish[/fancypost]
^{make a wish on our sorry little hearts}
[align=center][size=19pt][ [color=black]i'm intoxicated by the lie ][/size]

[align=center][fancypost bgcolor=transparent; border: 0px transparent solid; width: 450px;][size=21pt]➣ MARLEY FINLEY RADCLIFF[/size][/fancypost][color=cornflowerblue][font=times]she sits up high surrounded by the sun
one million branches and she loves every one

[fancypost bgcolor=; borderwidth=0px; margin-bottom: -30px; transform: rotate (4deg); -o-transform: rotate(4deg); -webkit-transform: rotate(4deg); -moz-transform: rotate(4deg); margin-right: -17px; opacity: 0.70;]

[/fancypost]

[size=27pt]T R I G G E R
W A R N I N G ![/size]

[size=7pt]this may contain contents that could be triggering to some.
if you are triggered by any eating disorder or any form of self-harm, please -
do not read on.

oh, and graphic violence. so beware.[/size]

[fancypost bgcolor=; bordercolor=; borderwidth=0px; margin-bottom: -43px;][/fancypost]

[fancypost bgcolor=black; bordercolor=black; borderwidth=8px; width=500px; margin-bottom: -17px;][/fancypost]
[fancypost bgcolor=; bordercolor=; borderwidth=0px; font-family: georgia; font-style: normal; font-size: 31px; margin-bottom: -11px; letter-spacing: 1px; text-align: center;]my heart is like a stallion;[/fancypost]

[fancypost bgcolor=transparent; border: 0px inset transparent; width: 530px; cursor: url(http://media.tumblr.com/c7ec41…ine_n168zwBHbM1r6tyei.png), auto;][justify]^{[size=7pt]he could have been a young college professor, worked in the bau of the fbi, or a lawyer. with his high iq, he could've done so much better than a bartender. hell, he could have been a pianist, if he really wanted to be. but out of every one of those choices, he decided that, no, he wanted to be a bartender. sometimes he regretted it, with all the drunks flirting with him, buying him drinks and such. but sometimes he found it quite amusing, and he always found a bright side to most everything.}

^{but there was this one guy who was always there. hollywood even knew his full name - christopher ferdinand vincent. he was thirty-seven, lived in a nice house with his little boy, caleb, and was a light-skinned caucasian. it crept him out a little, how this man told him so much about himself, which compelled hollywood to do the same. and he did. he told chris that his name was hollywood, yet never gave out his middle or last names. he told him that he was twenty-four, and lived by himself in his own decent apartment. and he didn't need to describe his skin tone. he was paler than a ghost. the other man probably weighed around 165 pounds, and stood at a height of five feet and eleven inches. he didn't have any tattoos or piercings, and seemed like a pretty good guy. hollywood didn't have and tattoos or piercings, either, though stood taller at six feet and an inch, and weighed much less; 121.92 pounds, exactly. shut up, it's not like he can help it.}

^{he just thought the guy was a regular, you know? that he came to 'angel's moon' all the time. until the day that hollywood, or holly, came in just to get a drink himself, and didn't see him in his usual spot. at the time, he didn't think anything of it, and his racing heart finally stopped its racing and went back to its normal, steady pace when he saw chris slide into the chair he always sat in, right beside holly. they talked, laughed, just like usual when holly was behind the bar. he was getting caught up in rambling about something he totally forgot, not noticing the man slipping something into his drink. and the next thing he knew, holly could barely move on his own, his eyelids heavy, eyes barely open when the guy helped him to his car. he was put in the back seat, where he lied limply, only whimpering and making whiny noises.}

^{"you're perfect, holly."}

^---

^{present times}

^{holly gulped silently, sniffling as he backed away into the corner. he wrapped his arms around himself, turning his head away when the man tried feeding him some applesauce. tears rolled down his cheeks, shaking his head. the man sighed and put the bowl and spoon aside, trying to put his hands on the younger's shoulders, only to be pushed away. "stay away from me!" the man's eyes were full of anger and impatience, but his lower lip quivered and his eyes watered as he slapped hollywood. the younger let out a silent sob, covering the already bruised cheek, sliding down the wall until his bum hit the floor. the man took a step back, pulling at his hair. "you're too skinny, holly. you need to eat," chris said through gritted teeth before walking out, closing and locking the door behind him. he left the applesauce on the bed, hollywood turning his head to look at it.}

^{he drew his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around his legs, sitting up curled in the corner, turned sideways as he cried into his knees. he hadn't eaten in three days, but he'd lost his appetite long ago when he was drugged and kidnapped by the man he thought he was friends with. his only real friend. well, he thought he was a real friend, anyway. i mean, he wouldn't have drugged and kidnapped him if he were a real friend, or friend at all. not unless he were a fake friend.}

^{"i should have listened to mom. f.ck me," he whispered to himself, his voice so small and broken it hurt. he finally got his sobbing under control, though his breath was still a little shaky. he wiped at his eyes and stood up, looking over tot he window, curtains draped over them. he looked around before walking up to them, opening the curtains and the blinds. he peeked through, his whole body trembling, one arm wrapped around his tiny torso as it grumbled. this place was in the middle of f.cking nowhere, and he'd lost all hope of being found days ago. he'd been here for a week and a half, already. he didn't understand why chris hadn't killed him yet. he knew the man had killed others. he told him so. he told holly he killed them because they were too loud, too violent, too imperfect. he told holly that he was different, that he was completely perfect, so quiet and not violent at all, except for the raise of his voice. even when he raised his voice, holly was quiet. and chris said he loved that about him, that that was just one of the many things that made him so perfect.}

^{hollywood fumbled to close the blinds and the curtains when he heard footsteps getting closer and closer, and stumbled over to the corner in which he'd just been in. he sat down with his knees up to his chest, hugging his legs close. "holly? you know i love you. i'm sorry i hit you. let me see." chris knelt down beside him, and holly hesitated, but let the other man see his bruised cheek. "oh my, i'm so sorry, love. keep this on there, okay?" the man's voice was soft, but it was filled with nervousness. hollywood felt bad, knowing this man was mentally ill, so he decided it was best if he played along. he gave a sad smile, nodding his head as he took the ice-pack wrapped in a thin cloth, pressing it carefully against his bruised cheek. chris ran a hand through the younger's soft hair, kissed his forehead, then took the applesauce and left. he obviously locked the door, still afraid his perfect 'lover' would try to escape.}

^{the younger gulped silently, keeping the ice-pack pressed carefully to his cheek as he stood himself up. he shuffled over to the bed and sat down on the end of it, tears starting to fall down his cheeks once more. when he heard a loud noise, he flinched, looking frantically over to the door. his breathing picked up, and he trembled as he stumbled over to the corner. he could hear voices, but he was too scared to even try and make out what they were saying. he knew there was more than one, though. he'd dropped the ice-pack a few feet in front of him, and he hid his face in his knees, curling up on himself, though sitting up. all he wore was black boxer shorts and an over-sized sweatshirt, which was way, way too big on him. the sleeves were long, and the bottom covered his hips and his thighs just a little. he fiddled with the ends of the sleeves, trying not to have a panic attack.}

^{then the door was kicked open, and he heard a calm, yet frantic voice. "hollywood morse?" he whimpered, closing in on himself like he would just disappear. then he felt a hesitant hand on his shoulder, making him flinch and tense. he backed away, then was right back on his shoulder again. "hey, we're not gonna hurt you. we're here to help. chris can't hurt you anymore." the name sent a shiver down his spine, and he let out a shaky breath, shaking his head a little, keeping it hidden. when the other man, who he had yet to know the name of, tried helping him up, he only curled tighter. he did want to see chris. he wanted to say goodbye, because he sort of understood what that man was going through. his mother was mentally ill, too, and holly just had a soft spot for everyone. he always saw the light in everyone. plus, he was still in shock, absolutely terrified.}

[align=right][size=7pt][color=white][c] gee.
#funghoulfrankie[/size]

[fancypost bgcolor=; bordercolor=; borderwidth=0px; margin-bottom: -47px;][/fancypost]

[fancypost bgcolor=black; bordercolor=black; borderwidth=8px; width=500px; margin-bottom: -17px;][/fancypost]
[fancypost bgcolor=; bordercolor=; borderwidth=0px; font-family: georgia; font-style: normal; font-size: 31px; margin-bottom: -11px; letter-spacing: 1px; text-align: center;]i'm not even sad anymore.[/fancypost]

[fancypost bgcolor=transparent; border: 0px inset transparent; width: 530px; cursor: url(http://i49.tinypic.com/2e5303d.png), auto;][justify][sup][size=7pt]you know, i have had a few relationships. if i told you i wasn't a virgin, i'd be lying. i might have told you i wasn't, but pfft. if you couldn't tell, i lie a lot. it's not like i want to, but it's something that came naturally. it's something i couldn't help but do. lying was like something that kept me safe, but at the same time, it kept me at the edge. anyone could find out i was lying about anything, and i was glad no one had found out i was lying about a lot of things. and by a lot, i just mean a few humongous lies. there's another thing i was such a hypocrite about - i lied, but i hated it when other people lied to me. i lied every single day of my life. most of my life was just a big f.cking lie, but it really made me mad when someone lied to me. not so much mad as it did break my heart, but still. you get my point. lying was something big, no matter what anyone said, and it was something that shouldn't be used as often as it was in this world. this sick, dying world.

lying was something i felt protected under. i felt like no one could get past those steel walls, no one could get me to tell the painful truth. some things that people thought i was lying about were things i was being truthful about, and things that i was lying about people thought i was being truthful about. like saying everyone was beautiful, no matter what. that everyone had this light in them, even if it was the smallest bit. some people might think i'm lying when i say that, because it's something so big, but i'm being honest. then there are those lies, which people think are the truth. i tell people i've gone through that self-harming, which was actually truthful, but i was lying when i didn't say that i was still going through it. i think i held more lies than i did truths.

i wasn't saying that self-harm was just a stage, because if it were a stage, everyone would go through it. or would have. it wasn't just a stage, and anyone who said that just didn't understand. they might say they'd gone through the same thing, but did they really? did they really go through the same thing? like my mother, for example. she told me she understood, that she knew what i was feeling. i knew she didn't. she didn't get even half of what i was going through. my dad knew better than to say he knew what i was going through, which i mentally thanked him for. he cared, of course, and he still smothered me, but not as much as my mother. she... i loved her with all my heart, but i just wished she wouldn't have smothered me so much. trust me, i really loved the attention, all that love i was receiving. but not that freaking much. it hurt, they were smothering me so much. they didn't realize that them smothering me made everything worse. they never learned, either, but i didn't call them out on it. i never told them, because that's what i did - i didn't tell anyone a lot of things, which was technically lying, so-to-speak. it was just as bad as verbally lying, if not worse.

you know, we all suffer, one point or another. whether we decide to take it out on ourselves, or just grin and bear it is our choice. for me, it's both of those things. suffering was something that people took hard; everyone took it hard. at one point in everyone's life, their life will seem to just spiral downwards in this never-ending pit of anti-happiness and despair. just nothing but miserable days where you just don't want to get up, you want nothing more than to just sleep until all of the bad, negative thoughts go away. some people tell others; they accept the fact that they need help, and they go out in search of it. then there were those people who just didn't want help, though knew damn well they needed it. hey just slapped on a smile and told everyone they were fine, when in reality, they couldn't be any more horrible. and then there were the people who refused to believe they needed help. they wouldn't accept it, and wouldn't accept anyone's sympathy or pity. they'd push everyone away until they stopped asking, and they'd get worse and worse until they finally broke and just f.cking told someone.

our suffering was like an ice burg; what you see isn't even half of the suffering the sufferee is suffering. wow, that's a lot of suffering. the bottom of the ice burg - the part you can't see - is the biggest part. it's buried beneath us all, where no one can see. some people know that they hold more suffering than what others see. but others can't see it in themselves, just can't believe that they are suffering more than what others see. they just can't bring themselves to believe that the majority of their suffering was even there. they just wanted to get better, so desperately, and they did everything wrong because they thought they were doing everything right. they lied because they didn't want anyone to worry about them, or have that extra weight added on their shoulders. they didn't want to handle the guilt of someone worrying about them so much that they barely payed any mind to their own selves. they just wanted to bear through it, and get it done and over with.

that's how it is for me, anyway.

i mean, it wasn't that bad. it's not like... f.ck, don't cry. i could feel tears forming in my eyes, but i kept them shut, gnawing on my lip to keep it from quivering. the touch of hayden helped me push those tears away, and a faint smile etched across my face. his thumb was rubbing gently on the top of my hand, and it was soothing. i've said it so many times, but i really felt like i could tell him anything. i felt like i could trust him with my life. like if i said what i wanted to say, that he wouldn't tell anyone else. he wouldn't try and talk me into seeing some stupid therapist when i wasn't on tour - i hoped this wasn't my first and last tour. i'd surely die, then. music was my life, if you couldn't tell by me saying it practically a million times. it helped me through thick and thin, especially the roughest of times. it might not have exactly stopped me from these bad habits of mine, but it did help them die down a little. music was more than just bands playing on a stage. it was more than just singing and playing instruments. it was more than just listening; it was more than just music.

music was a lifestyle; it was lifeline to many. it was something that helped people through tough times, helped them smile an actual genuine smile, even if it was the faintest of all smiles. music was the reason many people were alive, today, and that people stopped their bad habits, or were working harder on trying to, and were succeeding at it. music brought people together to form a family in which everyone was loved and cared for. it was a comfort to those who needed it, and something that helped people reach out to another person. it helped people see that they were loved, that they were wanted in this horrible world full of cruel, fake people. music showed them that there were other people they could relate to, and that they weren't the only ones who were going through with whatever they were going through. music was more than just music - it was one of out of two things that kept people's hearts beating, the other being family.

our fans were family, to us. i knew i was speaking for other bands, too, when i said that. our music inspired people, and helped them so much that it saved their lives. music was something that you not only listened to, but felt in your heart and mind. it might not have been a physical feeling, but never have i seen or heard that physical feeling was enough. people needed other people they could depend on. they needed something that they could hold on to whenever they needed to be brought back up. music was that hand that you needed to pick you up off the ground, off of the bottom of the pit. music was in your heart, your mind, and your soul. and i felt like i was letting those people who did take their own lives, even though they listened to our kind of music every single day. though i knew they wouldn't want me to think that. and somehow i believed that it wasn't my fault; it wasn't anyone's fault. because sometimes music was enough, but some people just couldn't handle the weight of the world. and that was okay, because i truly understood. and i'm glad i do understand.

forever really was a long time, though i wished it were longer. though we hardly knew each other, something inside me wanted never to leave hayden. and i wanted him to never leave me behind, like all those other douchebags in school. it was kind of selfish, i know, but could you blame me? i've never felt something so strong in my entire life; something so strong that i could feel like i could tell this person anything and everything. it was a good feeling, it really was, but it was kind of scary. affection was something i felt every day, but not like this. not i held hands with lots of people, but something felt different; out of place, yet in a good way. i snuggled up to so many people, even fans, but not like this. it felt so different, and i couldn't explain it in any other way. it wasn't in a bad way, as i said before - it was in a really good way. it was like my heart just kept piecing together again. and even though there'd be cracks - little reminders and memories - my heart would still be patched up and together again. cheesy, i know, but that's what it felt like, being snuggled up to hayden. it felt so nice; so comforting and soothing.

it was really weird though, how we hardly knew each other, yet there was still something there that felt like more than just a friendship. like i wanted to snuggle up to him every day, wake up in his arms, fall asleep in his arms, and lay with him just to take tiny naps. like wanting to cook him breakfast and dinner, and go out for lunch, no caring what people said or thought. there was just something about, something so intriguingly different that it made my heart swell. i might be drunk, but i knew damn well i wouldn't forget this, especially if i woke up in his arms. i couldn't care less if the guys found us in his bunk, snuggled up together, sleeping soundly. the guys knew i was bisexual, and they'd probably mentally thank hayden because i was finally getting some sleep. i mean, they'd probably tease me, but it wasn't at all in a bad way. it didn't so much bother me, though it could get on my nerves sometimes. but we always ended up laughing it off, even if my laughs were quiet, choppy, and maybe not-so-genuine.

i leaned impossibly more into him, relaxing when he wrapped an arm around me. though i felt utterly self-conscious. even more so than i did just a few moments ago. i gulped silently at his words, humming when his head rested on mine. those words went straight to my heart, letting them sink in before i smiled a bit bigger. i opened my eyes, not noticing my hair falling into my eyes. it happened all the time when it was all unruly and sh.t. i kept back a shudder at his next words, letting out a shaky breath, though silent and almost inaudible. i knew he held truth in those words, which meant a lot. i lifted my head when i felt his fingers feather across my forehead, brushing strands of my hair away from my eyes. i smiled shyly up at him, almost sadly, and i opened my mouth to say something. but i closed it after a second or two, letting my head fall back down, the strands of hair falling back into my eyes like they always did. i rested my head back on my knees, taking in a deep breath.

i've been hiding things for so long, and i feel like i have to tell you now, because you kind of just told me probably one of your deepest secrets, i started, though couldn't bring myself to finish. i worried at my lower lip, closing my eyes in fear that tears would slip and start falling. after a few moments, i finally found enough courage in me to talk again. i wasn't ever really a 'brave soldier'. i never told anyone because i thought it was selfish. i... i'm so drunk... i let out a halfhearted laugh, though it came out as more of a squeak than anything. i guess people are right, huh? drinking doesn't make the problems go away. because i still want to throw up, still don't want to eat because i deserve it. i deserve the pain. i'm already gross, so why not make myself even more disgusting? [color=maroon]i'm rambling, now. i'm sorry. damn, i'm sorry for... saying, erm, sorry. and i was the one who thought up the whole 'deal'. dammit, patrick thomas walters, you are stupid.

i buried my face in my knees, feeling like a crybaby. i wanted to help him, but i was being so f.cking weak that it hurt. f.ck me. hard.

( out of character ) yu're so awesome. i wuffles chu. <3
oh my gosh, you da best! gotta love those poptarts, man. c;
actually, there's always a chance. nothing's impossible, and there are so many chances for everything. so, ha. ;3
ha ha, glad i'm not the only one. phew. and i just... i'm going to cry so much. i'm practically crying right now. x3
and i shall do anything for you, my lovely teddy. <33
well, i bet it was. it's probably the most beautiful fancypost i've ever seen. it's so simple, yet so complex. c;

[align=right][size=7pt][color=white][c] gee.
#funghoulfrankie[/size]