
If You Were Here.
Chapter One
(This is my first fanfic on this site, and I'm actually more into Frerard but I figured I should try something different. Also I'm not sure if the chapters will get actual names yet but I figure that's not AS important. I feel obligated to say that I absolutely LOVE their wives and I wish NO ill-will towards them. Lyn-z is beautiful and amazing, as is Jamia and I think their marriages are perfect and beautiful and adorable, but this is fanfic.)
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The band was alright, they were just your usual punks screaming into the mic and thrashing about on stage. I wasn’t here for the music anyway; the crash of drums and the ripping of vocals was just something that accompanied the whiskey to fog up my head. Just forget everything. Forget about my parents, or…parent.
It was slightly insane, the way I cared so much. I’m 21, I am no longer a child, I live on my own and my dad’s love life shouldn’t piss me off this much. It’s just…I really thought he loved mom, and when she died, daddy almost went back again. All he drew were monsters for the longest time, all the colour in our house bled away leaving things so dark. All the music became about pools of blood and bullets, and sometimes when my nightmares became too much and I went to seek comfort from him; I’d find him passed out around mom’s guitar.
I thought their love was forever, even in death; so what the Hell am I supposed to think when I come home to visit and he’s sucking some dude’s dick? I wish it only lust that induced that horrific moment, but that’s not like my dad. My dad takes love seriously, he doesn’t fuck around.
I chugged my whiskey, remembering that I’m supposed to be bleaching these feelings out and not looking back and fueling them. I ordered another drink; the first two hadn’t done their job. Just as I was almost completely taken hostage of the blinding lights and angry music, some asshole invaded my space.
“Isn’t that a little much alcohol for such a little lady like yourself?” The asshole smirked in a way that he probably thought was attractive. Arrogant, and possibly sexist, pay him no attention, my sober mind helpfully supplied. However, my mouth had other ideas.
“You’re not even that cute,” I gave him one cursory glance, before proving a point by chugging my third glass of whiskey.
“Whoa, you’re a bitch,” Asshole moved in closer, suffocating my personal bubble with the sickening stench of cheap cologne.
“Lemme’ have three more drinks, and I’ll be the bitch that tore your balls out.” I casually warned, but he didn’t get the hint and moved in closer, and slid his thick arms around my waist, I squirmed and made a face as I ordered the whole bottle.
“C’mon don’t be like that; I don’t know your name, and you don’t even know mine.” He swayed as buried his face into my hair. I shrugged him off rather forcefully, making the point to not look at him.
“And I’d like to keep it that way. Please leave me alone.” I enunciated, just in case he was slow, and I happily thanked the bartender who came with a bottle of whiskey for me.
“You should at least know my name,” he smirked as he ran his fingers through his thickly styled hair. I quirked an eyebrow, severely unimpressed with his “skills.”
“Oh…and why’s that?” I popped the cork and took a hearty swig, before putting the cork back on.
“Because, you’ll need something else to scream other than ‘fuck’ when you’re with me.” He purred “seductively” and leaned on my knees, making sure I could feel his boner. Suddenly all coherent thoughts ceased, and it was the red tidal wave of disgust that wracked my body into action. I jumped up; my sudden movement caused him to be propelled slightly backward enough so I could club him in the side of the head with my bottle. As he lied there unconscious the “wave” slowly settled down along with my thrashing heart. The only thing I was able to focus on at the moment was the jagged stump of a bottle with its saddening lack of whiskey. I was too caught up in the pretty array of shattered glass and my disappointment to notice another guy kneel down and take Asshole’s pulse, and I vaguely remember Asshole’s buddies shaking him awake and escorting his dazed ass through the sea of sweaty bodies. No one questioned my act of violence (which was completely warranted in my opinion and my father’s). Actually my father would probably have done worse—shit. My father. So much for forgetting about that!
“Man! That was sick!” My anger quickly ebbed away and I was confused. A teenage boy who was apparently watching the scene bounced on the balls of his feet.
“Uh…what?” I said, my mind slightly duller than usual. I peered at the boy, cocking my head to the side trying to see through his veil of hair that partly obscured his eyes. Suddenly he became shy and the bouncing turned into fidgeting.
“Like…uh, well your shirt says ‘Leathermouth’ and like that’s all cool so I came, to uh, see what other music you…and he looked like an asshole, and you seemed pretty—wait I mean pissed, and I was about to uh, uhm punch him for you, but like whoa you did it better than I could! And like, uh cool—,” the guy continued to struggle with his words, and I watched his hands in dazed fascination, which tangled themselves in his hair and twisted each other around. They were so expressive.
“Yeah that’s all cool and shit, but I’m Bandit,” I interrupted him in the middle of some sentence about him hoping I wouldn’t beat him up as well. (Though in his words, that’d be totally badass).
“Oh uh,” he laughed nervously, “so you like steal things?” He shuffled his feet looking even more uncomfortable. I sighed, used to this.
“No dickface, that’s my name!” I huffed incredulously, and he cowered.
“Sorry!” His shoulders tensed, and I felt slightly bad for being so abrasive.
“Okay, I’m slightly tipsy and probably seem abrasive, but that’s ‘cause of other stuff plus the uh…alcohol, but I’m not mad at you, silly.” I laughed in effort to make him relax, and then added seriously, “Unless you’re that guy…now introduce yourself?” I stuck out my hand for a handshake, he stared at it warily and took it, and after a second he looked slightly more at ease.
“I’m Miles,” he smiled coyly, and I could finally see his eyes…or at least kind of. (His hair still veiled them too much for me to really get a look. “Do you wanna s-smoke?”
“Oh hell yeah.” and we both relaxed, and followed each other to the outside.
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The band was alright, they were just your usual punks screaming into the mic and thrashing about on stage. I wasn’t here for the music anyway; the crash of drums and the ripping of vocals was just something that accompanied the whiskey to fog up my head. Just forget everything. Forget about my parents, or…parent.
It was slightly insane, the way I cared so much. I’m 21, I am no longer a child, I live on my own and my dad’s love life shouldn’t piss me off this much. It’s just…I really thought he loved mom, and when she died, daddy almost went back again. All he drew were monsters for the longest time, all the colour in our house bled away leaving things so dark. All the music became about pools of blood and bullets, and sometimes when my nightmares became too much and I went to seek comfort from him; I’d find him passed out around mom’s guitar.
I thought their love was forever, even in death; so what the Hell am I supposed to think when I come home to visit and he’s sucking some dude’s dick? I wish it only lust that induced that horrific moment, but that’s not like my dad. My dad takes love seriously, he doesn’t fuck around.
I chugged my whiskey, remembering that I’m supposed to be bleaching these feelings out and not looking back and fueling them. I ordered another drink; the first two hadn’t done their job. Just as I was almost completely taken hostage of the blinding lights and angry music, some asshole invaded my space.
“Isn’t that a little much alcohol for such a little lady like yourself?” The asshole smirked in a way that he probably thought was attractive. Arrogant, and possibly sexist, pay him no attention, my sober mind helpfully supplied. However, my mouth had other ideas.
“You’re not even that cute,” I gave him one cursory glance, before proving a point by chugging my third glass of whiskey.
“Whoa, you’re a bitch,” Asshole moved in closer, suffocating my personal bubble with the sickening stench of cheap cologne.
“Lemme’ have three more drinks, and I’ll be the bitch that tore your balls out.” I casually warned, but he didn’t get the hint and moved in closer, and slid his thick arms around my waist, I squirmed and made a face as I ordered the whole bottle.
“C’mon don’t be like that; I don’t know your name, and you don’t even know mine.” He swayed as buried his face into my hair. I shrugged him off rather forcefully, making the point to not look at him.
“And I’d like to keep it that way. Please leave me alone.” I enunciated, just in case he was slow, and I happily thanked the bartender who came with a bottle of whiskey for me.
“You should at least know my name,” he smirked as he ran his fingers through his thickly styled hair. I quirked an eyebrow, severely unimpressed with his “skills.”
“Oh…and why’s that?” I popped the cork and took a hearty swig, before putting the cork back on.
“Because, you’ll need something else to scream other than ‘fuck’ when you’re with me.” He purred “seductively” and leaned on my knees, making sure I could feel his boner. Suddenly all coherent thoughts ceased, and it was the red tidal wave of disgust that wracked my body into action. I jumped up; my sudden movement caused him to be propelled slightly backward enough so I could club him in the side of the head with my bottle. As he lied there unconscious the “wave” slowly settled down along with my thrashing heart. The only thing I was able to focus on at the moment was the jagged stump of a bottle with its saddening lack of whiskey. I was too caught up in the pretty array of shattered glass and my disappointment to notice another guy kneel down and take Asshole’s pulse, and I vaguely remember Asshole’s buddies shaking him awake and escorting his dazed ass through the sea of sweaty bodies. No one questioned my act of violence (which was completely warranted in my opinion and my father’s). Actually my father would probably have done worse—shit. My father. So much for forgetting about that!
“Man! That was sick!” My anger quickly ebbed away and I was confused. A teenage boy who was apparently watching the scene bounced on the balls of his feet.
“Uh…what?” I said, my mind slightly duller than usual. I peered at the boy, cocking my head to the side trying to see through his veil of hair that partly obscured his eyes. Suddenly he became shy and the bouncing turned into fidgeting.
“Like…uh, well your shirt says ‘Leathermouth’ and like that’s all cool so I came, to uh, see what other music you…and he looked like an asshole, and you seemed pretty—wait I mean pissed, and I was about to uh, uhm punch him for you, but like whoa you did it better than I could! And like, uh cool—,” the guy continued to struggle with his words, and I watched his hands in dazed fascination, which tangled themselves in his hair and twisted each other around. They were so expressive.
“Yeah that’s all cool and shit, but I’m Bandit,” I interrupted him in the middle of some sentence about him hoping I wouldn’t beat him up as well. (Though in his words, that’d be totally badass).
“Oh uh,” he laughed nervously, “so you like steal things?” He shuffled his feet looking even more uncomfortable. I sighed, used to this.
“No dickface, that’s my name!” I huffed incredulously, and he cowered.
“Sorry!” His shoulders tensed, and I felt slightly bad for being so abrasive.
“Okay, I’m slightly tipsy and probably seem abrasive, but that’s ‘cause of other stuff plus the uh…alcohol, but I’m not mad at you, silly.” I laughed in effort to make him relax, and then added seriously, “Unless you’re that guy…now introduce yourself?” I stuck out my hand for a handshake, he stared at it warily and took it, and after a second he looked slightly more at ease.
“I’m Miles,” he smiled coyly, and I could finally see his eyes…or at least kind of. (His hair still veiled them too much for me to really get a look. “Do you wanna s-smoke?”
“Oh hell yeah.” and we both relaxed, and followed each other to the outside.
Notes
A/N: Soooo how was the first chapter? I have the second one done, and saved on a word document but yeaaahhh, subscribe and rate and comment and I will update
Eeeeep! xD
@Dust_Angel
Yeah this website has been weird lately, I think it's running slower...because when I commented on a couple stories it took forever to submit and so I kept pressing submit I ended up posting lots of comments. xD
8/8/14