Posts by never.

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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]

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^{_{faceclaim - ryan ross}}

^{_{(c) London Summers}}

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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]

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[fancypost bgcolor=; bordercolor=; borderwidth=0px; font-family: georgia; font-style: normal; font-size: 21px; margin-bottom: -11px; letter-spacing: 1px; text-align: center;]"although the world is full of suffering, it is also full of overcoming it."[/fancypost]

[fancypost bgcolor=transparent; border: 0px inset transparent; width: 530px;][justify][sup][size=7pt]god, it felt like it was only yesterday that we got signed to this record label. don't judge me - i forgot what it's called. i'll remember it. anyway, this whole thing started out as a thing just for fun. you know, something to get our minds off of all the negativity. the guys had struggled in their pasts, too, and i know they still do, at times. the past can haunt you, you know? jace was pushed around a lot in middle school, and had gotten into drugs when he was in high school. he told us it was because he just wanted to fit in. he couldn't stand being pushed around, so he became one of those 'bad boys' that everybody practically feared. he's clean, now, with the help of his friends and family. it felt good to help him and the other guys out - it felt good to help others. and ben had been pushed around a little, though he'd built up some confidence and self-esteem when he entered high school. he'd turned into that funny, class-clown type; the guy almost everyone liked. but he struggled with keeping it up, because in reality, he was breaking on the inside. he knew everyone only liked him because the cheerleaders and the preps worshiped him. the jocks would always ask him for advice on how to get a girl and sh.t. poor benny. he only wanted to be himself - the funny, outgoing, but almost too sweet and loving dude he is. the guy who would never befriend someone who was fake. oh, and he has some major trust issues. you know how long it took him to trust me, jace, and andy? too long, if you asked me. but, you know - that's coming from me.

andy, andy, andy. oh, that awesome little sh.t. well, he's obviously not little, especially compared to me, but it's only a 'saying'. kind of. i get off track so easily, dammit. anyway, andy didn't get pushed around, but rather ignored in his school years. it got so bad that at one point, andy actually lashed out in class. he was obviously sent to the principal's office, and being his lucky self, had to start going to the councilor. his parents weren't bad parents, but the principal was scary. like, really scary. according to anyone who ever attended or worked at that school. andy got so depressed that even music didn't help. until he met us. sure, he gets depressed now and again, but isn't that normal? everyone gets depressed once in a while. it's like you go to bed super happy, and wake up just really, horribly sad, and just don't feel like doing anything. but andy had been suicidal in high school. he almost jumped off a bridge, but by then he knew us, and ben had found him after about an hour of looking for him. he hadn't been returning our calls and stuff, and we were having our usual little practice - which to us was really just some free time where we hung out and played music. thank the heavens ben found him, otherwise... god, that was so horrible to think about.

when we met, i was only visiting a friend in london. ben had gone on his own, since he was old enough, to meet up with some family who'd recently moved there. andy and jace had lived in the uk since forever, though. i guess going there got me that little accent with some of the words i spoke. i'd been there for four days when i met ben and the others. i was seventeen at the time, though my parents let me go off on my own because they let me do almost anything i wanted to. it was a good and bad thing. and it was obviously after i graduated high school. the other guys were a bit older than me, each with their own apartments, already. andy and jace shared a flat together, and they'd met ben just a few days before i got to the uk. they were all at some music shop that had caught my eye. jace and andy worked there, but they had just gotten off their shifts.

the music store was really nice, even if it was pretty small. it held personality, but not many people really went there. which was perfect. right as i first stepped foot in that store, i knew something great would come out of it. the music playing was one of my favorite bands - my chemical romance - and i instantly fell in love with it. old records, cd's, blankets and towels, incense, and even cassette tapes were all stocked in the little shop. it kind of looked like something that'd be in a nineties movie, but with all different kinds of music playing, whether it be new or older rock music. just rock music. the best part, though, was where the instruments were. there were keyboards, drum sets, guitars - electric and acoustic - and microphones. that's where i walked to immediately, a big smile on my face. and it was pure and genuine; a rare smile that should really be cherished.

the three were the only people in the store, at the time, it being nine o'clock at night, and all. the store closed at nine o'clock, but they hadn't turned the sign yet. but they didn't bother me. they told me only a year after we met why that was - because i looked so happy; because i looked like a tired skeleton, but completely content and joyful. in other words, they took pity on me. they gave me their sympathy, in which i didn't know they were giving. at the time. i was too mesmerized by the beauty of the store to even notice, anyway. every single one of us remembers the day we all met. or, that they met me. or, well - you know what i mean. ben had recognized me right away,and i him, but when my eyes landed on the instruments i was drawn away into my own little world.

that's where we all became friends. of course, ben hadn't really been friends with us at the start, but he soon warmed up to us. me being me; it took no time for them to be considered best friends, to me. we became like family within a week. oh, that friend i was visiting? more like going to her funeral. it really dragged me down, but those three picked me back up. we started meeting at the store after hours, and we ended up playing the instruments, making our own little songs. then i showed them some songs - lyrics - i'd been working on since i was sixteen, and we got so into it, it was like we were already on a stage. i ended up staying there with them, and of course, my parents gave a big fuss, but ended up letting me stay. ben and i got our own place, and after a year, we all decided to move to america. the three were so excited, but i was a bit reluctant. i didn't want to go back there, where all my bullies were. they could be roaming around where we just happened to move, and they could recognize me, and... i was just scared, to put it simply.

but we found ourselves another shop - or more like a small place hooked to other coffee shops and apartments. we bought the little place, and ben and the other two moved in with each other the apartment above what we'd make the music shop. they wanted me to go live with them, but then i found jason, who was looking for a roommate. i just happened to come across him while carrying records i had in a box to the soon-to-be music shop. we literally bumped into each other, and of course, the box dropped from my arms and i fell on my ass. classic. some of the records fell out of their little 'cases', but thankfully they weren't ruined. he'd helped, we talked, and then we had lunch together. then it started raining, and he asked me if i had anywhere to go. i'd been sleeping in the soon-to-be music shop, and when i told him that, he almost literally dragged me to his apartment, which was, oddly, attached to the same building.

after a while of practicing, jason helped us get our little band together. with his help, we got some gigs at bars and nightclubs even though i technically wasn't legally supposed to be in those places. the other guys were just old enough, which they bragged about all the time. then along came spunky little damon, and wallah - life got better than ever. the store got kind of popular, with us performing for the customers sometimes. jason helped out sometimes, as did damon, when they weren't doing anything else. we kept at it for three whole years - well, almost three years. i could still remember the guys' faces when we got that offer from that particular record label. we were just packing up after a gig at a bar - i was finally legal to drink - and he'd come up to us when the bar kind of died down a little. he was covered in tattoos, though only had his ears pierced; purple plugs. his hair was shaved on one side, the other with dark purple hair that reached his shoulder. the hipster glasses he wore were freaking perfect.

he told us we had the morning after the next day - not the morning after he talked to us, but the morning after that. being him, ben was a little iffy on it. he was content with the little gigs we had, but after a while, he decided that, yeah, it'd be cool. and it was hard to believe it was only a few months ago. this was our first tour, and holy sh.t, it was so amazing. even before we got signed, we still had our fans. and beforehand, we'd actually made our own youtube channel. that's probably where the record label found out about us. again, thanks to jason and damon. they're a big reason why we were on this tour bus; on this tour in the first place. damn, am i rambling? i feel like i'm jumping around and just rambling and not making sense. it's the alcohol. definitely the alcohol.

i gulped silently, not noticing he'd started speaking. i heaved out a silent breath i didn't know i'd been holding, smiling faintly. i knew he was drunk and all, but how could he just up and tell me something like that? i guess he was right, though - keeping secrets just made things harder. especially when you held more than friendly affection towards another. i wasn't sure if that's what i held for hayden, but i was never sure. i never held any affection like that for anyone. i had my stupid crushes, but those were just, you know, stupid crushes. i was just a kid, you know? affection was just something that was... hard, for me. it was like i didn't know how to feel more-than-friendly affection. love was such a powerful thing, and such a big word. like hate - hate was such a strong, big word. they were complete opposites, and they were used in a lot of situations in which they shouldn't be.

my eyes were barely halfway open, staring downwards. i licked over my lips, and i noted i needed to get some chapstick. i tensed a little when i felt him lift my hand, only glancing briefly as he placed one of those feather light, barely-there kisses on the top of my hand. my cheeks flushed even more, and i knew it wasn't just from the alcohol running through my system. he just kissed my f.cking hand. that's so f.cking cheesy, and i laughed little, though only mentally. on the outside i only showed that i was flustered. my eyes were cast down, trying not to look as flustered as i was. no one's ever kissed my hand before. not even any of the guys, or jason or damon. it kind of soothed me, just the feathery lightness of it. it was gentle, and unexpected.

i held back a wince when he told me i wasn't selfish. it made my stomach twist, but i quickly shewed it away when he wrapped his arm back around my waist. i gulped silently, trying to smile a little bigger, but to no avail. it was fake, and it just didn't feel right. it never felt right, but it just felt especially not right, right now. i finally looked up and over at him, finally smiling a little bigger at his words. i couldn't help but giggle at his laugh and the darkening of his cheeks. the flush of his cheeks seemed to be contagious, though giggling was kind of embarrassing. i hid my face against his shoulder, almost muttering another 'sorry'. but i bit on my lip, the smile only widening. alcohol, dude. maybe i wouldn't be such a mopey drunk.

and just like that, the smile was gone. i really, really wanted to tell him. i needed badly to just get it out. at least then i wouldn't be lying to everyone. tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, and i gnawed on my lower lip to try to keep it from quivering. i kept my face hidden, letting out a shaky breath. my hands shook a little, and i squeezed his hand. you can't tell anyone, hayden. no one." my voice wavered a little, but it was barely noticeable. thank the lord. i gulped silently, shutting my eyes tightly. i didn't wait for anything from him, and finally just let the secret slip. [color=maroon]i'm a hypocrite. i... i hurt myself. not like the way you'd think; not... c-cutting. i wished i was as strong as hayden was. maybe i would be, soon enough. i felt a little better, already, just telling someone. telling hayden.

( out of character ) pfft, whatever. you're the beautiful one here, love. <33
and a poptart for my cuddly teddy. c;
mhm, i'm soo good. i always win, when it comes to these little wars. ;3
ugh, imma cry anyway. i can't help eet! it's just too adorable and the feeelllsss
and me, you. <3
well, that's what i do, my lovely teddy bear. <33 so much lovey dovey shtuff.
i'm so sorry this is such a late reply. i've been so freaking busy these past few days. bonfires and sleeping and catching up on my show. sowwy this post sucks, too. might be pretty long, but the quality is horrid. //shame//

[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]

^{_{faceclaim - ryan ross}}

^{_{(c) London Summers}}

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[fancypost bgcolor=; bordercolor=; borderwidth=0px; font-family: georgia; font-style: normal; font-size: 19px; margin-bottom: -11px; letter-spacing: 1px; text-align: center;]"death is not the greatest loss in life. the greatest loss is what dies inside us while we live."[/fancypost]

[fancypost bgcolor=transparent; border: 0px inset transparent; width: 530px;][justify][sup][size=7pt][color=black]he was more than scared when he'd woken up in this place. one moment he'd been at the bar, being dragged out to a car, then he was in a completely unfamiliar house. he wasn't even chained to anything. the door was locked, and there was nothing to pick the lock with. he'd told himself he wouldn't cry, that everything would be fine. maybe he was just dreaming. maybe he was just having a horrible nightmare. but then he walked in the room, carrying a pair of boxer shorts and a hoodie. chris had had this soft, nervous smile on his face, and the glitter in his eyes told hollywood that he was indeed mentally ill. the younger had started trembling when the man had touched his shoulder, and flinched away from his touch. he'd backed away to the corner he was in now, and chris only told him to take a shower. of course, hollywood obeyed because it was only the first day, and he was scared sh.tless. after a few days, he grew a little braver, and started to say 'no' and shake his head, resisting the man's words. that's when chris started hitting him.

the young man gulped silently, running his shaking hands through his unruly hair. he kept his face hidden, tears continuing their way down his pale face. he kept back whimpers, lightly brushing his fingers over his bruised cheek. he kept his eyes shut tightly, trying to hold the tears back, but to no avail. he opened his eyes, though barely halfway, his eyelashes fluttering. he let out a shaky breath, scooting impossibly closer into the corner at the sound of a deeper voice. it was soft, though, but holly couldn't bring it in himself to look at anyone. he couldn't bring it in himself to move from his trembling position, no matter how soft their voices were; no matter how sweet or gentle they were. he was still scared someone would hit him if he didn't do as he was told. they hadn't asked him anything, but he knew they would soon enough. he didn't really believe they'd hurt him, but he was still terrified. he'd never forget this.

hollywood's mother was in a mental institution, and he hadn't seen his father in years. he never had many friends, so he had no one. he had no one to talk to, no one to help comfort him once he got home. he was tempted to give them the finger, tell them to leave him alone without using words, but he didn't. his shoulders tensed a little more when the deep, soft voice was directed toward him. he shook his head a little, eyelids too heavy fro him to keep them open even halfway. he let out another shaky breath, licking his dry, chapped lips. andy. he liked that name. andrew. he slowly turned his head, though kept it rested on his knees. he managed to open his eyes, blinking hard a few times to clear his vision as best he could. he had a tattoo of a feather on his neck, and a few piercings. his hair was raven-like, though looked soft and almost fluffy. his eyes were his best feature - they were a bright, icy-blue. they were captivating, and holly couldn't look away. "i... i know," he responded. his voice was broken and utterly quiet, almost inaudible. "where is he?"

( out of character ) yes, i love that gif. he's so freaking beautiful. <33
your post was perfectly fine, hon. sorry for this cruddy post, though, and for it's lateness. i've been pretty busy these past few days, and my muse was drained from me.

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

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[fancypost bgcolor=; bordercolor=; borderwidth=0px; font-family: georgia; font-style: normal; font-size: 29px; margin-bottom: -13px; letter-spacing: 1px; text-align: center;]if you say goodbye today[/fancypost]

[fancypost bgcolor=transparent; border: 0px inset transparent; width: 530px;][justify][sup][size=7pt][color=black]love was such a complicated feeling. i loved my family, my friends, and all the fans, of course. but i mean more-than-friendly kind of love. for me, it was always hard to decipher the meaning of love when it came to being more than friendly with someone. i'd dated a few people, but i was never sure if i was actually in love with them. i always told myself i was, that we were meant to be, but what was i supposed to think when that person left me behind? more-than-friendly affection was just something that never really came to me, i guess. maybe all those cheesy movies were right - everyone had a soul mate; someone they were meant to be with. but not everyone got to meet their soul mate before the end of their life. i used to think that i'd never find that person - i'd never find my 'other half'. if you couldn't tell, i've always been awfully pessimistic. i'd always find the bad things in everything, no matter how good they were.

it was hard to love a person who didn't love themselves, wasn't it? i mean, it would take a lot of patience and time, you know? it'd probably get annoying, and the other person wouldn't be able to take their 'i hate myself' attitude. that's why i never told anyone - i was afraid they'd leave me because they'd get annoyed with waiting for me to start loving myself again. which would probably never happen until i was dead. actually, i'd probably continue to hate myself after i died. not that i would have a mind to think, or anything. maybe? i mean, i wasn't saying their couldn't be an afterlife, or an 'other side' - i'm just not so sure. like, is there a hell? is there a heaven? i guess we'll all find out when we get there, huh? religion played such a big part, even though most may not know it. so many people - especially parents - think so many of these bands are satanic because of all the screaming, the way they dress, and some of the lyrics. it's not satanic - it's called atheist. there's a big, big difference. i wouldn't really say i'm an atheist, though. i'm just that kind of guy who doesn't know. i'm sort of a free thinker, i guess. or something like that.

back to the whole 'hate myself' thing; i wouldn't say i hated myself. i don't think anyone could ever hate themselves. i'll say it a thousand times - hate is a very strong word. i don't think it should ever be used, but there are tons of people out there who would beg to differ. hate was a stupid word, really. it really hurt people when someone said they hated them, even if they may not show it. some people may not really be hurt by it, but i know damn well that they care a little about supposedly being hated. there were so many people who said they hated me back in school, and the band obviously had our haters. but the past is the past, i guess, and it should really just stay that way. the haters we and all these other bands have only makes us stronger, you know. apart from our fans' support, those haters just pushed us into doing more for all of the people who cared and related to us. it pushed us to do more for them, i guess. did that make any sense? i'm not making much sense, am i?

i totally regretted getting drunk. all these memories i had fought so hard to keep pushed in the back of my mind were flooding back. i didn't care what anyone said or thought about me, anymore, as said a million times, but the physical hurt could be unbearable. being a small guy in school was hard. you knew you were going to get picked on, pushed around all the time if you weren't popular. it wasn't unexpected the first time i got shoved into a locker, which was in the eighth grade. i hadn't fought them, and i didn't even try to resist. i just let them shove me in, and i sat - because that's how f.cking small i was - and waited. and waited. and waited. it wasn't until the end of the day, when one of the jocks opened the locker because it was theirs that i got out. and that's how i developed my fear of small and confined places. i had an anxiety attack one time, and everyone started calling me 'pussycat patty'. not really a good name, if you wanted to hurt somebody's feelings, but it did embarrass me. a lot. i mean, even girls would be embarrassed by that, right? unless it was just playful, or something, obviously.

oh jeez, i remember when my mom dressed me up as a cat - not a tiger, or a lion; a freaking black cat - for halloween, one year. i was like seven or eight, and even then i begged my mom not to make me go out trick-or-treating. don't get me wrong, i loved candy, but i just didn't like that there were so many other people roaming around. it wasn't the fact that it was dark, or that there were people dressed in costumes - it was the fact that there were so many people out already. halloween was the holiday i'd rather have spent in my room, watching tim burton movies. but nope - that year, my mother decided it was time for me to get my ass out there and get some f.cking candy from other people. i argued with them, even if i was just a little kid, and i did have a pretty good point when i said "didn't you tell me never to take candy from strangers?" mhm, i got them there. they were speechless, let me tell you, and my dad nodded and agreed with me, telling my mom i had a point. but my mother wouldn't have it, and since it was always up to the mothers, my dad let her take me out trick-or-treating. and she held my hand the whole time. yeah, great for the social life i didn't have.

my mom made me trick-or-treat from then until i was twelve. from that point on, i spent halloween making edits for frank iero's birthday, watching horror and tim burton movies, and dancing around in my room while singing along to music. and if i really wanted to, i'd try writing poems or something, and drawing or painting. i was never really good at painting, but it was something that kept my mind off of things. i'd always have my music blaring loud, blasting at full volume so even the neighbors could hear - literally. i'd blast my chemical romance the most, of course, and i knew it pissed people off. i just didn't give a sh.t. i never turned it down, locked my door so neither of my parents could get in, and dancing around and singing along always brought a smile to my face. i'd giggle at myself, thinking of how much it pissed people off. i think there were a couple of times where neighbors finally complained about it to my parents, saying that it was way too loud, and that the music i played 'inappropriate' or all the little ones, and that even i shouldn't be listening to it. assholes. so what if one of the songs says 'so why don't you blow me?' it's not like kids know what that means. pfft. and so what if there are bad words? parents say bad words all the time around their kids.

i was kind of apathetic as a kid. like i didn't care for sports or learning at all. i was apathetic about learning, school in general, and completely uninterested in living my life to the fullest. i was so unenthusiastic about almost everything, and i guess that's one of the main reasons why i got picked on. because i was 'boring' and 'too serious' in other people's eyes. they probably saw me as an easy target; someone who wouldn't fight back. and i didn't fight back, as i think i've told you before. i wasn't as apathetic now as i was then, of course, about some things. i hadn't dropped out of high school, as you should know already, but i didn't even think once about going to college. i was totally uninterested in that, and i still was. now i wasn't encouraging anyone to not go to college - it was just something that more than likely wouldn't have worked out for me. plus, if i had gone to college, i wouldn't have met my band mates, or jason, or damon. i wouldn't be here right now, making music like i had always wanted to do. helping people, saving lives - if you couldn't save your own life, the least and most you could do is save others'. it helped you live subconsciously longer.

i sound mean for saying this, but i really didn't understand what was so great about getting drunk. maybe it was just me, though. nothing good came out of getting drunk - at least, for me. but it was bound to happen sooner or later, right? thank the heavens it was sooner rather than later. i'd probably have killed myself i drank so much if hayden wasn't here. it didn't relieve any of my problems, and it didn't release me from any stress or anything. if anything, it just made it worse, and thank the heavens - even though i'm not sure there is one - that hayden was here. i'd probably have had a panic attack, or something. actually, i wouldn't be drunk right now, but then again, i wouldn't have gotten that dirty little secret of mine out. ha, that reminds me of that song; that beautiful, truthful song. when we live such fragile lives, it's the best way we survive. go that right. lying is the best way we survive - the best way i survive, anyhow. it's not the best way for some, but i'd be lying if i said it wasn't for me. ha. see?

i almost flinched when i heard hayden's voice, soothing me back into reality. my eyes were barely halfway open, eyelashes fluttering in attempt to keep the tears from falling. i couldn't look at him, though i kind of wanted to just to see if what he was telling me was the truth. i don't know why i've grown such an issue with trust, at this moment - hayden was probably the sweetest guy i've ever met, besides jason and damon. he told me his little secret, and i still couldn't believe i'd told him mine. it wasn't really a big deal, but i guess at the same time that it was. to me, it was too big of a deal. i shouldn't be so hypocritical, or selfish. i knew he told me i wasn't selfish, but he was only trying to comfort me. i knew i was selfish, and something in me got me thinking i always would be. even if i'd give the only food i had, and ever would have, to someone else who didn't have any. even if i'd die for anyone; and i mean anyone. and i'd keep on living for anyone, even if living turned into a challenge.

the wave of self-consciousness only crashed harder and harder, and i was on the brink of just having ti all come out. i kept my barriers shut, though, resisting the urge to clutch on to hayden when he pulled me impossibly closer. i don't think we could have been any closer, we were so close. it was like we were just one whole person. i would have chuckled at the thought, but the sound of him shushing me interrupted my train of thoughts. i sniffled, wiping at my nose with the back of my 'free' wrist. i held tightly onto his hand, like if i let go, i'd fall into a deep pit and never come out again. like if i let go, i'd just die. i gulped silently when i felt him lift my head up so i'd have to look in his direction, and closed my eyes when he brushed the tears that had escaped my eyes away with his thumb. i opened them again after a few moments, sniffling silently. i couldn't help but give a small, sad little smile, bringing my own free hand up to caress one of his cheeks. i couldn't help myself, okay? and yes - his skin is as soft as it looks.

i could see the truth in his eyes, which i noted as a beautiful brown color. i subconsciously kissed his cheek, but it wasn't like i didn't do that to everyone, because i did. i gave everyone kisses on the cheek, or the forehead, and tons of hugs. lots and lots of hugs. i was a hugger, okay?

( out of character ) yes huh! you're a million gabajillion times more beautifuller! (has always been a word, in my dictionary c;)
you're sweeter than a lollipop. ;3
well, alrighty then! you got me, there, baby cakes. but i still win. c;
ugh, i know! i made patty kiss his cheek because it was all getting to be too much and i had to and I WILL GO DOWN WITH THIS SHIP
well you are the most amazing, beautiful, lovable, adorable little teddy bear anyone could ever ask to be the baby bunny of. <33
not ashamed to say the same, love. c;
are you kidding me?!!?! that post was absolutely magnificent, just like all of your other posts! sorry that this one is so short and crappy and all rambly, and just overall sh.tty. i'm tired, my mom is babysitting my niece and baby boy of a good friendthey're so annoying, sometimes, and i'm just pooped. but i wanted to get somethin' up for my boo bear. <3

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[fancypost bgcolor=transparent; border: 0px inset transparent; width: 530px;][justify][sup][size=7pt][color=black]i never asked to be the way i am. sometimes i'd even pray to a god that i wasn't even sure was there, or real, that all this suffering would go away, so i could be stronger for the people who needed me. just because i was pushed around and bullied didn't mean i had lost my dream of helping people. it only pushed me to do better, if anything. i've said it so many times, but without those bullies, i wouldn't be here. so thank you to my bullies, who pushed me to do what i have always wanted to do. if it weren't for you, i wouldn't be saving people's lives. and i'm not working somewhere like f.cking mcdonald's. yuck. sometimes i wondered what my life would have been like if i wasn't bullied at all. would i still be here, in a band, or would i have taken a different career path? would i have gone to college? would i have never met jason and damon, or ben, jace, and andy? would i be dead? and then sometimes i'd wonder what my life would have been like if i was bullied, but never got here, met the friends i have now, and was just that mopey kid who trembled in the corner. i would have given up a long time ago, if i weren't here, right now. if i weren't in a band, and if i hadn't met the friends i have, i mean. i would have overdosed a long, long time ago.

i can't tell you how many times i should have went to the hospital, but my mom nor dad was at home with me, and it's not like i needed a babysitter. i was thirteen and up, and i persuaded them easily that i would be perfectly fine. there were just those days where i literally couldn't get out of bed. my chest would feel like it'd collapse, and my ribs felt shattered. it hurt every time i took even the smallest, shallowest of breaths. my head would swim, and my vision would get all blurry, but painfully slow, until all i could see when i opened my eyes were little colorful dots. i wouldn't be able to move, no matter how hard i tried. it just felt weird, and it hurt my stomach and made me dizzier when i did try to move. i've had my fair share of seizures, and they're all my fault. i'd forget to drink anything for a few days, because i didn't eat, either. it's not like i tried to dehydrate myself, but it just happened sometimes. i was glad my parents were never there when i had one; they would have freaked out every time, and we'd have to go to the hospital every month or two. god, that makes it sound so horrible, but really? it wasn't all that bad. i'm not saying having a seizure was good, because that'd just be... no. it's just not as bad as people say it is.

i'd be lying if i said i hadn't tried getting myself to have a seizure, sometimes. i know, i know - i was f.cked up. i've said it like a million times; you don't need to rub it in. god, but i was really f.cked up, man. i mean, who would actually try and have a seizure? those things were something that should not be messed with. can't you die if you dehydrate yourself enough? duh. and i guess it was only worse that i never ate. i've probably had about fifty seizures, or so, in my entire life. about a third of those were on purpose. i have to say that i am ashamed of that, and that if i could take all those on-purpose-seizure times back, i totally would. i never told anyone about that; not even jason or damon. again, i didn't tell them about my, erm, eating problems; they just figured it out on their own. i mean, it wasn't that hard, was it? i'm glad no one knows but them, of course, but was it seriously hard to figure out? well, i guess i was doing good at hiding it then, huh? not to sound cocky, or anything.

the only time i went to the hospital wasn't because i was dehydrated, but because i hadn't eaten in forever, and i was too weak to do anything. i couldn't even get myself up to go to the bathroom without my knees buckling after the second i stood up. i could barely even sit up without feeling like there were a billion bricks pushing me down. my mom and dad had gotten home to me curled up on the kitchen floor. how i got all the way down the stairs without tumbling down was something beyond me. i have no idea how i did that. i probably crawled, or just slid down with a sleeping bag, or something. more than likely the latter. i had weird, stupid ways of doing things; like getting down the stairs when i could barely move without feeling sick to my stomach. or getting the remote from the coffee table when i was lying down on the couch, and it was out of arm's reach, and i didn't want to get up. f.cked up? that was just an understatement. i was like a f.cking alien to this earth.

i didn't really remember, but i think i slid down the stairs on a sleeping back - thank the heavens the stairs were the soft kind. it probably took me five million years to get over to the kitchen. i didn't mind if i died, at the time, so why in the hell did i go to the kitchen? i mean, i was fourteen, and i still had my whole life ahead of me, but i didn't know that. i didn't know i'd be where i was today. i just thought i'd die young, you know? i was afraid of a lot of things, but living was one thing i wasn't afraid of. i wasn't afraid to die, but i wasn't afraid to keep on living, either. i could die and i wouldn't care, but if i kept living, it'd just be, you know, whatever. i believe everything happens for a reason, as cheesy as it sounds. you meet a person at a coffee shop, you get married, you fight, you divorce, and you move on. it all happens for a reason, right? it just meant that that person wasn't "the one". in my case, you get stuffed in lockers, pushed down, called names, and beaten up, and become someone who saves lives through the beauty of music. a big change, a big step, and a meaningful reason. there's always a reason behind everything, and everything happens for a reason; sometimes even more than one reason.

one thing i'd hate if anyone found out was how they'd probably think i wished i could be someone else. i'd rather keep these little problems of mine than be someone else. if i could trade problems with someone else, i probably would. i'd never trade bodies or personalities, otherwise i wouldn't be me, you know? i've thought about being someone else, though, when i was younger. i'd always wish i could be someone else, and have someone else's life. i'd think about how i wouldn't have all these negative thoughts, and i'd actually be healthy. how happy i'd be if i changed into a certain someone else. but by the time i was sixteen, i realized that if i was another person, that i'd end up being the same person i was. i'd end up having all the same negative thoughts, and all the same problems, if not more. just let that sink in for a moment. it might not make sense at first, but just, you know; just think about it for a second.

i can't believe some of the things i've done or thought in my past; or now, even. starting when i was thirteen - of course - i started thinking about taking a blade to my skin; my thighs, hips, wrists, whatever. i had already started my 'not eating on purpose' and 'purging on purpose' thing, but it just didn't feel like it was enough, i guess. i knew it was super selfish of me, but i was already selfish, so why not? i did do it once, but it wasn't deep enough to scar. then i did it again the next day, and the day after that. i just made little shapes, like hearts and stars, and engraved lyrics or names; again, not deep enough to scar. sometimes they'd bruise a little if i wasn't careful, but it's not like i cared. it just gave me some sort of clarity - it brought me into a state of euphoria; just complete and utter bliss. i know it was horrible, but it was true. it was another thing that i could finally control. i felt like i had no control over anything, and that and not eating and purging were some things that i could control. i never cut deep enough to scar, because i'd mark just under my collarbones, too. it was always on weekends and fridays, of course, and in the summer. i could always excuse them as scratches from falling, or something equally stupid, if my parents asked; because no one else ever asked. except for the bullies. you can guess what they'd say.

i hesitantly took my hand away from his cheek, starting to nervously fiddle my thumbs and my other fingers. i gulped silently, the heat in my cheeks growing, though only a little. i smiled a little more, though still utterly shy, that face he made when i'd caressed his cheek stuck in my mind. the way his eyes fluttered shut, and then the way they slowly fluttered back open when i kissed his cheek. i couldn't keep my gaze off of him, so i took the time to actually look at him. his eyes were a brilliant golden-brown, brighter than the sun; shut up, i'm a total cliche - i know. his hair was unruly and looked just as soft as his skin, and i just wanted to run my hands through it, brush it with my fingers. his skin wasn't too pale, but it wasn't too tan, either. it was rather the perfect shade, like a sort of creamy color. and let me tell you, it was really soft. as weird and stupid as it sounds, i could hold his hand all day, and caress his cheek until my hand and my arm started hurting. and even when he sat, he was still taller than me - i mean, i was shorter than most everyone, as i've already told you. and when he smiled; holy sh.t, his smile, man. it was so cheesy, but his smile made my heart melt, and in the good kind of way. no matter how small it may be, his smile was perfectly beautiful. and honestly, i thought hayden was perfect. no - he was perfect, and is perfect. as perfect as someone could get.

sh.t, i was so sentimental. i felt liked crying so hard, right now. i just wanted to cuddle and smile and cry and help this lovely son of a b.tch. i wanted to hug him and sooth him, and i wanted to be that person he'd come to whenever he was upset and hurt, or if he just wanted to talk. i wanted to be that shoulder he needed when he cried; i wanted to be that person he wasn't afraid to cry around. because crying wasn't a sign of weakness, it was just a sign that someone's been strong for too long. it was different for me, and maybe some others out there - i mean, i've never been strong. i've always been too weak, and i think it's because i forgive too easily, and most of the time, trust too easily. the guys say i'm far too sweet and caring, and that i should just think of myself, for once, before i explode. whatever, they can suck my f.ck. i'm selfish, already; i don't need to start thinking of myself any more. i'd die. i'd f.cking die.

i was a little surprised when i felt his free hand in my hair, but it felt good. then all at once, he felt a pair of soft lips on my own, and my eyes widened a little. before i had a chance to respond in the way i wanted to, the passionate yet short-lived kiss was over. but his lips ghosted over mine for a moment or two, giving me time to let my eyes close, then open just a little more than halfway after a second. my smile had dropped, but a faint smile etched across my face, the heat in my cheeks feeling too much to bear, like the skin there would just melt off. but i didn't care, and i completely ignored it. he just kissed me. hayden f.cking kissed me. wait, why did he kiss me? he didn't like me like that; i'm sure no one did. those fan girls - and fan boys - had their little crushes, but those were just crushes, you know? i had the biggest crush on mikey way for the longest time, but again, it was just a stupid crush. but hayden couldn't have a crush on me. he couldn't like me like that, no way. just... no. just no.

but that sheepish look, that little grimace he gave me, the way he said my name; it made me feel a little bad. i don't know why - it just did. i still smiled faintly, shaking my head a little at him. i put my fingertips of my free hand on my lips, brushing over them very lightly. i still had that faint smile on my face, and i hadn't noticed i also turned my gaze downwards. i looked back up at him, and took my free hand to gently lift his head up so he'd be forced to look at me, and i couldn't help myself. i can't believe i actually had the courage to do it, but i pressed my lips to his. i once again caressed one of his cheeks with my free hand, squeezing his with my other hand. the kiss wasn't hard, deep, hungry, or needy - it was soft and comforting, yet a little passionate at the same time. my eyes fluttered shut, humming silently. i hadn't meant to, but i didn't care. i was too busy kissing hayden to care. hmph.

( out of character ) you're more beautifuller and amazinger than anyone i've ever met, and everyone i've never met. c;
hmph. you're sweeter than the sweetest thing in the whole universe. //sticks tongue out at'chu//
it makes me utterly happy. heh. ;3
it's alright, darling. i would have made patty kiss hayden if you hadn't made hayden kiss patty, first. <3 i totally agree. ;3
with my lovely teddy bear beside me. improvisation. <33 c; oh yeah, double smiley face.
phew, i'm sure it wasn't wonderful, but i guess we'll just agree to disagree. c; and thank you, hon. i'm here, too, if you need anything, or if ya just want to chat. <3 d'aw, stop making me blush, you. </3
//sigh// why must these people be so freaking beautiful and adorable? alex, jack, patty, jason, damon, vic, kellin, ect, ect. it's not fair. //pouts//

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