gloryfades21

Thu, 22 Jul 2004 15:43:04 GMT

Don't yell so loudly, I said I was sorry.

Title: It's Only You, Beautiful (Chapter 15)
Pairing: Tony/Jesse, John/Jesse
Summary: HS fic
Disclaimer: Not real
Dedication: boysandbruises because I can and will. Imissyoupleasecomeback.
Author's Notes: Other chapters are on my LJ, please R&R because I love you. AndIonlycontinueforyouguys.

Ch. 15 -

The red digital numbers on the clock read 4:07 and you're rocking back and forth on your heels, staring at the front door aimlessly while wallowing in self disgust. Misery really does love company because without it, you're stuck with no one but yourself and that means being alone with your own thoughts. They're driving you to the point of insanity and you think you're going to throw up your stomach's insides soon. The places in your wrist where the skin was torn apart are starting to itch and throb sorely. Self mutilation is not self improvement, you've just reached a level of misery that you didn't even know existed.

You feel like your insides have been lit on fire and right now they're shaking and bouncing inside of you. It's almost like a forest fire, killing and devouring everything in it's path because it can and will. Nervously tug your sleeves down over your wrists, until you're clinging onto the worn material in your palms. Settle back down on the floor again, wishing that you could spontaneously combust from your imagined fire. Close your eyes shut and you're still seeing images of Tony flash through, as if they're part of some movie. The movie seems to pause though, and the image you're seeing, is not of Tony.

It confuses you that seemingly, out of nowhere, an image of John, who you just met, would pop up and you want to scream because you're not multi-tasking and you think you're brain's going to implode from all of the pressure being put on it. But the doorbell rings, and you're saved from those thought provoking images. Pull yourself off the ground, and walk to the floor, the sound of shuffling feet echoing in your ears as you drag the door open. Stare at the two figures in front of you and you wonder if that image was heaven sent, because the real thing is softly smiling at you.

"Hey Jess, look what the cat dragged in." Despite his light tone, Craig's eyes go to yours immediately, the worry that filled them since the morning is still there. You feel like you're being put through a medical examination and Craig's eyes are all those weird instruments that they use. He doesn't miss the way you keep on trying to tug down your sleeves.

"But Craig...you dragged him in," you reply, in your soft drawl that you can't seem to lose. You think it's from all the crying and screaming you've been doing; they can't be too good for your vocal chords.

John smirks at you and raises his hand in a sort of half wave, looking like he's feeling awkward and you resist the urge to jump up and hug him. You do get up however and rest your back against the wall behind you.

"...don't be a smart ass Jesse." There's relief in his voice, probably because it was the first time since...the thing, that you hadn't said something completely morbid that came from a bleeding heart.

Shrug, the muscles of your shoulder rolling backwards, finding yourself smiling silently at your new companion, that Craig probably forced over to keep a watch on you. Realize what you're doing and the smile turns into a frozen look of confusion in yourself because all of this is beginning to feel awfully familiar. And Tony was Amy, just in another form almost and...

"I'm gonna go see Michelle tonight, so just like call her house if you need anything," Craig tells you, while your eyes blink shut. Everything confuses you and maybe you're chemically inbalanced; that would explain a lot of things.

Your life is an overly-cliched soap opera, and all you're missing is the orphaned teenager to show up on your doorstep, demanding your love and money. The door clicks shut, re-open your eyes to find yourself alone with the boy that has the scent of peach aftershave lingering around him and a constant smile that you take comfort in.

"Your brother, my sister...I don't think I'm over that yet." His brown eyes look up to seek your own, but your only response is to practically gape at him. Michelle Nolan...John Nolan, his younger sister, it's all starting to make sense now. From when you first met him, you could see that he was different from all of Craig's other friends. The fact that he wasn't a complete jerk gave him away. Sure, you had seen Michelle before, and John too for that matter, but you never thought they were connected in that way.

"I...I never knew that until now." Shake your head in pure disbelief, the feeling of stupidity coming to mingle with all the others now.

But he smiles at you, and just like that, it disappears, like some freak magic show. From there the show continues and you find yourself laughing softly in all the right spots from the stories and jokes he tells; none of it being forced though. You find yourself gasping and gawking at him, when he tells you that he loves Morrissey and The Smiths. And laughing again when he makes his own reenactment of the face you just made.

You've never warmed up to somebody this easily, even with Tony, the beginning was full of stuttering and awkward silences at times because you were scared that if you spoke, you'd end up ruining everything. Your smile falters as you think that over; it really is the huge kicker in all of this. The fact that you thought you'd be the one to ruin whatever kinda relationship you had with Tony, and maybe to some extent it was you who caused it, but in reality, the blame was on him.

John nudges you silently, and you know that he'd been watching you for the time it took you to make your discovery. And maybe you'll never stop loving or needing Tony, but what if you were wrong this morning? What if there's a 1/100 chance that you can actually get over what happened and just move on? What if all of that was possible?

And you know that the only thing stopping you from that is yourself.

The fact that you want to need somebody to that extent where it almost isn't normal anymore. You want to have some plausible excuse to blame everything on. Or...something like that.

"Jesse? You okay?" Finally shake away the glazed look that covers your eyes, to stare back at him.

"...no, but I will be." So maybe he was only asking for that exact moment, but the answer to that is slightly negative and unhappy. You don't think he would like that one word answer anyway.

He nods and opens his mouth to say something, but the sound of the door bell frantically ringing over and over again, interrupts him. Raise your hands to cover your ears while taking the steps two by two, hoping with everything inside of you that you won't fall and make a total fool out of yourself.

You manage to make it to the door without having any new bruises or cuts to tell a story of clumsiness. Don't bother looking through the door peeping hole, because the only people who would be ringing the bell like this, would only be one of your siblings. Sigh and unlock the door, pulling it open, expecting to see Craig standing there, telling you he forgot something.

But the person standing in front of you is not Craig or any of your brothers and sisters and your heart is jumping up your throat and you're feeling claustrophobic.

Tony, in all his broken glory, is standing in front of you, eyes going to meet yours hesitantly. Your legs are shaking beneath you and you're finding it impossible to support your own body mass. Sink to the floor in one smooth movement and continue to stare at him from glazed, blue eyes. In one second, he's at your shoulder, hands wrapping around the small of your back, rubbing gentle circles.

"It's okay Jess, calm down..." The quiet tone of voice he's using to try to sooth you, does not serve its purpose. Your heartbeat is still racing and breathing is still a difficulty.

All you want to do is cling onto him and never let him leave you, because forget what you were earlier thinking, there is no way you can go on without him. Everything seems familiar still, Tony comforting you, and you holding onto him like your whole life depends on never letting him go. At the moment, it does.

He pulls you forward towards him, letting you fall completely into his arms, and his lips rub against your ear as he talks.

"I'm sorry Jess, don't hate me...please." And you know that you'll give him whatever he wants and in this moment you'll forgive him for all the hurt and misery he put you through. Don't reply yet because you're too busy, consuming everything that he is. The way that he smells differently from everything you've ever known; the way he's able to put his arms around you and make you feel like you're finally safe. It's just...everything that you need to memorize now and embed it into your memory forever.

He pulls away from you, ignoring the whimpers that fall out of your mouth. "I need you to know that I...I love you. You need to know that. You...gotta." His voice pleads pathetically, growing softer until it's gone all together, and his lips are moving silently. Tears are flooding his eyes, and he doesn't bother to wipe them away.

Your hand goes to his cheek, to trace where the tears fall, his lips kiss against your fingertips when you brush over them. It's then that you know that if he wanted, your heart would be back into his grasp, ready for him to break all over again. Or just smash into smaller pieces, because it still hasn't mended at all yet.

Nod at his words because right now, you both need to believe in them. Your hands are still clinging onto him as he moves you into another hug again. Meld into him, feel his heart beat erratically against your own, and you need this. You're not ready for the words that once again shatter your broken world.

"This is good-bye, know that I love you forever." He's pulling away again and all you can do is allow him because you'll let him do anything to you. He presses his lips to your warm forehead, as if to kiss away the pain that is racking at your heart right now.

"B-But I...need you," you whisper out harshly, digging your short nails into his shirt.

He shakes his head at you, in a sad manner almost. "You don't need me Jesse...I'll destroy you."

Don't bother to tell him that he already did and throw yourself pathetically towards him, forcing him to hold you in place. And you don't know how long it is before he finally pulls away, untangling himself from your clingy grip to kiss you softly for the last time. You don't move from your spot as he closes the door behind him, and you know that this is the end.

You don't notice the movement behind you as John crawls towards you, out of where ever he was hiding when Tony arrived. He hugs you silently to him and you still don't bother moving because right now you're completely and utterly lost and broken. You spend the night in John's arms, shaking and clinging to him, because he reminded you of something you lost.

Mon, 19 Jul 2004 16:03:41 GMT

To anyone on here that reads "It's Only You, Beautiful" I'd like to say that I'm very sorry for how long this chapter is taking but I am trying. This story seems to keep on getting harder and harder to write because I have the shortest attention span ever. But I promise that it will be up by before the end of the week. I'm still sorry. Love you all though. <33333

Sun, 04 Jul 2004 11:43:19 GMT

Title: It's Only You, Beautiful (Chapter 14)
Pairing: Tony/Jesse, John/Jesse
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Not real
Dedication: boysandbruises because just yes. Don'tmakeJessedoanythingstupidormean.
Notes: This will probably be the last update between now and two weeks from now. Sooo, you should all review and make me happy. Other chapters on my LJ by the way.

Ch. 14 –

When you wake up the next morning, you’re wondering if it was all a dream. Well, not a dream, but a nightmare; something untrue and unreal, just one huge gimmick that your brain’s played on you.

But your body still tingles with a slight ache and Craig is looking over you gingerly, as if you’re going to break at any moment. What he doesn’t get is that you’re already broken.

“Jess, get up...school…” he tries, his voice soft and low. He’s using his special voice on you, the one he usually uses to get Cody to listen.

Shake your head at him, pulling the blankets back up to your chest again. There’s no way you’re going back there…he might be there. Shudder and bring your hands around your torso to give yourself a makeshift hug almost. Close your eyes again, snugly; wishing you could fall back into the dark abyss that sleep provided.

It’s impossible though and you can imagine Tony’s past words and actions…they’re all replaying in your head again like some kind of horrible tape and you can’t find the stop button.

Hear Craig sigh and come to sit next to you, his hand going out to awkwardly pat you.

“You gotta try to let this pass Jesse…that’s the only way.”

Shake your head once more and try to glare at him, but end up feeling the pinpricks of tears starting to eat away at you.

Cough and mumble out, your voice still scratchy to your ears. “What if…I don’t want to get over this?”

Craig opens his mouth and for a second he looks like a dying fish, trying to gulp in a breath of life. You should know, you feel like that fish all the time, except that nobody’s there to put you back into the water. Nobody to give you the assurance that there is a reason for you to exist. You’re just taking up perfectly good living space, maybe you needed Tony and Matt to do this to you; to remind you.

Speak quickly, the words coming out harshly, not allowing Craig to interrupt you yet. “What if I can’t get over this?”

There’s a long pause and you know that Craig is debating the fact. There’s already a large portion of him that knows that you’re right and that scares him. You know it does. Feel his hands go to grasp at your worn shirt, the material rubbing together beneath his fingertips.

“You…you have to Jess. I can’t, no…you have to.” His words are in whispers, pleading and tired.

Stare at him, wishing you could comfort him in some way, but you can’t even help yourself.

“I can’t…I don’t know how.”

It’s the truth and you hope that Craig can accept that, even though you know he can’t. And you don’t know what to do with yourself anymore…everybody around you will end up destroying themselves because of you. You’re like a contagious disease sent down to poison and kill everybody you love.

“That doesn’t matter, you have to try. Please?”

Perfect evidence of what you just said. His voice is trembling, you can hear it begin to break and you wish that Craig could just forget about you. If he did…it would make his life so much easier, if only he could realize that. Tony did and it probably was the best thing that ever happened to him.

“Not today…”

You feel like adding ‘not ever’ to that statement, but that would just upset Craig even more than he already is. The aim of this is to get him to understand and not make him feel even worse than he already does.

He forces you into a sitting position, not listening to you when you tell him to stop. This alone reminds you of Tony…and how he wouldn’t stop. Bite into the fleshy, swollen part of your lip, facing Craig.

“You have to promise me Jesse that if I leave you here alone…you won’t do anything…stupid.”

His own blue eyes are chocking with desperation now and his grip on your hand is tightening, clinging onto you, begging you. And you’ll promise him that you won’t because it’ll make him feel better. You want to tell him to just let go of you and ask him if he’s going to make you promise everyday. He can’t always be there to protect you and you both know that.

Close your eyes, unwilling to see the way that tears are starting to gather in his eyes. You want to believe they’re only crocodile tears, you truly do. Maybe if they were, it wouldn’t be so hard and the guilty side of you would stop acting up. It’s not like you’ve even done anything yet so why should you feel like you’re betraying him.

“I won’t Craig,” you tell him, unable to make your words come out as strong as you want them to be. They were meant to reassure him, but the desperation is still split across his face so you’re pretty sure that it didn’t work.

“No…you have to promise me.”

He needs it you realize. He needs to hear that you won’t do something stupid to yourself…that you won’t kill yourself. It’s blunt and harsh to think about, but that’s the reality of it. Your older, star-of-everything, brother is asking…no begging you to not kill yourself. And maybe Tony wasn’t Amy all over again, but you’re turning out to become your father, at the rate you’re going.

Look Craig right in the eye, knowing that you can’t go back from this anymore, because it leaves no room for any doubt that you could use in your defense.

“I promise.”

He nods and tries to shrug it off like he knew you weren’t going to do anything to yourself, but the worry is still evident in his features. Your mother’s screeching from downstairs for the both of you to get out of the house and go to school. He nods to you slightly before putting his backpack over one shoulder. When he’s at the door he turns back, smiling softly at you.

“Don’t worry kid, I got you covered.”

Force your face into a poor rendition of a smile, trying to get your lips to curve, but it seems so unnatural to you. As soon as he’s out the door, you allow it to meld away, your hands going up to grip through your hair. You know that Craig will only let you get away with not going to school for maybe the first few days and after that, he’ll simply force you.

He doesn’t understand though, you can’t go there. You can’t see Tony or Matt ever again, if you do, you’ll collapse on the spot from some kind of medical condition that you’re sure you’ve contracted somehow. No…you can’t go back, not ever. It doesn’t matter that you’ll probably never finish your education now, because you know without going to school again that’s kind of impossible.

And you never knew that angels could ever cause so much anguish and pain. In your eyes, he might always be one; you wish you could change that kind of perception you have of him. You’ve told yourself over and over again; countless times that he’s the opposite, the devil perhaps. But no matter how many times you repeat it…your mind can’t grasp it and you’re still left thinking of him, wondering about if he really meant everything.

Find yourself unable to lock these memories away and you need out, before you spontaneously combust from all of the pressure you feel you’ve put yourself under. Stumble up, head still seeing Tony in flashes, and enter the bathroom in the hallway, looking for anything. You need an escape right now and everybody says that the only way to do that is by…hurting yourself.

You don’t know about any of this, don’t know which way you’re supposed to press the razor down, but if it will help you, you’re willing to try. Tremble as you rest the blade against your skin, not moving it yet, your stomach’s a mess and you feel stupid for doing this. Remember about the promise you made to Craig, causing you to hesitate further, but you’re not going to go that far. You know you aren’t…or maybe you’re just trying to convince yourself that you won’t.

“It’s not my fault,” you whisper beneath your breath, resting the blade once again against your pale skin. “I…I just need to get out, away. I don’t want these thoughts anymore.”

You’re aware of the fact that you’re talking to yourself, but it’s minor only. It doesn’t faze you anymore like it would have done just a few days ago. Put pressure down slowly on the blade, feeling it finally cut into your wrist, resist from indulging with the scream of pain that calls to you.

Take in a shuddering breath and think that maybe it’s not an instant recovery kind of thing. Get ready to start moving the blade when the phone starts to ring, startling you and causing goose bumps to cover your arms. Drop the razor into the sink and stumble out of the bathroom towards the phone.

There’s a sickening hope that bubbles in your chest that maybe it’s Tony. Slap yourself mentally for even thinking about that and shakily pick up the phone. Bite down on your lip again before speaking.

“H-Hello?” Maybe it’s Tony and he’s going to apologize. But no, that’s not what you want, you can’t want that. Convince yourself it isn’t while waiting for the person on the other line to reply.

“Hey, Jesse right? It’s John, we met the other day.” Feel your heart beat slow down, not sure if that’s the response you want from your body. From the way he’s acting, it’s like nothing happened. Like he didn’t see you in all your naked glory, after you had been violated and raped. Like he didn’t hear the way you couldn’t breathe because all of your crying was choking you up.

“Yeah.” You wish that you didn’t sound so curt and short, because he didn’t do anything except help you. It can’t be helped though, since talking isn’t one of your biggest hobbies…even with him.

“Craig said you weren’t coming to school today so I figured I’d call you up, see if you remembered me at all. I have a free period anyway, time to waste, you know how it goes.”

He sounds almost nervous, like he gave himself a pep talk before talking to you. You don’t know why he would do that though, it’s not like he needs to; you’re only Jesse. Oh but he’s a friend of Craig’s, so he probably thinks you’re just like Craig and he needs to live up to some sort of standards. Except, you don’t have standards.

“Oh…I know you. You’re in my English class. Mrs. Lewinski usually reads out some of your work.” You want to add that you think he’s really talented and that he should become some sort of writer, but you don’t. Feel your heartbeat continue to slow down and find yourself breathing more easily. He’s like a depressant you realize and right now…you need that.

“I really wish she wouldn’t read my stuff…or anybody else’s cause like she ends up giving the people in the first row a spit bath.”

You find yourself smirking a little at his comment because it is true and you’re remembering how you used to see him bringing a towel to English classes. It’s all starting to make sense and you would be making ‘awwing’ sounds, except he’s still on the other line.

“So that’s why you keep on trying to get her to move you huh?” Seating arrangements…Tony sits next to you in Chemistry. It feels like your heart just lurched into your esophagus; that can’t be healthy.

“That’s why the whole front row is trying to move.” There’s a light touch to his tone and you’re pretty sure that if you were looking at him right now, his lips would be curving at the sides just like they were doing last night.

“I guess you should’ve just sat next to me in the beginning of the year huh? I sit in the back…” You’re not really sure why you just said that. Maybe John can take your seat, it’s not like you’re really planning on going back anyway.

He laughs and you find yourself smiling softly without knowing why, and thinking maybe Craig was right.

“Yeah maybe, I’ll sit beside you next year then. I don’t think Mrs. L will even let us move anymore…”

You hear the sound of a bell going off in the background, no doubt the school’s. Wait for him to tell you he has to go since class will be starting for him soon. And sure enough…

“Shit, I gotta go. We should hang out later though.” His voice is speeding up and that could either be because of two reasons. One, he’s rushing to get to class or two, he’s nervous. It’s probably the first one though, there’s no reason for him to be nervous.

You nod, realize you’re on the phone, feel stupid again and then reply smoothly. “Yeah, you better go…someone might take your seat in English.”

“Is that supposed to be a bad thing? Ugh, I’ll…call you later, bye.” With that he hangs up and slowly you replace the phone back on its hook. Look down at your wrist, watching the blood pool at the slight indentation at the once perfect skin. Sigh heavily, thinking once more of the one single cause of all this.

When you were talking to John it seemed like you were able to forget about it, or just stick it away in the back of your mind, along with other memories that weren’t important enough to think about.

And maybe you should call John again.

Tue, 29 Jun 2004 09:06:39 GMT

Title: It's Only You, Beautiful (Chapter 13)
Pairing: Tony/Jesse
Disclaimer: Not real
Rating: PG
Dedication: boysandbruises cause I miss her to death. So she can come back and look at this, knowing that she was missed. Hahha
Summary: HS fic
Notes: You should all review because it came so fast. Yes. Please? All other chapters are on my LJ. Thanks.

Ch. 13 –

It’s wrong, you know it is. But you can’t stop, can’t make yourself stop thinking about the one thing you know you shouldn’t be thinking of. You seem him still, even when your eyes are not closed, he’s embedded himself into you and you can’t erase that. You try to shake him away, tossing your head this way and that way in Craig’s lap, but that only makes you dizzier and more images of him pop up.

Craig’s hand is still resting on your head, his eyes look like worried slits, and he’s still cooing softy under his breath. The noise, everything, reminds you of him and you’re remembering exactly how that noise sounded coming out from Tony’s mouth. Or the way he whispered he loved you and it hurts. It hurts to know that it wasn’t enough for him to just fuck you over physically, but he had to do it emotionally too.

You shiver again and allow yourself to cry, it’s not like your body would listen to you if you tried to stop anyway. Craig gave up with wiping your tears away and now he just stares at you, eyes digging into yours, begging you to stop. But you can’t, at least now you’re not going into mini convulsions anymore though.

The car skids to a stop in front of your house, but you don’t make any effort to move, unable to make yourself face the pain that you know will attack you. It feels better to not move, to pretend that nothing is there to hurt you. When you move, you know you’ll feel the pain, and from it you’ll understand once again that this is all true, all happening.

And right now you don’t want that. Not now, not ever.

You’re thinking that Craig doesn’t understand your logic in this because he forces your head out of his lap, ignoring the whimpers that you let out. The other door is opening and John is helping Craig to drag you out. With every jerk they make, the pain amplifies, and soon you’re a shuddering, trembling mess again. Not that you ever stopped being one, but now it’s worse.

They half carry, half drag, your body forward until you’re at the doorstep, clinging at Craig, not even trying to be quiet even though he is putting his finger to his mouth in a silent attempt to hush you. He transfers all your weight to John, who pulls you to him, his arms grasping at your hips, trying his best to make you comfortable. Your head is in his neck and you’re breathing him in, wetting his shirt from your tears, and just sucking in the air that lingers around him.

This position reminds you, once again, of Tony and how you were doing the exactly same thing as you are, just a few hours ago. Well, longer than that, but it seems like it was a few hours ago. Everything about Tony seems recent, raw and bleeding, like an open wound.

No doctor can sew this one up though. Maybe it’s too big and deep to close and you’re cursing yourself for letting Tony mean this much to you. You hate that you opened yourself up to somebody else and allowed yourself to be vulnerable. You allowed yourself to be open to pain, and hurt he did. The words that Matt said to you are echoing in your mind, bouncing off the walls of your head, like a never ending tennis game.

Craig is finally able to get the front door to open and he ushers John forward, who in return, tightens his hands around you and brings you forward towards Craig. Between the two of them, they manage to lug you into the bathroom in the hallway.

Once you’re in there, you’re lifted onto the sink counter, wincing slightly when your sore ass comes in contact with the cool metal. Pull the blanket closer around your shoulders and look at John and Craig through wary eyes. You don’t understand why they brought you here first and not straight to your bedroom.

You watch as they exchange a look and a nod between each other before Craig coughs and clears his throat.

“Jess…come on, we need to get you cleaned up.”

At this part, John reaches forward, trying to get the blanket off of you. Instead of letting go, you hold on tighter, and bite on your lower lip.

“N-no,” you whisper out, your words ghosting out from your bruised lips.

Craig sighs and steps forward to hug you to him. You don’t see his other hand go up to signal John to once again come closer and tear the blanket away from you. Whimper out as cold air brushes through you and there’s nothing else protecting your naked body from the eyes of Craig and…John.

Bury your head into Craig’s shoulder, unable to look up, knowing that they can see every bruise and blood stain on your body now. Well, the parts that Craig isn’t covering from hugging you that is.

Look up slightly to stare at John, through eyes that have seemed to be made of glass. He’s shifting his weight from one foot to another, hangs pulling on his grey hoodie nervously.

“I’m going…to get some Advil for you. Uhh…yeah. I’ll be right back,” he says, voice trembling out a bit from the pressure of this situation.

Craig turns from you to nod at him and when John’s left the room, he finally pulls himself away to go wet a cloth in water.

He presses it to your thighs and you shudder, thinking about the last thing that touched them. The fingers that pressed imprints into them as he slammed into you repeatedly. You can still see his face.

Craig’s silent as he wipes away the blood from them, he’s not talking, but he doesn’t need to. You see the anguish and disgust written all over his face, like an open diary that was not meant to be seen.

Swallow down the lump that’s in your throat and grab for him, forcing his eyes to go up and meet yours.

“I’m…sorry Craig,” you whimper out, starting to cry again and you can’t remember when you ever stopped.

He hushes to you; his jaw strained and cheeks a soft red.

“Shh Jess. It’s okay, I promise.”

His voice is cracking and he looks away again, before continuing to wipe your body clean from the blood. You know from the way that he’s furiously swiping that he thinks that by cleaning you up, he’ll be getting rid of whatever hurt you. It won’t though, these wounds are not skin deep, and they run further down. Nothing will get rid of them. Nothing can.

John appears back at the door holding in his hands a bottle of Advil and a cup of water. You’re not sure how he was able to locate them, but you’re glad. Reach out for them, muttering thanks, too embarrassed to say what you really feel.

You hear a small gasp, a quick intake of air. Turn your head to look behind him, meeting the eyes of…Cody. Cody in his small pajama bottoms and too big shirt. Before anybody can do anything, he’s slipped inside and beside Craig who looks up at him before going back to his task.

Cody’s thumb goes to his mouth, a habit you’ve all been trying to get him to break. He doesn’t understand what kind of germs lay on his small hands…but that’s normal. You try to jerk away and cover yourself from Cody’s innocent eyes which stare you down, confused. He doesn’t know why you’re being like this…just that something’s wrong.

“Jesse? Why you bleeding?” he asks, his other hand going up to trace the blood running down.

Your voice finally comes out, sounding strangled even to your own ears.

“Cody…out. Now, Craig,” you gesture with your own hands to Cody, trying your best to not break out into tears once again. You can’t stand it, can’t stand the fact that your younger brother is staring at you like that. You need out.

Craig rolls his eyes at you before softly shoving Cody out of the room and telling John in hushed tones to keep him busy. With the whole Cody fiasco, you had forgotten that John was even there.

When he’s finally done with cleaning you up, Craig helps you to pull on a clean shirt. Once again he calls John in to help you with your boxers. You’re not sure that it’s normal for your body temperature to rise this high and for your face to flush a color this deep. But then again, you aren’t normal so it shouldn’t really matter.

You’re embarrassed beyond belief and you can’t do anything to change it. Lean on Craig as you hobble up the stairs to the room where he lays you down on the mattress. You remember again how you thought Tony would be able to solve everything for you, who would have guessed that he’d be the one causing the biggest heart break of your life. It’s all bitter, you decide and it leaves a horrible taste in your mouth.

John comes up, Cody hanging on to his hand. But as soon as he sees you, Cody lets go and flings himself down next to you. Hold your little brother tight and breathe in his baby scent. You’re not sure why he’s still awake, but that doesn’t matter now.

You can feel John’s eyes on you still but it doesn’t make you feel uncomfortable. That’s odd, usually you can’t stand strangers, but with him it’s different. A good different.

“Hey, I’m going to take off now. My mom’s probably worrying, you know.”

You don’t know but you still nod to him.

He smiles gently at you, his lips curving at the sides.

“I hope you feel better later…give me a call or something.”

Again you nod, hands hugging Cody tighter and stealing his body warmth from him. From the contented sighs he gives out, you’re sure he doesn’t mind too much.

You watch as Craig walks John out of the door, still talking to him in soft words that you can’t hear.

Cody tugs himself out of your tight grasp to stare at you, his dark brown eyes are lighted up and his pink tongue goes up to lick his lips. You tense yourself, knowing that he’s going to ask you something.

“Jesse, are you okay?”

You shake your head at him, knowing that right now you can’t lie about how you’re feeling. Even if it’ll make Cody feel better.

“If I share my car with you, will you be okay?”

Pull him closer again and hug him against you. You don’t bother with a reply because you’re pretty sure he won’t like it.

And you wish it were that simple, that if Cody shared his toy car with you, everything would be okay again. But things don’t work like that in life. So you’re stuck here now, with a bleeding heart, and a head full of thoughts you don’t want.

Mon, 28 Jun 2004 11:06:14 GMT

Title: It's Only You, Beautiful (Chapter 12)
Pairing: Tony/Jesse
Disclaimer: Not true
Rating: PG
Summary: HS fic
Dedication: elleheartsyou because she, in a way, inspired me to actually write this chapter. Everybody, go thank her.
Notes: I think that you should all leave me a review if you read because this came in one day. I never do that. Hahah. Ok. I love you even if you don't. <3 Other chapters are on my LJ by the way.

Ch. 12 –

You’ve resumed the position of a curled up ball, as much as you can, since you can’t get your body to move without it protesting and ending up making you cry out from the pain. Everything is killing you, the way you can’t seem to stop the tears from falling because as much as you try to deny it…Tony did mean something to you. Or the way your body is burning from the physical abuse it was put in.

It wasn’t enough for them to rape you and leave you dying on the bed, no; they had to make you a public embarrassment as well. The door’s wide open and you can hear the raucous snickers through it as well as the hushed gasps as people take in your violated form. Right now, it doesn’t mean anything to you because you’re in too much anguish and pain, but later on, it’ll all hit you and make everything a million times worse.

You blink your eyes open once or twice but immediately shut them again when you see that there are a few daring ones who ventured inside and next to you. One of them prods you gently in the shoulder, but you ignore it, until he’s done it six times, forcing you to open your eyes and stare at him through wet eyes.

He’s tall and good looking; you think you’ve seen him around the school, maybe even in one of your classes. Dark brown hair curls around his ears and his eyes are hidden behind a type of framed glasses that would definitely classify as emo.

“Hey…are you okay kid?”

You want to snort and laugh in his face, and give him a dumb reply to match his dumb question. Maybe something like the reply Tony gave to you when you asked him the other day.

But you’re not naturally rude, especially to nice strangers who seem to just want to help. Hey, that’s what you thought Tony was doing…you’re always wrong though. Instead you shake your head softy and go back to closing your eyes tightly.

You hear him sigh softly, air rushing smoothly from pursed lips, and you feel a soft material covering you up to your shoulders as he covers your naked body with a blanket.

“You’re Craig’s little brother right?”

At this question, you nod slightly, opening your eyes to blink at him, silently pleading with him to make things better. At the moment the only way he could do that, is by getting Craig for you. Ever since you were very young, you had always turned to him to make things better again. Things don’t change much you guess.

There’s the sound of him telling one of his friend’s to close the door and even with the blanket, you’re still trembling and shaking uncontrollably. He notices it and reaches a hand forward to rub at your shoulder gently.

“Shh…I’m going to get him for you. Sit tight…” He tells you, talking softly and comfortingly.

For a reason unknown even to yourself, you find yourself reaching for him and shaking your head, tears jumping once more to your eyes. It’s not that you don’t want Craig, you don’t want this…stranger to leave just yet. There’s something about him that you take comfort in. Not a lot, but enough that you don’t want him to go.

His face crinkles up into a frown and his eyebrows rise to question you silently.

You try your best to ease your voice out of your mouth, but it’s hard and all you can get is an odd croak. Your eyes stay on his, teeth biting into your lips, while you try desperately to get him to understand.

“Do you want Craig to come?” He asks, not knowing why you can’t talk but understanding that you can’t. It occurs to you that you might come off as mute, but that doesn’t matter right now.

You nod softly, still holding onto his hand, and still trying to fight the tears that continue to fall.

His eyes drift to your hand clenching onto his shirt’s sleeve.

“Should I wait for you and send someone to find him?” He’s asking but at the same time, motioning at one of his friends to go down.

You don’t bother with a response other than closing your eyes, feeling the moisture leak out once more and you don’t think you’ll ever be better. He doesn’t say anything to you but him, just being there, provides you with some consolation, even if you’re not sure why.

The door bangs open, causing your eyelids to flutter open and for you to jolt against the bed with fright, thinking with mad panic that Matt was back again. You want to hit yourself for still only blaming Matt and not Tony, who was quite obviously the main accomplice in the whole scheme. It’s as if you’re still giving him a chance to be the good guy, your angel, when that is not the case, obviously.

Your eyes come to rest on Craig’s agape mouth after you’re done wincing from the mild panic attack you put yourself through.

Open your own mouth again to try to speak, finally coming up with a weak, “Craig…” before choking up and being unable to continue. In an eye’s blink he’s by your side, grasping at your shoulders, making you cry out from the pain that digs through your body from the sudden movement.

His eyes are on yours before traveling down your body, taking in the blood stained sheets that are also covered with Tony’s bodily fluid. They come back to meet up with yours, which are half closed, brimming over with mixed feelings of anger and vengeance.

They’ve started to water up a bit and he’s licking at his lips, a nervous habit he picked up.

“Jess…we gotta get out here. Come on,” he tells you, his voice sounds the weakest you’ve ever heard it. Tired and weak and you want to kill yourself for causing him to feel this way.

He reaches forward to try to pull you up, but you struggle in protest, already feeling the pain start to rack against your limbs. You shake your head, eyes meeting his in desperation, knowing that you can’t walk. And it’ll be almost impossible to get up.

He watches you and you see his eyes start to cloud with hopelessness as he turns to your helpful stranger.

“John, we have to get him up and out. He can’t stay here…” Despite what he looks like, Craig’s voice sounds determinedly set.

You watch John nod and crawl onto the bed behind you.

“I’ll lift him from behind so that he doesn’t put too much pressure on anything while getting up. Go in front and get ready to hold onto him from the front.”

Your mind is in a whirl still and the words escape you because now you’re thinking about all the places you went with Tony. You’re thinking about the way the sun rays caught the blonde in his hair and the way his eyes sparkled at you when the both of you were laughing about something. It’s not like you want to think about it because it’s causing your chest to contract and hurt. But you can’t stop…it’s like a Tony overload.

You do, however, moan out in pain when John hooks his hands under your arms forcing you up and into Craig’s open ones that end up clinging you to him. Again, John’s there to place one of your arms around his shoulder and pull the blanket tighter across your torso. With your weight distributed between the both of them, they pull you forward across the room, ignoring your pathetic pleas to put you down because every time they move, another jolt of pain shoots up your spine.

Your mental pain by far out powers the physical as you’re still crying out hopelessly and images of Tony are still going through your head and you’ve never felt so worthless in your entire life.

Close your eyes, unwilling to see the curious glances and stares that people you don’t even know are giving you as you’re pulled down the stairs and out of the front door. The door that you once thought meant freedom, it isn’t though. There is no way out of this hell of a life, you’re stuck for good. You realize that now and again you whimper out.

You don’t recognize the blue car that you’re pushed into, but the pain that once again attacks you is starting to become all too familiar and right now, familiarity is not a favorite of yours. Craig sits in the back with you, holding your head in his lap, stroking your hair back and whispering words of comfort to you. He’s trying so hard and you wish that he would be able to have his desired effect on you, which is to make you feel better, but he doesn’t.

Everything all still hurts too much and you want it all to go away. It won’t though…your life has never gone in the direction you wanted it to go. All it does is go through strange shortcuts and crossroads where you choose the wrong turn, and ultimately making it even worse than before.

---

Notes: I couldn't resist not putting John there. I had to, hope you understand.

Sun, 27 Jun 2004 10:29:02 GMT

Title: It's Only You, Beautiful (Chapter 11)
Pairing: Tony/Jesse
Rated: NC-17
Disclaimer: Not real, Don't own.
Summary: HS fic
Dedication: anomalyx because I want to. Or because she wants it. Your choice.
Notes: Yes, I'm not dead. Still here. Hey, if you review you can be on my love list. You knooow you wanna be on it. *winks* Other chapters are on my LJ, word count, yo.

Ch. 11 –

You shiver as you walk down the road towards Lara’s house and wrap your arms around yourself trying to keep in what little body heat you do have. It’s a short walk away and even from a distance, you can already hear the noise pollution that seems to invade the night air. Sigh to yourself softly and stop in your tracks to wonder once again why you’re doing this, but you can still hear Tony’s voice in your head and that’s enough to drive you forward once again.

There are people already sprawled out across the moist grass, either drunk or drugged out…for most, it’s both options. You wrinkle your nose, feeling more out of place than you even thought was possible. All you want right now is Tony…to be there to comfort you and hold your hand and tell you that you do belong. But you can’t find him and there are people starting to squint in your direction, trying to place a name to your face.

They won’t though. Or at least…not the correct one.

Enter the house and try your best to ignore the glances and full out stares people are giving you. Shiver unintentionally and wring your hands together because this is too uncomfortable and awkward. Walk forward trying to get your body to listen to you and just calm down but it refuses to and you know that you’re still trembling.

Sit on the large white sofa next to a couple who are currently dry humping each other while spilling punch over themselves and the couch which, after tonight, will never be white again. Your back is rigid and you can feel your body temperature rise from nervous sweat and embarrassment. Helplessly look around the room once more for Tony but see nothing except more drunk kids making out. Sigh and get up, knowing that you can’t take it anymore and all you want to do is go home to roll up into a ball and try to sleep the night away.

You’re crossing and avoiding everybody who comes into your path, looking past their blood shot, glazed eyes to the door which means one word to you, freedom. There’s a sense of relief that clings to you when your hand finally reaches the brass knob but it’s shattered when you feel arms going around your torso to drag you back.

You know that shouting will do no good since everybody’s too drunk to care at this point so that only leaves you with the option of struggling to get out of your kidnapper’s grasp. But the more you thrash, the tighter his grip gets until he’s hugging you to his chest, his lips lowering down to your ear to suck at your earlobe before reaching back and hissing, “The party just started Lacey, don’t you want to see your little…boyfriend?”

It’s only then that you realize who is taking you captive, in a way. The voice is painstakingly familiar and this is the same person that you talked with in the first hours of the morning. Matthew Lovato, Tony’s cousin, the one that freaked when he saw you and Tony kissing and touching. It’s all coming back to you, in rushed pieces, like a warning of some sort.

Try to turn and face him but the grip is still too tight and you know it’s not possible.

“M-Matt?” You stutter out the word, as if it was stuck to your tongue and you were shaking to get it off.

He lowers his head again this time going to bite painfully into your neck and it’s a good thing that your mouth was open. The sound of inhaled air isn’t so harsh on your ears this way.

“Took you long enough Lacey.”

With that his hold on you loosens so you’re able to face him now but he’s still grasping at your hands, cutting off circulation. He smirks; a look that you can’t place goes over him. You know the look, there’s a name for it, but at the moment it’s only at the tip of your tongue and you’re not sure what it means.

“Let’s go find your lover, shall we?” It comes out of his lips as a statement, clear with no room for argument. You can see that Matt’s always been a kid that got whatever he wanted and fighting…would be a waste of energy. Plus, that is what you want isn’t it? To find your Tony. With this thought in mind, you allow him to drag you to the next room.

And there, hunched over a table with a drink at his elbow, is your Tony. You feel your eyes light up when you see him and again, relief digs itself into your pores, holding on just like Matt’s doing to you. Or what he used to be doing because now he pushes you roughly towards Tony who looks up at you when you tap him. His eyes meet yours but immediately blink away to Matt’s, and just like the last time, you miss the look Matt passes onto him.

You see the aftereffects it has on Tony though because he shivers and seems to freeze up for a good five seconds before turning to you and pulling you into the chair next to him.

He leans into kiss you as soon as you’re seated, his tongue pushing in ruthlessly into your mouth, like he doesn’t care about anything except his task at hand. From the bitter taste of alcohol that fills your mouth and nose you can tell he’s already been drinking heavily. This doesn’t surprise you though but you do push him away, frowning deeply.

His frown back at you matches and overpowers your own. You think he might be an expert at it.

“What the fuck is up man?” he slurs at you, eyebrows forming a tent of anger it seems.

“Tony, I didn’t come here just for you to choke me with your drunken tongue…cut it out,” you sputter back, not happy with the new arrangement of greeting that he seems to have taken on.

He sighs and reaches forward to kiss your cheek lightly. “Sorry Jess, it’s just been a really long night. I missed you.”

You can tell from his tone that he thinks that what he said is supposed to make up for everything. Shrug and tell him that you missed him too because at the moment, it’s what he needs to hear. That makes him smile softly and he passes you a drink of some amber substance. You want to tell him that you don’t drink but you don’t, instead take the drink and try your best to swallow it down and ignore the feeling of burning that inhabits your throat now.

You don’t know how long you sit there, with him telling you useless pieces of information that don’t interest you at all…things like how much the new BMW convertible costs and how long it took him to gulp down a pitcher of beer. This could just be a consequence of the large amounts of alcohol he’s drank so you don’t worry too much about his mental stability just yet.

You think that he might be trying to get you drunk as well because he keeps on sliding you more drinks and refilling your cups, even when you’re not half way done. But then…he has no reason to do that so you dismiss the thought because thinking hurts too much when your mind is in a whirl of vivid colors.

Your eyes are glazing over and you can’t make yourself stay still since you keep on rocking back and forth. He watches you, biting down on his lip as if concerned…try to make a mental note in your head to ask him why he would be, much later on though. Try to reach forward for him to grasp his attention and tell him that you’re going to go home now but the words come out in slurred forms, not making any sense to you.

He nods though and you’re thinking he understands. If you had seen behind you, you would have seen that the nod was not intended for you, but for his cousin, who’s standing at the base of the staircase. Watch him through lidded eyes as he gets up, extending a hand to you which you gratefully take, using it to lift yourself up. You’re wondering now how it’s even possible for him to hold your huge mass up but he does without falling down so you quit thinking about it since…thinking hurts.

He leads you to the staircase and you feel his body tremble but that could just be from the weight of you so you don’t think twice about it. There’s another arm that goes around your hips to help carry you, look up and squint at the person, unable to recognize him. You’ll have to thank him later on though but it will be a little hard to do…seeing how you won’t know what he looks like. Except that his hair is darker than Tony’s.

His face confuses you so you go back to staring at Tony’s wondering suddenly why they seem to be liquefying almost. He raises a hand to rub your head, making a cooing noise under his breath that is familiar to your ears but the last time he used it, it was meant to comfort you. You’re unsure of why you need to be comforted right now.

In the next second though you feel his hand stop and his body ceases movement as well, you didn’t see the death glare that his companion fixed him with, maybe if you did, you wouldn’t be so confused still. They pull you into an empty room and onto a bed which you allow yourself to stretch out on, feeling dreamy almost. There’s the sound of a door clicking locked and shuffling around you but it doesn’t weird you out.

It’s only when cold metal snaps onto your wrists that you finally open your eyes to look up at Tony who seems to be trapping you to the bedpost.

“T-Toonyy? What’s…goinon?” You ask, words jumping together and you can’t make sense of them but it doesn’t matter if you can, only if he can.

He twitches slightly and makes hushing noises to you while going to your other hand and doing the same to it. The other companion that helped you up is on the bed near you and in his hand lies something that glints when the pale moonlight shines on it. It entrances you and your head rocks to its movements.

Your unidentified companion sidles up to you, nipping on the tip of your ear with his sharp teeth while whispering, “Tonight’s when all the fun begins, Lacey. The truth’s coming out tonight dear Lacey.”

Your eyes widen a bit to meet his and you realize for the second time that night who you’re face to face with. Again, Matthew Lovato. Jerk your head away agitatedly from him and shudder with fear as he lines the knife up with your chest, cutting away the cloth from your skin.

“Stoppeit…Tony!”

You cry out when Matt’s hands go to work on your belt, opening the clasp and yanking your jeans down, along with your boxers. With this done, he smirks at your naked body, making yourself force your alcohol induced body to huddle into a make-shift human ball.
You watch from fearful eyes as Matt grabs your Tony around the neck and kisses him hard. Watch as his hands go up to entangle themselves in Tony’s bleach blonde hair and slowly work their way down to pull open Tony’s khaki’s.

He pulls away from Tony suddenly to face you; his eyes look like dangerous slits right about now.

“Do you see Lacey? He doesn’t…can’t love you.”

You shake your head feeling wounded and still not understanding what is going on.

At your reaction, Matt growls out almost, and climbs onto the bed, pulling his face right up to yours.

“Face it Lacey, you were just his boy toy. Somebody he wanted to fuck with only. Oh, but I’m spoiling it…Tony can tell you himself.”

You watch as Matt lunges for Tony, forcing him onto the bed and into his lap, his lips attaching with his ear.

“Tell him Tony…tell him how you’ve only been using him. Tell him why you became friends with him…fucking tell him Tony.”

He pushes Tony towards you, glaring and grinding down on his teeth. The sound is horrible to hear and you wished that he would just stop. You stare at Tony now though, begging and pleading with him to tell you that it’s not true and that Matt’s just messed up. You need him to tell you that because right now your whole world his falling in on you.

Tony’s biting his lip and avoiding your eyes, looking at the blue bed sheet that you’re lying on.

“It’s…t-true Jess. I, everything that he said…it’s true.” His lower lip pouts out at you and he’s whimpering under his breath, just loud enough for you and Matt to hear still.

There’s the sickening sound of skin against skin as Matt punches his cheek.

“You’re such a fucking pussy, you know that? Shut the hell up and just fuck him already.”

It’s as if the tape’s on fast forward and Tony’s reaching in the drawer for something and you’re fighting against the handcuffs that dig into your skin, cutting and leaving ugly marks.

Matt’s grabbing at Tony’s shoulder pulling him back harshly and forcefully.

“What are you looking for? I told you, no fucking lube.”

And for the first time that night, you finally understand what is going on. He’s going to fuck you and Matt’s going to watch. And it was always about this only, Tony never cared about you, it was always about the sex. You struggle pitifully once more, but knowing the inevitable was going to happen, whether you were ready for it or not. And you’re not…but that doesn’t matter to Matt or Tony.

The sound of Tony’s voice drags you away from your reel of loud thoughts.

“But…but Matt, he’s a virgin still…” His voice is just like it was over the phone, rushed, weak, soft, and everything that you realize is the real Tony.

This earns him another fast slap to his pretty face, but right now you couldn’t care less…why should you? Tears are falling from your overflowing eyes and you can’t stop them either, just like how you can’t stop the whimper that builds up inside of you.

“I don’t fucking care. You told me this was about the sex only. Are you taking that back? Do you actually like this fucking kid?”

Tony’s answer is stuttered back. “N-no, of course not.”

You want to close your eyes and fall asleep into nothingness but your body refuses to listen to you today and they remain open allowing you to watch as Matt reaches down, starting to jerk Tony off roughly.

“So…fuck him already then.”

The sound of Tony’s whimpering meets your ears and you stay still, the feeling of helplessness sinking into your bones and consuming you. You feel Tony’s hands on you suddenly, picking up your legs and forcing your knees to your chest. The sound of, “Please…no,” spills out of your mouth and you’re shaking your head fiercely.

You watch Tony bite down on his lower lip, lining himself up with your tight opening and slowly pushing in making shhh noises at you. You feel your chest and voice box emit a scream as you try to pull away from the foreign object that’s impaling itself inside of you.

Tony’s hands go forward to your hips, his fingernails digging marks into the skin there, trying his best to steady you. He’s still pushing in; moans falling out of his mouth and you’re still screaming the house down, thrashing insanely. The tears and sweat is getting in your eyes and it stings.
When he’s finally gotten in as far as he could possibly go, he reaches forward with his head to press his lips against your temple and says the impossible.

“I love you.” It’s hushed so that you can only hear, and he pulls back just as quickly as he came.

Again, he slams his hips to cradle into yours, grunting, and you’re still not sure how it’s humanely possible to even be in as much pain as you are in now. Your limbs feel like they’re on fire and your throat is protesting weakly from all the screaming you’ve been doing.

All you want is it to end because you really can’t take this. It’s emotional and physical pain all rolled up into one final recipe that is destroying you painfully. With each time he brings his hips to meet yours he matches it with another lying “I love you.”

You wish he would quit it because it’s just making you more anguished and worked up for the simple fact that it’s not true. He does not love you; if he did he wouldn’t be doing this to you right now. It hurts to know that he would lie right to your face when he’s just fucking you over, literally. Craig once told you that during sex, all the truth would work its way in, but not in your case you guess.

He’s groaning and moaning as he pushes into you a final time, you know it’s over because there’s the feeling of his bodily fluids covering you. Exhale and squirm once more, trying your best to breathe again but your body has decided that crying is more important than that. Your sobs rack your frame harshly and you’re trembling uncontrollably.

Tony pulls out just to be grabbed by Matt, who was watching the whole time and jerking himself off. You watch as they kiss and grope at each other. And then as Matt crawls back up to you releasing your hands from the handcuffs. The dull sound of skin hitting the pillows seems to echo in your mind and you don’t think you’ll ever forget it.

He kisses you forcibly, his tongue making its way pass your lips, hands on your cheeks, stroking them. It’s over just as fast as it began, he pulls back to stare at you, his eyes almost pitiful.

“Savor that Lacey. It’ll be the last you’ll ever taste of him.”

You’re tears and sweat are making it hard to see, not because you’re drunk anymore, you’ve never felt this sober in your whole life, if that’s even possible. But you still manage to see Tony and Matt, as blackish figures, unlocking the door and going through.

Just before Matt leaves though, he turns his head to face you once more.
“I think Lacey…maybe you will follow in your father’s footsteps. Hey, it might even work out for the best.”

He smirks at you before disappearing. And the really terrible part of this whole thing…or wonderful part, you can’t decide, is that right now, you’re actually agreeing with him.

Fri, 18 Jun 2004 08:09:42 GMT

Hi. You should all join our_disaster because it's the summer time. And it's not like you have anything better to do. <33

Fri, 18 Jun 2004 05:24:33 GMT

Story: It's Only You, Beautiful (Chapter 10) Double digits, yo.
Rating: PG
Pairing: Tony/Jesse
Summary: HS fic
Disclaimer: It's fakkkeee. Yep.
Dedication: boysandbruises Because she's the John to my Jesse. *hugs* <33
Notes: Yeah hi. I'm back. No, i'm not dead. The other chapters are on my LJ seeing how there is a word limit. Sorry.

Ch. 10 –

On the surface, it’s perfect, everything you ever wished for maybe. There’s a slight wind that blows into your face as you and Tony swerve around a curve in the road. You take in a deep breath of that air, which is probably thick from carbon monoxide and other dangerous chemicals. It only has the illusion of being “fresh air” because people want to think that. Just like you want to think that this is all perfect.

It really should be you know. You’re in a sleek, Mercedes convertible car, sitting next to a hot boy with a yearlong perfection and eyes that could melt away glaciers if he really wanted to. You can hear the lead singer from The Smith’s voice from the built in CD player of the car, lulling you into a soft daze. You can feel Tony’s fingers begin to intertwine with yours, forming a tight clasp. You can hear the sound of puckered lips to soft skin as Tony’s thin lips press against your body whenever he gets a chance to.

It’s all beautiful and serene but you can’t accept it. And no, it’s not because you’re some really sensitive emo kid that thinks that life is only meant to be about suicide, unhappiness, and a lifetime supply of Bright Eyes’ CD’s. It goes deeper than that, to the look in Tony’s eyes that you saw. Whenever you close your own eyes you can see it and you shiver slightly, not enough for Tony to feel it or else he would have offered you his black hoodie that lies swung over the back seat. And maybe it’s not the actual glint in his eye that gets to you but what that glint really meant. The fact that he knew that you weren’t ready but still proceeded trying to go through with the whole act makes you feel used…dirty.

And now you’re thinking about how ugly the world really is. Just one big ugly ball of blue and brown, which people try to beautify with splashes of color even though they just end up making it worse. Sometimes though, it disguises itself well, the ugliness is able to blend in…that’s why there are nature freaks. Those people who go on and on about how the human race is destroying the environment with apartments, shopping complexes, etc. but these are also the people that go home to their two room apartments, buy commercial goods, and other things that do promote the “killing” of the earth’s beauty.

So maybe this wasn’t the best analogy for the earth because you were the one who was just telling Tony how beautiful the lake was and just how much it belonged in a fairytale. You could just be another one of these nature freaks so you really shouldn’t be talking. It occurs to you that while this analogy didn’t exactly quite fit with describing the earth, it does however fit Tony. Except the being a ball of ugliness part. Because that is obviously not true.

Tony Lovato is from a glance perfection and everything else that comes with it. The charming boyish look, smooth tones…he is the whole nine yards, as good as it gets some may argue. You used to be one of those people…who worshipped his every move and this was only because you only ever saw him from a glance. Not literally speaking of course because you have been close enough to him to have memorized his body, every mole that lined him.

You knew all of these things but you only realize now that none of these things really matter. It doesn’t matter if you know how many strands of bleached blonde hair he has on his head. It doesn’t matter if you know the exact spot of every scar and blemish on his body. They just don’t because they’re all on the surface. And the surface is not what he’s all about.

He’s like a painting that only looks like a masterpiece from a distance you realize. But as soon as you go closer, as soon as your eyes are able to narrow in on all the small details, it clearly shows that Tony is not God. If he were a painting, some of the colors would be overlapping harshly and the lines would be wobbly when they were supposed to be straight.

This weekend did allow you to get to know Tony better. You got to see the vulnerable side of him, the side that reminds you of yourself and it’s that side that makes you want to help him. If he’ll let you that is. His lips go to graze your cheek once again and there’s a feeling that’s so tangible but you can’t put your finger on it. It’s at the tip of your tongue but you’re just missing it.

You still feel dirty and you’re still wondering if Tony is only using you for sex because at the moment it really seems like it is. Trying to forget about something is the hardest thing to do and it never works. It’s like a simple rule of life, the more you want to forget, the more you will remember. Every detail sticks out in your head vividly, the way the grass still had fragments of morning dew, the way his shoes were placed…

But most of all, it’s the desperation in Tony’s eyes when he looked at you that you remember most. It could be that he’s just a sex-crazed teenager as many people would agree with because it just seems more believable. And again, people will always agree with something they feel comfortable with. But….you’re not so sure that was all there was to it; the look was much too intense.

Tony’s eyes are on you, you can feel them as if they’re burning air holes into you. You don’t look at him though, too scared that your eyes will give away too much of what you’re feeling. That Tony will be able to read you like a book…he’s done it before, he can probably do it again. So you continue to stare out the window and he continues to stare you down.

It stays somewhat like this until he finally pulls up to your broken down house with the rotting paint. It’s late and shadows are playing along the walls, almost like a game of tag. He pulls right up to your driveway and stops the engine so that the one sound that fills up the silence is your own breathing. Blink twice and finally allow your gaze to settle on him.

“Thanks Tone…I had a really good time,” you murmur softly, wondering if he can really make out your words.

But he nods so you assume he can. He leans towards you slowly, his hand reaching forward and at first you think he’s going for the seatbelt clasp, but it ends up on your thigh, rubbing smooth circles that extend inward. His mouth hovers in the space near yours, so close that you are able to smell the peppermint in his breath, and it’s still coming nearer by the second. You don’t move though, just watch as Tony works his way to you, places his soft lips on yours. You feel his tongue nudging gently against your teeth, but you don’t relent instead you pull away gently.

His forehead is resting against yours and he’s trying to look like it didn’t bother him, but his eyes give him away. Your head goes forward, meaning to give him a kiss on the cheek to reassure him, but he turns so you end up pressing your lips to the side of his nose.

Pull away for the last time, release yourself from the seatbelt, and grab your bag from the back. Stand outside the car, your hands making a waving motion, curling slightly, as Tony reverses out of the driveway. When he’s gone, you sigh loudly again, turning around to start walking to your house.

As soon as you turn, you feel your heart jump and skip a few beats. Craig is standing in front of the door, his eyes shocked, jaw clenched stubbornly. Your mind is racing with ideas and thoughts so you shake your head trying to clear them. Continue walking up the driveway, your eyes on your brother as he glares back at you.

When you’re two feet away from him, he reaches forward and grabs your shoulders, shaking you furiously.

“Jesse, what the hell was that?” he asks, voice trembling with what you guess is anger.

You fight to get out of his grip while he fights to keep you in it. Craig was always the better one…at everything so you quit trying and hang your head.

“Answer me.” You can hear from his low tone that he’s getting control over himself again.

Sigh again, smooth your hair back with your left hand, and look up once more. “It was nothing Craig. Now let me—“

“You were kissing a guy! Don’t give me this bullshit that it was nothing,” he hisses at you, eyes narrowing in and you feel like a bug under a microscope.

“This isn’t any of your business Craig. So just butt out of it…” You trail off as his hand goes forward quickly, seeming like he’s going to punch you, but instead his fist curls around your shirt collar pulling you even closer.

“You’re my little brother Jesse. I’m related to you, what you do does involve me, whether you like it or not.”

You suddenly understand it, like a light bulb just flickered on. “Oh, so I guess it’s not good for your reputation to have a gay younger brother huh? I should’ve guessed.”

His next response shows that it was the wrong light bulb that just turned on.

Craig does punch you this time, lightly on the jaw, eyes glaring dangerously. He’s breathing heavily and it’s not from his weak punch at you.

“Shut the hell up. How dense do you think I am kid? That this is all over my reputation…news flash, it already got destroyed with Dad. Do you even know this Lovato kid?”

You stutter when you talk. “Y-yes.”

“Oh so you know that he got arrested with his cousin last spring for almost killing a guy with a baseball bat?”

Your response is soft and you hope he didn’t hear it. “No.”

“That the kid he beat up is now in the hospital, trying to recover from several broken ribs, both legs broken, and multiple minor injuries?”

You shake your head, feeling dumber by the moment.

“That his doctors don’t even know if he’ll be able to walk again because it was so bad?”

Again, shake your head.

“That the only reason he and his cousin are in our school is because none of the private schools would actually take them in due to violent records?”

This time you don’t give a response, just stare up at him.

He sighs when he sees the look that casts itself upon your face. “These Lovato kids mean trouble Jess. They’re covered in it, you shouldn’t…can’t hang out with them, especially not date one.”

“But…Craig, Tony wouldn’t hurt me. Really…” You’re aware of how pathetically weak you sound. But you can’t change that now.

Craig sighs exasperatedly, shaking his head twice. “Stop being so naïve Jesse…”

The phone has started to ring in the house, so you push forward inside, running to get it, which in turn forces your talk with Craig to come to an end…for now at least.

Your brother reaches the phone before you, leaving you to watch him as he picks up the phone. You’re pleading softly to God that it is not Tony. Please…

“Hello?” Go up closer to Craig so that you’re right beside him. Still pray fervently.

“Who are you?” Your mind freezes, crying out almost.

“Oh, wait a second, I’ll call him…” It is Tony. You can hear from the coldness and apathy from Craig’s voice that it is.

Take the phone from him, biting down on your lip and you want to wish Craig away right now.

“Hey Tone…”

“Jesse. Hey man. I know we just saw each other and whatever. But take this as I just can’t get enough of you…” His voice is too high. He’s talking too fast. Something’s going on but you can’t figure it out…not with Craig burning holes into your head anyway.

You laugh nervously into the phone.

“Yeah so, Lara’s having this totally rad party at her house. Her parent’s are gone for the weekend and I was hoping you’d come.” His voice sounds so desperately hopeful now and you just can’t say no to that.

“Uh…sure Tone. I’ll see you there. Bye.” You hang up fast, wincing at the sound it makes from being slammed down so hard.

You try your best to pretend that nothing happened or is going to happen. Grab your jacket from the bed with shaky fingers, ignoring the look of unbelief which illuminates Craig’s eyes. He’s not saying anything yet and you’re glad because the sooner you get out of the room, the better.

Just when your hand reaches the door knob you hear him call out your name and forcing you to stop.

“What? You’re still going? Even after what I just told you?”

You sigh and face him. “Craig, I like Tony. He likes me too. I promise you that nothing bad will happen.”

Again you twist the knob, still trembling and hoping with everything inside of you that you are right.

“Yeah whatever. Where are you going anyway?” he asks, you can hear from his tone that he is doubtful still. But Craig always knew when to stop.

“That girl…Lara’s house…she’s holding some kinda party. Tony invited me…” You trail off, aware of how stupid this is all sounding because Craig knows how much you hate these things.

“Jess, I’m going to ask you one more time to not go. After that, it’s not my problem.”

He’s serious, everything about him tells you that. The way he’s standing, looking at you, just everything. But you can’t let Tony down.

You pause, the door’s halfway open now. You nod once, it was such a small movement but you know he caught it.

And you leave.

Fri, 04 Jun 2004 13:36:42 GMT

Title: It's Only You, Beautiful (Chapter 9)
Pairing: Tony/Jesse
Rating: R
Summary: HS fic
Author's notes: See, this one didn't take that long. R&R, please?

Ch. 9 –

You two stay like that for a while longer, simply grasping at each other in desperation. His hands are at your back softly pulling the worn material into small balls, his head at the crook of your neck, just like yours was before in his, and you’re just holding him. Finally, his grip on you loosens and he manages to get enough control over himself again to pull away so that you’re both staring at each other.

A half smile forms on his thin lips as he questions you hesitantly, “Are you sure it’s going to be okay?” And though his tone is calm and cool, his eyes are telling a whole different story. One that is full of past demons and a sick anxiety.

You make up for his lack-luster smile with one of your own; all teeth and pink gums.

“Yeah I’m sure.”

There’s a warm feeling that settles in your stomach when Tony returns your smile, albeit not as scary because for a second there you probably looked like the Energizer bunny on crack.

He steps forward once again towards you and prods you in the stomach once more. “You ready to get rid of that…pouch you got there?” His eyes are dancing devilishly as he jabs at the lake’s direction with his index finger.

Snort at his reference to your stomach, a slight blush already highlighting your cheeks. You had been hoping he wouldn’t notice the extra pudginess that lay hidden in your cheeks and tummy for as long as you could remember.

“You’re just jealous that I’m not all skin and bones,” you tell him with a smirk, while kicking off your sneakers and socks. He takes your cue and starts to undress as well, starting with his shirt first. Your eyes divert somewhat politely from his body so that you’re not full out staring.

When you’ve finally stripped to your boxers, you turn to look at him, taking in his image and everything that he is. You’re not surprised to see his pale skin tinged with bruises and scars. Laughter builds up inside of you silently as you remember how you once thought he was an angel…your angel to be exact.

Tony’s paler than ever under the glaring sun and his eyes go to yours, scared of your judgment of him for the first time since you’ve known him. Swallow down heavy air, try hard not to blink, and say lightly, “Let’s go.”

The relief in him is evident in all his movements, the way his body releases its rigid structure and the calmness that sinks into him. His head bobs up and down twice before grabbing your arm that had been hanging by your side and dragging you down to the lake’s edge.

Here it’s a fight to see who will go in first. You remember the last time you had one of these…fights, it was with Craig. You had lost obviously, but Craig had been bigger and stronger, this time you had that advantage. With a half squeal Tony falls in, the water cascading around him from the impact. You laugh at the spot where you expect him to emerge but…no Tony.

“Tony?” You find yourself screaming his name out several times, panic filling you and causing you to jump into the water, ready to pull out a dead body. It’s cold and you understand the high squeal that Tony let out but that’s the last thing on your mind right now because there is no dead body, which could be better than nothing.

You stay underwater for as long as you can, forcing your eyes to open wide as to not miss a thing. Again you arise, your bones feel chilled and you’re ready to cry. Suddenly something surrounds you, cold arms and you breathe, for what seems the first time during the “event”, in relief.

Turn around in those arms to meet Tony’s grinning eyes and the smile that lights up his features.

“You’re an ass,” you tell him, frowning deeply and still trying to calm down your speeding heartbeat.

He pulls you closer until your forehead meets his and you know he can clearly feel the way you’re shaking right now, still recovering from your panic attack.

His lips are mere centimeters away now and you can feel his warm breath hitting your own lips as he whispers, “And you’re gullible, sweetly gullible though.”

You reach forward with your mouth until you have successfully covered his mouth with yours with force hard enough to bruise. You feel his tongue fighting through your pursed lips and into your mouth to swipe forward into every nook and groove there. Your hands somehow find their way to his bleached hair, tugging gently and you jut your mouth impossibly closer to his finding that you can’t get enough.

It’s rushed but passionate and ardent, so much that it’s causing a stiffening feeling in your wet boxers. You feel his hand sliding down your body, following each slight curve making you shiver unintentionally and hold your breath. With every movement, his hand seems to caress your body almost lovingly and you find yourself wondering if you really deserve any of this.

When his hand finally reaches your hard-on, you find all thoughts disappearing because it doesn’t matter whether you deserve it or not. It’s happening and you better take full advantage of it while it lasts. Bite down on his bottom lip gently, finding it hard to urge your lungs to breathe so that you won’t suddenly past out or anything.

You can feel him start to move up and down your shaft, causing you to cry out and tighten your grip on his hair. He continues the action and pulls himself forward to kiss you but you can’t do anything at this point except leave your mouth wide open, drawing in shaky breaths.

He’s starting to move faster now, and you’re gasping into his mouth, holding onto him as if you’d die if you let go. His other hand is at your ass, squeezing the pliable flesh there and at this new sensation you moan out once more before releasing heavily.

You shake lightly, feeling as if you’re being electrocuted from the vibrations that are shooting down your body now.

Tony’s mouth leaves yours to go to your ear and murmur, “Feel better?”

Unable to respond you nod weakly, feeling almost pathetic for being so put out by a simple hand job. Pulling himself away from your warm body, Tony gets out of the lake to stare down at you his eyebrows arching. You know he means for you to get out as well but it seems physically impossible to you. Your legs feel like your Aunt Jill’s strawberry jello, as well as your arms. Meet his eyes with a hopeless glance and hear his snicker echo in your ears.

“Don’t wanna come up? Ok, stay there, I’m going inside,” he tells you, beginning to turn away. You know that he already knows your little dilemma but he’s just being annoying, you’ve grown to understand him a bit.

“Tooooneeey,” you whine out, raising your hand out of the water and towards him.

Despite his initial response he does turn back to wrap his fingers around your own and pull you out, even though he does continue with the odd chuckle here and there.

“I’m going to get something eat,” he announces to you.

You reach forward and squeeze his hand, filling the rigid bone structure resting just beneath the skin.

“Good, you need some fat to wrap around your bones anyway,” you tell him jokingly.

“How are chips and cookies?”

“Mm, good enough.”

“Sure beats the steak I had planned.” The tone he takes is remorseful sounding. Like he’s mourning the death of some relative…which in this case are the dead cows who now gave up their lives for nothing.

Glance up at him once more and smile, “It’s better this way. I’m vegetarian.”

Tony stops in mid step and turns to you, “No you’re not. I saw you eating chicken just the other day.”

Frown at him and say, “Way to ruin my cheer-you-up scheme. Asshole.”

His head tilts back a bit as he laughs vigorously and when he looks at you, his eyes sparkle again and you’re grateful.

“I’ll go get the food. You just…wait out here.”

You watch as he disappears back into the cabin and you’re beginning to wonder if he’s a klutz when you hear the noises of him banging into stuff in there, accompanied by a heartfelt shit or fuck.

When he returns, there’s a hoard of junk food piled in his hands.

“So what will it be Mr. Lacey, Barbeque or Vinegar?” he asks you with a waiter’s politeness and a touch of gusto in his voice.

Burst out laughing and fall to the grassy land till you reach a sitting position. Tony follows your example and then drops the food in front of you both.

“Vinegar always,” you tell him, nodding as you tear open the bag of potato chips.

You can hardly finish swallowing the handful of chips in your mouth before he’s on you again like a puppy dog, licking at your lips and telling you that you taste salty. The chips lay forgotten as he climbs onto you, sliding in between your legs as the both of you battle each other…with your tongues. You can feel Tony’s hardness start to press against your naked stomach, causing you to moan throatily.

Moving back from you, which brings out noises of disappointment from you, Tony starts to drag your boxers down your legs. Your heart feels like it’s in your throat now and you’re breathing in shallowly, trying your best to calm yourself down for the seemingly inevitable.

You’re not sure how Tony was able to produce the condom and bottle of lube so fast and you’re thinking that maybe he just carries them around with him. You watch from wide eyes as he covers himself up with the slimy substance. It feels to you like you’re watching the whole thing through somebody else’s eyes, like seeing some cheap porno movie, except that you’ve never watched gay erotica, and the more obvious…this is your movie that means.

Tony finishes his task before placing all attention on you which means picking up your feet to rest them on his shoulders and going forward to kiss you once more softly. Maybe he’s able to see the fear in your eyes and the realization that comes to you. You’re not ready for this, it’s all happening too soon you know. You can feel him at your opening, his eyes are open still, it feels like he’s pleading silently with you for something you’re not ready for. And suddenly it strikes you.

He knows you’re not ready too.

You can feel him beginning to push in, whispering coos softly under his breath, probably meaning to sooth you. It hurts, even with the lube, and it doesn’t…just doesn’t feel right.

“S-stop,” you whimper out, tears starting to pool around in your eyes and you know that from now on, you’d be a hypocrite to make fun of girls who cried after, during, or before sex.

You’re almost scared that Tony will just continue with the whole act and it frightens you more than anything. But he doesn’t, almost immediately he pulls out with a slight popping noise and draws you into his arms, rocking you back and forth like you’re a baby again. He’s mumbling apologies one after another into your ear while you let him, almost frozen without knowing why.

Tue, 01 Jun 2004 11:45:00 GMT

Title: It's Only You, Beautiful (Chapter 8)
Pairing: Tony/Jesse
Summary: HS fic
Disclaimer: Don't own
Notes: Yeah, sorry it took so long. I'm not sure when the next chapter will be up because exams are coming but I'll try my best. R&R to make me happy.
Ch. 8-

Looking at the little, digital numbers that are positioned right above the radio, you see that it’s been exactly 13 minutes since you got into the car and started driving away. You haven’t said a single word to Tony yet and one glance at him tells you that he is still unwilling to talk to you. You allow your head to hit the backrest, still staring hard at Tony who is looking straight at the road in front and it could be because he’s just a responsible driver…but something in you tells you that this is not the case.

You bite down on your lower lip thoughtfully, gnawing on the fleshy skin until you can feel the little indents of your teeth. Sigh softly and twist your head to face Tony knowing that if you don’t know what’s happening…or what’s happened you’re gonna drive your self insane.

“T-Tony…are you okay?” you ask timidly while wincing without even noticing as he turns his face to you and you’re able to see the black eye and cut cheek.

He glances at you, as if patronizing you, like you’re the one who needs to be sent to the nearest mental hospital and there’s nothing wrong with him. This could be the case you realize but then maybe both of you need to be submitted into one.

“Just fucking peachy Jesse,” he mutters bitterly, his lips purse shut again signaling for the conversation to end but you know that if you allow it to, you might never have the courage to bring it up again.

“You aren’t.” Way to go for going for the obvious, your brain tells you and you wish it would just shut up because it really isn’t helping the major headache that has decided to show up. You think that you might have a multiple personality disorder but it’s not really the right time for debating something like that.

“I will be, don’t worry,” Tony tells you, his tone softening now as he removes one of his hands from the steering wheel to place on yours. You hadn’t realized until now that you had been shaking almost uncontrollably but he had.

Silence resumes once again but it is neither as heavy nor oppressing as before and you’re grateful for that. His hand is gently rubbing small circles into your skin and you find the irony in the situation. He’s comforting you when it should really be the other way around. Curse yourself once again for being the weak baby that you are.

“Is this your car?” you ask him after a few minutes because the question has been nagging at the back of your head since you saw it.

“No.” His answer is short and finished and you know he doesn’t want to go on but it matters to you so you push on.

“Then whose is it? You didn’t steal it did you? B-because if you did– ” Your voice rises in panic, hitting a pitch you would have thought impossible until today.

“I didn’t steal it! It’s my father’s so just calm the fuck down,” he says to you leaning over and rolling is blood shot eyes.

You frown accusingly before inquiring, “So he let you take it?”

Another signature eye roll with a shake of his head this time. “No but he’s out of town so it’s cool. It’s not like he’s going to find out, unless you tell him but that’s out of the question.” His eyes turn to yours and there’s something in them that makes you mumble a weak ‘right.’

He knows that you’re still doubtful though and lets out his breath exasperatedly. “Look, you’re worrying over nothing. I’ve drove this car like a million times and never been stopped. What’s gonna be so different about today?”

Your eyes are pleading silently for him to do something which you’re not quite sure of. You just want him to fix whatever problem he might be in or gotten you into. It doesn’t occur to you that you might have been the one that got him into the trouble in the first place.

“There’s a first time for everything Tone,” you say softly, barely catching your own words.

He hears you too. “Yeah well, this won’t be it,” he answers shortly, his voice curt and choppy.

Your teeth go back to your lip and he remains stiff, not giving you a second glance. You can’t help thinking harshly how this was supposed to be your fantasy weekend with glowing sunlight, chirping birds, and a prince of your own. Well the sun and birds were there alright, you had a headache and the makings of sunburn to prove for it but your prince was…missing in action. Or not missing physically but just somewhere else in mind.

You kick off your worn out sneakers and unbuckle yourself so that you’re able to sit up on the leather seat. Once comfortable and balanced on the balls of your heels you reach over to Tony and nuzzle his neck lightly, forcing him to look over at you. Lay down a few light kisses near his earlobe and upper neck before mumbling, “Don’t be mad…please?” Another smooth kiss and hear your words of ‘I’m sorry’ muffled against his pale skin.

He turns his head and rests his swollen lips against your own, biting gently on your lower lip and making indents of his own. You hesitantly press your tongue forward until it’s in his mouth and you’re exploring new territory. It occurs to you then mildly that he is driving a car and that making out right now may not be the best thing to do so you pull away to sit back into your own seat ignoring the look of confusion layered on his face.

His hand resumes its former position on top of yours and a feeling of comfort fills you. Your head falls to the crook just between his shoulder and neck and your eyelids are closing on you fast even though you’re battling to keep them up.

You guess that Tony saw your losing battle with your body because he places a small kiss on the top of your head before telling you to go to sleep since it will be a long ride.

Look up at him from your position and your grip on his hand tightens, squeezing hard. You don’t want to fall asleep, don’t want to leave him ever.

“Of all people to fall in love with…I have to choose the clingy one,” he says jokingly, his eyes finally sparkling lightly. Another kiss is pressed to your temple.
“It’s okay, I’m not going anywhere.” He speaks softly, his voice like some sweet lullaby your mother used to sing to you when your father was still there and you still were considered normal.

With this in mind and an unspoken question that you can’t seem to grasp you allow your eye lids to droop down and go into a calm sleep. And it is nice because you dream through flashes of pictures of your family, Tony, pretty scenery, and everything else that doesn’t upset you at the moment.

You’re not sure how long you’ve been sleeping when you feel the contact of soft flesh on your mouth. Stir softy and lean into the kiss trying to deepen it in any way possible. It’s Tony’s turn to pull away and whisper in your ear, “We’re here.”

Your only response is a slight nod of your head as you turn away, not bothering to open your eyes. Too tired or sleepy to care where here really means. You can’t make the connection and the thought of falling asleep again is much more inviting than thinking about where you are.

The sound of a car door opening and the clunk of metal on metal as it falls back into place fills your ears. There is a brief silence before without any warning Tony leaps over the car door and into your unsuspecting lap. Your first reaction is to simply kill him because one, he just ended a good dream and two, he knocked the wind out of you.

But you’re not sure what you would do with the body so you give in for glaring at him and the smirk that fills his face.

“Ah good, that worked. And here I was afraid that I would be spending my entire weekend with a sleeping corpse.”

He pokes your side making you groan and clumsily reach forward to do the same but he catches your hand and pulls you forward out of your seat. You’re not entirely sure how he manages to also open the car door at what seems to be the same time.

While being jolted forward by Tony you can’t help yourself but whine, “Did you really have to do that? Wasn’t there a nicer way to wake me up?” Lips already forming a half pout and your eyes drooping down.

“Well I did try to by kissing you but you, sleeping beauty, didn’t wake up. So I jumped on you, it worked like a charm,” he tells you, his tone light and happier than you’ve heard it the whole day.

You take a look around you and your mouth takes on an ‘O’ shape that it seems to permanently keep. With a place like this, how could you stay anything but happy? If you thought his pool was amazing, it was nothing compared to the wide, vast stretch of water ahead of you. The water gives the appearance of having some sort of magical power to it as the sun shines down from above. The irrational part of you wants to jump head first in and see what you can find below the surface. But you don’t think your stiff limbs would like that very much so you settle for nudging Tony in the ribs and pointing.

“It’s nice huh?” he replies while trying to open the cabin door. The lock clicks open and he enters leaving you to stay standing in admiration at the scenery in front of you. You can hear Tony bumping into things inside so you stick your head in and are amazed to see that the room is still dark.

“Tony? You okay?” you call out into the darkness, your voice painted with mild concern.

“Yeah, just knocked around some furniture.”

“Oh, why don’t you just turn on the lights?” you ask, still staying outside where there’s sunlight to allow you to see.

“I tried, but it doesn’t seem to work so I’m checking the other lights. Maybe the bulb blew.”

“Yeah, maybe. Why’s it so dark inside Tone?” You feel like some 6 year old with no brain.

“The windows are tinted so that the sunlight stays out.”

You can hear even more noise of things falling and being shoved around.

“Shit. I think the electricity’s out.” You hear his groan of annoyance coming closer so you can see him now. His eyes seem to leak with disappointment and self-anger which you’re not sure why so you grab his hand before he walks out of the door.

“It’s okay Tony. Really, we’ll just use flashlights or stay outside.” You tell him, trying to convince him that it really isn’t as horrible as he makes it out to be. You can’t even recall the amount of times that you had faced blackouts because your family wasn’t able to pay the electricity bill. For a while, you had learned how to do everything in the dark, it wasn’t that bad, a hindrance more than anything.

“It isn’t…it totally screws everything up. How are we supposed to cook or do anything?” he questions you, his mouth twitching in irritation at the whole situation.

Pull onto him again so that he’s right next to you. “We don’t cook then. Eat stuff that requires no heating, boiling, or baking.”

Tony’s face looks so dejected right now that it really is breaking your heart so you hug him tight. You can feel his breathing rough and harsh at first but after a while it’s apparent that he’s calming down.

“I’m sorry Jess. This was supposed to be perfect…” he tells you, voice breaking a little.

You tighten your grip on him, wishing that as long as he was in your arms everything would be okay…but reality really doesn’t work like that. You don’t know what happened to him in the last few hours but whatever did seems to have caused him to crack and all you want to do is take it back, to make it not hurt anymore.

Sigh gently and press your lips to the side of his head and mumble, “It still can be.”

The other chapters are on my LJ, I would post them but I think there's some sorta word limit so uh sorry.

Wed, 26 May 2004 14:27:34 GMT

So yeah. Comment to be added. And you'll be added.

Thu, 20 May 2004 08:27:42 GMT

Hah. So guys, I just realized that I didn't even post the whole chapter. Must have not copied and pasted properly. So here...
Title: It's Only You, Beautiful (Chapter 7, part ii)
Pairing: Tony/Jesse
Disclaimer: Not true
Summary: HS fic
Notes: I'm really surprised that I didn't get any 'WTF is up with that ending? You suck.' reviews. You guys are really too rad. The other chapters are on my journal...it's just a click. R&R please.

Ch. 7

You never thought it would be so hard to convince yourself that you were just imagining things. It’s hard to forget your new realization and it’s hard to not let it affect you. You know that it’s going to be haunting you for the whole trip unless you ask Tony about it but you’re scared. Scared that if you do somehow muster up enough courage, you’ll be shot down and you’ll be stuck at home doing laundry, taking care of Cody, or other things along the same lines.

Let out the breath you had been holding shakily and shiver slightly. Your head is throbbing; it feels like somebody is scraping your brain against your skull. Lie back down and sink into the discolored mattress, your hands run through your grime infested hair getting tangled up in the thick, curly knots.

‘I need to go with the flow,’ you whisper to yourself, your lips barely moving, the words coming out in hushed forms. You repeat that several times but no longer out loud, Craig might think you’ve finally gone insane and then you would be sent away to Cuckoo Ville. And that would be…not so good.

You don’t bother trying to sleep anymore, it’s no use. You’re up for good, well until tomorrow night at least. Shrug the blankets off of your body and fall to the floor on your hands and knees. Pick yourself up from the ground, thinking about the amount of germs and dirt that you have just accumulated. The thought hits you funny and you’re left wondering why you even care, you’ve never cared about anything this superficial before. As long as your heart was still beating, everything else was minor and didn’t matter.

Shake your head and make your way to the closet to pull out clothing, hum a tune under your breath not sure where it came from. The shower is too cold; it doesn’t make you feel more alive or awake because you’re as awake as you can possibly be. Take your time dressing, it’s like 3AM only, there’s no use of hurrying, no use of changing this early either but yet you do because it’s something to keep your attention off the whole Tony affair.

Push open the bathroom door and shudder against the chilly air that brushes past you. Make your way back to your room to grab a brown duffel bag and stuff random articles of clothing inside, not really sure how much to bring so you pack away most of your wardrobe which isn’t a lot so it’s no big deal. You hear Craig rolling around on your now vacant spot and then the clearing of a throat.

“Why are you up so early?” he asks you, his voice bleary and deep from sleep or the lack of it.

“Couldn’t get comfortable,” you tell him, not bothering to turn around and look at him.

“So you get up and…pack? Makes a lot of sense Jess.” There’s the sound of a body hitting the bed and you know he’s going back to sleep.

“Didn’t have anything better to do. Night,” you mumble mostly to yourself and wait until the room is perfectly silent again except for the sound of Craig inhaling and exhaling air. Zip up the bag and go to sit at the edge of the mattress, not sure what you’re supposed to do with yourself now. You spot the pale green phone on the side table and have a ping-pong like argument with yourself in your mind. To call or not to call. You know how annoying a phone ringing is but…this is an emergency.

You’re dying…of boredom. In your state of mind it all makes sense to you and it seems like a good, legitimate reason but you have a feeling that Tony and household might beg to differ. Unplug the phone and cradle it in your arms to bring outside into the small hallway where you proceed to hook it up there.

Punch in the numbers slowly, pausing for a few seconds before hesitantly pressing down on the last digit, 7. The rings echo in your ear and the whole time you’re contemplating just hanging up, your courage draining quickly and surely. Just right before you’re about to put the phone back down, somebody picks up on the other line.

“Hello?” The voice is gruff and low and not Tony.

“H-hi. Can I please speak to Tony?” You hate the sound of your voice. Scared, mouse-like, no confidence, every quality that you wouldn’t want.

“What? At 4:47 in the morning? Are you some kind of insomniac freak?” His voice is everything you would want though. In one word, fearless.

“Sorry, I’ll call back later. I didn’t mean to wake you up or anything…” You trail off nervously just wanting to put the phone down and end this conversation with Mr…you don’t even know who he is.

“Ha. You don’t mean to wake people up when you’re calling in the middle of the night? Yeah sure. What was so urgent that it couldn’t wait until tomorrow anyway?” He seems to hold a lot of dark humor in his voice. There’s just something about him that you can’t place your finger on. It’s unnerving.

“Nah…it’s okay. I’ll just talk to Tony when I see him. T-thanks though.” Please you think to yourself, just let me hang up. You would promise to never call after 7 again if that’s what he wanted.

“It’s a Friday, you probably won’t see him till Monday since he’s going on his little trip for the weekend. Just saying…if it’s that important, you don’t want to wait a whole 48 hours.” He’s a persistent little bastard, but good at it, you’ll give him that. Probably make a good used car salesman.

“Oh, don’t worry. I’ll talk to Tony sooner than that. I’m going up with him,” you tell him proudly; a smile touches your lips at just thinking about it. There’s a pause.

“…Going with him? I must have tuned him out when he said that. Wait a sec…you’re Jesse aren’t you?”

He sounds almost friendly, too friendly maybe. But you don’t notice. You don’t hear the sugar coated words that spill from his mouth as he practically interrogates you with questions. You answer them truthfully, happy to get to a subject that you feel almost comfortable with…Tony. His words are still nice and warm as he says a cheerful good night to you and tells you that he’ll tell Tony you called.

After thanking him and saying your own good-bye’s you hang up. Halfway through your conversation it hit you that you were talking to Matt, his cousin. You knew Tony had a brother but he had told you that he was away at university so that couldn’t be him. And his dad would never talk to you in that manner so it only left Matt. That night/morning you also came to a conclusion that maybe Matt was a good guy.

You walk back into your room and re-plug the phone again, roll onto the mattress until you knock against Craig who gives a soft grunt. You nudge him again until he tells you to go away. Pout and bring your lower lip up feeling silly and knowing he can’t even see you.

But that doesn’t mean he can’t hear you.

“Craaaiiiiggy Weeegy,” you call out, whining his pet name given to him by your parents.

“Jess. Shut up.”

“Craig. Don’t be a party pooper. Get up, it’s late.”

“What? There’s no party here. It’s not late. Go to sleep.”

“But…I can’t. Come on Craiggy, please?” you beg him, pushing his shoulder lightly.

“No. I’m sleeping. Go bug Jamey or Rory,” he tells you and you can already hear him drifting back to sleepy land.

“Nooo. You can’t, just for a little while ok?” You shove him hard, forcing him to wake up again.

He gives you a weary look as he finally pulls himself up and rests his body weight against the wall behind him.

“What do you want?”

“Just to not be bored and alone. Will you miss me Craig?” you ask, batting your long eyelashes at him but stop when it starts to become tiresome.

He stares back at you, either not amused by your antics or still angry that you woke him up at 5:35 in the morning on a Saturday. Yeah, that could be it.

“Sure, as much as I’ll miss dead weight.”

You put your hand to your heart and whisper like a broken lover, “That hurt, right there…”

He smirks at you before replying, “Whatever you do, never become an actor. You’ll be the laughing stock of this family…worse than it is already.”

And so it goes on, the bantering and ridiculing. It’s friendly hearted and you can’t remember the last time you really talked to your brother for more than two minutes. It’s also time consuming, you love that too because it’s 6:55 when he yawns, making you yawn in response.

You both lie down again, hipbones touching lightly and just barely. Your eyelids are falling on you and you don’t think you’ve ever gone to bed so contented. Just about to drop off and your mind is whirling with distorted thoughts when…HONK. Both you and Craig jolt back up, half wondering if you both were imagining things but the sound came again. No doubt the sound of a car. And then the phone begins to ring.

Craig frowns before picking it up and you hear him say hello and sure while passing the phone to you, his eyebrows rise quizzically.

Take the phone from him and rest it to your ear.

“Hi?”

You hear a soft sniffling sound which startles and confuses you. “Jesse?”

“Tony?” Cue your massive heart attack here.

“Yeah, change in plans. We’re leaving now. I’m waiting outside, hurry.”
“Now? Oh…ok. Coming, wait there for a sec.” You pass the phone back to Craig, mentioning for him to put it back down.

You grab your bag from the floor and you’re half way out the door and saying rushed good-byes when you suddenly stop. Turn around and stick your head back to glance at your brother.

“Thanks,” you mumble, your cheeks being highlighted with a soft pink for a reason unknown to you. With that you leave, jumping down steps, and closing the front door as quietly as you can.

You find Tony sitting in the front seat of a black Mercedes convertible, wondering if it’s his and if he’s even allowed to drive it. You smile at him as you walk towards the car, still unable to really see him properly. At about ten steps from the car you stop, your hand raises to your mouth in true chick fashion. The face that stares back at you has blood stained, black eyes. Several bruises littering his cheek bones and neck.

Everything about him is so…changed. From a physical stand point to an emotional one. And the truly pathetic part is…you don’t think you still know the person beckoning for you.

Wed, 19 May 2004 14:58:14 GMT

Alright, I'm sorry. This chapter is not what I said it would be. But read it anyway.
Title: It's Only You, Beautiful (Chapter 7)
Pairing: Tony/Jesse
Disclaimer: not real
Summary: HS fic
Rating: PG
Notes: Reviewwwww

Ch. 1

You were never the special one. Never the one who stood out, no one except Amy, the girl who sat next to you in 6th period, knew your first name. People referred to you as that Lacey kid. And they only knew you because when you were 12, your father had taken a hair dryer to the bathtub, leaving you, your six other siblings, and your mother to live off welfare.

You heard the whispers that followed you everywhere, like a haunting past that would never go away. The guidance counselor that you met up with every second Friday, another reminder of your failed childhood that you were still living. They said to put it behind you and that you were better than your old man, but yet they were the ones who brought it up again and again.

So now you sit here in class, a wooden pencil between your fingers as you try to copy notes off the dusty, blackboard. The notes are a scribbled mess and people’s heads keep on getting in your way. You wish that you had glasses because then maybe you could actually learn properly. But…you’re too embarrassed to ask your mother, knowing already what her response will be.

You can already hear her words echo in your mind and your mouth cringes slightly to the left as the conversation that you would be having starts to unveil.

“What do you need glasses for? We have enough problems to worry about Jesse. Do you know how we’re going to eat tomorrow? No? So shut up about your damn glasses already.”

She would spit the words out at you. Like she was angry at them but in truth she was only angry with you. More disgusted than anything though.

A wadded up paper hits your head. You hear the snickers that follow but you ignore them and pretend that nothing happened. It’s better this way. You’ve learned your lesson; they’ll just make your body a mess if you even try to raise a finger against them.

Look to your left and wonder where Amy is today. Wonder if her jock boyfriend is beating the crap out of her again and if tomorrow she’ll come wearing heap loads of cover up and a turtleneck to hide the bruises and scabs that litter her whole body. She showed them to you once…only once though. You think that she knew how disgusted you were, not with her…but with him. She didn’t know that little, key detail though, it would have made the world to her if she did.

Your eyes flutter shut, you’re tired. Tired of this hell of a life, tired of getting out of your cheap mattress that lay on the ground because the bed frame was too expensive everyday just to lie back down at night with nothing changed. You’re not a genius at anything you do, just average. It was an endless cycle of nothingness.

And you hated that.

The sharp sound of something slapping against the desk’s top makes your eye lids jolt open. Your teacher stands over you, his hot breath seems to roll down your back, his eyes drilling dark holes into you. The sound of raucous laughter meets your ears and you can already feel a deep blush climbing up your cheeks.

“Mr. Lacey? Care to share with us your thoughts on the green house effect and what scientists are doing to fix this problem?”

He’s got you trapped; a wolf with its paw caught in steel. You can’t run anymore.

“I…uh, think that it’s not very good.”

Your teacher smiles at you smugly, laughing down at you like everyone else. He’s one of them you realize. They’re all against you. The school jerks…jocks, laugh also amongst themselves as if they would have come up with something better…smarter.

“Actually Mr. Lacey, I was just telling the class that you need to pick a partner for today’s lab. The green house effect was back in grade 7…not in grade 10. You’ll work with Kyle,” he says, not giving you a choice, his promise of being able to choose partners out the window, or at least for you and Kyle.

You can almost feel your stomach hit your feet. Kyle. School bully, champion athlete, football legacy, your own personal nightmare by day. The idea of the world coming to an end or Armageddon doesn’t seem all too bad compared to this. A fist slams into your bicep and you flinch but don’t do anything else, no sound, no reaction. The spot that was inflicted starts to almost spasm out and it burns.

“Go get the stuff dorkwad,” he states to you, his fist in his hand, sliding against the calloused, rough skin of his palm.

You shudder unintentionally before pushing your chair back, thinking the sound of metal scraping doesn’t sound that bad. He trips you on your way there and you allow him to have the sick pleasure even though you had known his action even before he did it.

Bullies are so predictable.

And for maybe the fifth time that day you miss Amy. Amy who would have listened in class enough to tell you what the lab would be about. Because of this second you have no idea what “stuff” you’re supposed to be collecting.

The thought of asking somebody for help seems impossible because for one you’re too scared. And two, it would be like sending out an SOS call to say that you admitted defeat and you needed somebody to save you. Which you did need. Badly. But you’d never admit it.

So you finally come up with the genius idea of just following everybody else. Grab the graduated cylinder that still has droplets of some translucent substance staining its side. Open the drawer to pull out one of the eye droppers. Pick up the piece of rotting onion and make your way back to Kyle who stares at you, boredom sinking his existence.

“What are you staring at? Get to work.” His words burn into you and you feel like one of the Jews under a Nazis command. You understand why they turned into near animals. It is quite understandable.

The whole lab confuses you and you’re trembling the whole time. Place the onion layer under the slide of the microscope, look through, jot down what you see. Realize that you were supposed to add the amber colored mixture before looking. Take out the slide again, under the glazed stare of Kyle, and add two drops. Finish your diagram, slightly proud, and then realize that Kyle’s waiting for you to do his.

Frustration threatens to explode within you. Forced breathes are taken to calm yourself down. Grab his sheet and sketch exactly what was on yours. You’re halfway done when the bell rings, signaling the end of the school day. Most kids love the ring of that bell because to them it’s the end of their nightmare, but for you it means the ending of one sort of torture and on to another.

“You’re slow Lacey. Like father like son,” Kyle tells you, his broad face crinkling up into a smirk. His hand reaches out, lingering on your sheet before pulling it towards himself, leaving you alone with a half-finished diagram.

Half-finished. Just like you. The glass is half empty, not half full.

Sigh lightly, it wasn’t any worse than you imagined. If that is even a comfort to know. You make your way out of the classroom, stuffing your bag with text books and meaningless sheets of paper. The bus ride home is almost depressing, but you’ve gotten too used to it to notice. You sit by yourself, staring out the window and wonder why the birds make such happy noises. There is nothing to be happy about, at least for you, so why should creatures like birds be happy?

It makes no sense. Your head is starting to hurt so you lean against the cool glass, feeling your heartbeat thud within your chest.

At least that’s constant.

The scenery isn’t beautiful. The same houses go by, faces that express emotions that you don’t remember even having become a blur. Until the bus reaches your house. A shit hole with grayish paint chipping off. The numbers that once stood out on the side of the house have dropped, leaving only the imprint of where they used to be. This house is your life. It’s you in a way and that is comforting to know that you can relate to one thing. Even if it’s not living.

Drag your feet across the bus’s floor. Step over the feet that hang out ominously, as if they’re meant to make you fall. The bus door swings open making a sort of swooshing sound. You don’t even bother saying good bye to the bus driver, you never did.

Enter the house now and hold your breath hoping that your older brother isn’t home so that maybe you can have the room to yourself. Relief strikes through you when you open the door to come into an empty room. As much as you love your brother, you also hate him at times, for being the person that you wanted to be and right now, you just can’t put up with it.

Fall into the bed now and feel your shoulder blades sink into the mattress. Your fingers idly draw circles into the tanned skin of your stomach. It’s only at times like these, where there is silence other than the sound of your own breathing, that you can bring yourself out of your usual state of mind and into a better place. A place that is a new high, where your thoughts consume you and you are anybody you want to be. Anybody except plain old Jesse Lacey.

Your imagination is your only escape. In this world you are Superman, King Lear, Aristotle, and all the other great minds. You can be anybody and that is the only thing that keeps you going on.
Ch. 2

Your brain is your alarm clock. It seems that everyday near 6 AM, you’re able to systematically just get up. You never understood what other kids meant when they say they overslept. The whole concept just didn’t make sense to you, maybe because it never happened.

But getting up didn’t mean that you actually got out of bed. Nope. You would lie there looking up at the ceiling and hearing the light snores from the lump beside you. That lump being your brother. Daydreams and imagination were clouded over with dread, knowing that today will be just as bad as yesterday.

Okay, so yes you are a sadist. Is it that bad?

Suddenly you freeze up, arms are surrounding you and drawing you closer. You hate it when this happens.

“Mmm, Michelle…” His voice is still heavy with sleep and you know that it’s an honest mistake, but that doesn’t make it any less gross. It’s your brother.

“Craig, Craig…get off me, please?” You found out a long time ago that begging works. So when all else fails, just beg and be nice of course even if you don’t mean it.

Slowly the hand releases you and pulls back to its owner. He rolls over, off the mattress and onto the wooden floor. You watch him through half-lidded eyes as he stumbles out of the room not even bothering to acknowledge your presence.

Why should he? You’re just Jesse. The overly emotional kid that likes to dream and think of stars, heroes, and fantasies.

Groan a little bit before staggering off the bed and walk to the closet to pull out random articles of clothing. It’s not like you would have that much of a choice anyway. Old t-shirts that are faded, the logo’s gone and sides slightly ripped. The jeans that are a bit too short and you thank God that you stopped growing. The knee areas are torn up and you’re happy that it’s kind of in fashion now so people can’t give you hell for it.

There’s no mirror to preen in…or just look at how shitty you are. You guess that it’s a good thing, being poor, so you don’t have mirrors in the house to be ugly in. Sigh again and walk out of the room, looking at the pictures that stain the walls. You hate these pictures. They’re from a time that just seems like a dream…maybe even another one of your fantasies. All of them were taken before you dad died, after that the camera had to be sold at a yard sale so no more pictures.

You shake your head and try to get the thoughts to dissolve because it’s too early to be depressed over the past. It’s too early for anything, especially too early to hear your mom bitch and complain about some irrelevant topic.

But you hear her. Something about stupid teenagers and how they never learn. She shoves the newspaper at you as if you need to know what she was talking about. You’re about to push it away when the image on the front catches your attention and holds you there.

It’s Amy. Amy who knows your first name and sits next to you in 6th period. Your heart catches in your throat as your eyes take in the news article. It is saying lies, things that can’t be true…it’s not possible. Can’t be.

How can Amy be dead? You just saw her on Tuesday…how? It says that she was murdered, beaten to death by her longtime boyfriend. Your face is paling quickly and you think you’re going to be sick. Maybe your organs will pop out seeing how you didn’t eat dinner or breakfast so what is in there?

You can feel Craig’s eyes hovering on you, brows furrowed and you realize you must look really strange right now. Maybe even like a ghost. Swallow the lump that formed at your throat down and take a breath.

“Let’s go Craig,” you tell him, standing up on shaky legs. You just want to get away from that newspaper and run away.

He nods, glances at the newspaper, still confused but goes with you out the door to wait for the school bus. You’re still shaking and trembling and you pray to God that it’s not real. That when you go to school, Amy will be there and that she’ll tell you that she broke up with her good-for-nothing boyfriend. Because then he won’t beat her anymore.

Get on the bus and find an empty seat while Craig goes to the back with all the popular kids. You’re facing the window but not staring at anything except the black that your eye lids cast down.

“Hey, can I sit here?” The speaker has a vague accent that you can’t place.

You look up to see an angel. Or at least that’s what he looks like at first and you never knew angels could be so pretty. Bleached blonde hair with dark roots threatening to sprout out. A smile that makes you want to turn into a puddle of goo at his feet. But what stands out the most are the blue eyes. The eyes that are intense and plain beautiful. There’s something about them that makes you feel that if you were to drown in these eyes, you would die happy.

But you don’t allow him to sit next to you because you’re grieving. You’re not supposed to be thinking about gorgeous angels…uh guys, only Amy. Shake your head at him and turn away before you see his reaction.

You don’t think that anybody’s ever turned him down before. With that smile, who could?

Mentally you scold yourself. One of the only people that have ever cared about you might be gone. Forever. This is not the time or place. With that in mind you’re able to go back to panicking. It’s not true, it’s not true, it’s not true. Amy will still be there. She has to be there…

But she isn’t.

The whispers are already spreading, everybody knows. But as long as you don’t believe it, it can’t be true. Every time anyone says that she deserved it, you have to mentally force yourself to not knock the person out. Idiots. Bastards. They should all rot in hell. They never knew Amy.

And you know that if in 6th period Amy’s not there, then the rumors will be true. Now walking to the class, you feel dread brewing up in your stomach. Not even a flicker of hope sparks inside you, going here is just for conformation almost. And you get your conformation.

She’s not there. The seat remains empty while the teacher walks in and at his side is the gorgeous angel. But you can’t care anymore, your insides seem to rip apart and the soft pin pricks of tears are hitting your eyelids, screaming to come out. You blink them away furiously, you aren’t going to cry.

“Class, class…heads up. This is Anthony Lovato, he’s going to be joining us from today onwards. Anthony go sit next to Mr. Lacey.” His finger goes out to point me out and a smirk passes Anthony’s face.

He drags his dirty Vans along the grubby white floor before collapsing into the chair. That’s Amy’s chair and you almost feel angry that he’s taking it. But…you can’t. Be angry at him that is. The teacher’s back turns to write down something on the board.

“So I guess I get to sit next to you anyway huh?” His eyes twinkle as he says this.

And you wonder why he isn’t pissed at you or maybe this is just an act and that when he gets the chance he’ll break your legs. You hope it’s the latter. Look down, shrug gently before going back into your world of ignorance.

“Okay guys, get into your groups. Anthony you can work with Jesse and Kyle, since you’re already sitting next to Mr. Lacey anyway.”
Groups? No, please no. You can’t handle Kyle right now. But he comes with his dumb glazed over look and stares at you like you’re supposed to read his mind.

“What the hell is up with you? Get working loser,” he growls at you, unmoving.

But today you don’t move. It feels physically impossible to move or get up. The sound of cruel laughter hits your ear drums, the sound vibrating off of them.

“You’re still all sad about that Amy bitch? She had it coming, such a slut.”

More laughter as if he can’t believe you actually have feelings. And before you can stop yourself, you’re up and your fist is making contact with his nose.

“Don’t you ever call her that,” you snarl into his face. Hands wrap around you to pull you off but you shrug them away and run out of the room. You can’t stay here, but where else are you supposed to go?

So you make your way to the bathroom, slamming your back against the wall there. Breathing in heavily and silently willing yourself not to cry. You can’t cry, not here. Not where anyone can actually see you. Breathe in. Breathe out. Just like a pregnant woman, it’ll be okay. It has to be okay.

You don’t know how long you stay in the bathroom before the bell rings. No tears yet. You can be proud of yourself. There are footsteps, you hear the sound of thuds coming closer. So you stand up, dust imaginary dust off your ripped jeans and get ready to leave.

When you open the door you come face to face with a mad Kyle. A Kyle that is sporting a slightly red nose and a very red face. Behind him is his legion of asshole followers. You gulp, already knowing the inevitable. Rough hands grab you by the collar of your shirt.

“What was that you fucker?” he shouts at you, spit flying onto your face. And you cringe. He takes the motion on your face as fear and he smashes your back against a wall. You hear the sickening crash of flesh against cement. Now flesh on flesh.

They’re all around you, cheering Kyle on, while he repeatedly punches you. On your stomach, arms, face, and any other piece of body that he has access to. Soon you’re on the floor, side down, whimpering and trying to crawl up into a ball. Feet kicking at you, all of them now. So much for not crying.

When you’re full out bawling, they leave with a silent message on their faces that their work there is done. You can hear the door swinging open and closed. Your body hurts so much right now and you can feel every sob racking through you. You want to stop so badly, but you don’t know how. Don’t know how to turn off the faucet.

The sound of the door swinging open again catches your attention barely. You roll up into a ball again, assuming that they have come back to give you even more hell. But you don’t hear the taunts and soon you pull your head out of your arms to see Anthony.

His eyes are staring at you so deeply that you wonder if he can see that you’re dying right now. And you wonder if he would want to save you if he does see it. He wouldn’t though because you’re just Jesse Lacey, nobody worth saving.

But just for once, you wish that you were worth saving.
Ch. 3-

You’re the one that breaks the stare. Turn away, embarrassed and ashamed of yourself. It’s your fault that you’re in this state, shake your head twice. What were you thinking? Shut your eyes tight and hope that when you reopen them, Anthony won’t be there.

Open your eyes and look up. He’s still there, closer now and inching forward slowly until he’s right above you. A frown smears over his perfectly defined features as he bends down to reach you.

At the touch of his hand to your shoulder you flinch. And if you had the energy, you would be up and running out of this dinky bathroom with the bad lighting. But you don’t, so you stay there with your eye lids taped down, unable to see anything.

“Hey…” His voice shatters into you, uncertain and hesitant.

Blink twice; his hands are moving over you to try to bring you off the germ-infested floor. He succeeds into making you sit upright, your back hitting the tiled wall much more softly than it had when Kyle had slammed you against it.

Your pathetic crying has slowed down into just a few gasps and the odd hiccup here and there. Eyes now open warily staring into his electric blue ones. Hands coming to wring together, tossing and fumbling.

“Shhh,” he tells you, raising a hand to wipe away the tears that streak your face. You don’t move, feeling that if you did you’ll ruin the moment. Whatever moment this may be, because of right now you don’t know what this all means.

It probably means nothing but you’re grateful for it anyway. It’s been a long time since anybody has bothered to wipe away your tears. You don’t even remember the last time you’ve been comforted.

It’s at this thought, the fact that you are so emotionally and physically separated from any affection or any other sappy feeling that sends you over the edge again. Stumbling over your tears and ending up in mini convulsions that make you gasp from the strikes of pain that shoot up your body.

His hand is on your back now rubbing gently and making quiet cooing noises into your ear. You hadn’t even realized he was this close until now. Warm breath is blowing softly into your disheveled mousey brown hair and you almost shiver.

“It’s okay kid…I mean Jesse. Really, it is.”

Broken promises, forced lies, and exaggerated hope fills your mind and you want to believe him, but you know you’ll only be hurting yourself more if you do. So you don’t say anything and hope that the rubbing on your shoulders never ceases.

You’re sure that it’s been more than six minutes of complete silence other than your occasional hiccup before he speaks again.

“So tell me about Amy…who was she? What was she like?” he asks you, probably trying to break the monotony of the atmosphere that clouds over both of you.

Gulp down the lump in your throat. Even thinking about her hurts, like a cut that never scabs over and keeps on bleeding. This will never heal.

“She…she sat next to me. Amy, she had black hair with swirls of pink, like a lollipop almost. She liked singing along to The Smiths and Britney Spears. Her boyfriend used to hit her. Really hard and it, it left scars and shit.”

The tears are building up in your eyes but you refuse to blink and let them out. You take a deep breath, trying to collect your thoughts. The thoughts that come out so randomly and have absolutely no relation to each other except for the fact that they’re all the things you want to forget.

Anthony nods, light hair falling into his face as he blows them away almost half-heartedly.

“I’m sorry…you don’t have to go on about it. If you don’t wanna talk about it,” he mumbles gently, only centimeters away from your face.

“I…I don’t know what I want.”

It’s true, you really don’t know. Oh wait, you do know. You want Amy to come back from the dead…even if she has to come in zombie form. You want this Anthony, angel-like character to love you. In all ways. Is that so wrong?

He nods, pretending to understand the absolute garbage that streams out of your mouth. You suddenly feel pressure on your shoulder and part of you knows it’s him but the other part doesn’t…can’t believe it. Turn your head to face him and sure enough you see blonde hair meeting a black, clothed shoulder. Your shoulder, his head. Connected.

If only all things were like that. Or if they could just stay that way until time rotted away.

“So what, did you like her?” His voice lulls you out of the sort of mind freeze that you’ve settled into.

Like her? She was your friend, of course you liked her.

“She was my friend, of course I liked her.”

You want to lay your head down on his. Just like what the stars do in those insanely romantic and sappy movies do. You figure that he would either…1. Jump away and tell you to get the fuck away from him…or 2. Jump away and then tell you as nicely as possible that you should never touch him again.

So it’s a lose-lose situation. Story of your life actually.

“No…I mean, more than a friend.” The tone of his voice is kind of the duh tone mixed up with something that sounds like jealousy. No, take that part out, why would he be jealous? He makes it seem like you were supposed to know what he meant the first time he said it. But…just ew. Amy, more than a friend? Ew…you don’t think so.

“No way. Not like that anyway. I just…liked her as a friend.”

Talking. You’re almost surprised that you know how to do that properly and not mess it up totally like you mess everything else up.

“Oh, that’s cool then,” he says, relaxed again. Comfort and confidence oozing out of every pore that is inside of him. The total opposite of you and you’re wondering if opposites really do attract. You hope they do.

“Um, well Anthony…thanks for this. But I want to go home,” you tell him as you feel the creeping pain starting to thud within you. You just want to take your mind off this hurting because they always said that it was mind over body right?

Make a list in your head. Go home. Take aspirin. Lie in bed and try to sleep away the pain, if that’s possible. But as much as your mind whirls with thoughts, your body is stronger and the pain is stronger, reminding you that it’s still there and you can’t beat it

Struggle up, putting on a failing ‘I’m-so-manly’ show for Anthony who had just nodded at you after your life-changing statement. Gasp from the ache that crawls up and hits you in the stomach. Fall into Anthony and apologize profusely because you’re sitting in his lap, after having dropping on your ass.

He smiles, gleaming white teeth and all. He doesn’t even bother tipping you out of his lap. Instead he leans closer, as if the slow-mode button is turned on, until cherry red lips are directly on top of yours.

“Don’t call me Anthony. You sound like my mother.”

Moves a little closer until his lips are on top of yours, brushing them smoothly with his own. Something wet is prodding at your closed opening and your barrier breaks down completely.

You can feel the muscle moving in your mouth and you want to pinch yourself to make sure that this is not just another fantasy. Your own tongue refuses to move, too scared knowing you’ll probably just mess it all up. You can feel his rubbing, massaging, licking against yours and you mewl in response.

He pulls away briefly to stare you down. A sigh of disappointment escapes you coming from out of nowhere.

“And I definitely wouldn’t want to be kissing my mother.”

A wink and cocky smile send you over the edge once again. And you were right…dying in blue depth would be happiness.
Ch. 4 –

You are Robin Hood. Pushing through crowds in forest-green tights with a peacock’s feather in your hat. Shooting arrows at faceless enemies who die instantaneously and disappear before you can go up and identify them. You wonder why your companions’ faces are always blurred messes, just smudges of black and white. But, you don’t think on this detail for too long because you have more important things to do…

Like saving the fair lady who is being kept in the tallest tower.

Dodge in your mind, quickly now. Up the stairs, around the corner. Faster, faster, you can hear the dragons coming. The large wooden door swings open at the touch of your hand. Take swift steps inside and come face to face with…Tony. Tony whose face is defined and you could sketch out every single wrinkle or mole if you had to.

You reach out to him, offering a hand which he takes to pull himself off the floor. And you think that there’s been a serious role reversal here seeing how he’s supposed to be saving you. Just about to run down the stairs again and defeat the evil monsters –

“Jess, get your fat ass up. We’re gonna be late,” Craig yells at you, knocking you out of your Tony filled daydream. He throws a shoe at you and you hold it up, your eyebrows rising slightly at him. But he ignores you and races down the stairs. Sigh once, you’d rather stay in bed the whole day fantasizing about Tony than go to school. Wait a second…Tony. He’s in school, what were you thinking?

Leap up, cringing when your warm feet hit the cold, wooden floor. Is this what a fire feels like when it’s being put out? Dash to your closet and have a mild panic attack. This never gets old, finding clothes that you hope Tony will like. You still feel that soft tingling feeling in your stomach that makes you want to either throw up or embrace it.

No time to ponder about what to wear, you can already hear Craig screaming at you to come down. Grab a black tee shirt and pants that you think belong to your brother but you don’t care. You have a choice now, take a bath and smell good/okay but have Craig ready to kill you, or go to school with bed hair but still have a life. Craig happy or Tony happy?

It wasn’t even a choice.

The cold water hits you hard, waking you up completely. That’s the only good thing about not having a heating system. Hurry now, rinse the shampoo out from your brown hair. Step out, grab the white towel that lies on the rusted hook, and use it to wipe yourself dry. Pull on your clothes, unlock the door, and take the stairs two at a time. Craig’s already half way out the door when your feet hit the landing.

Say good-bye to breakfast, it’s not like there was much to eat anyway. You have to run to keep up with Craig’s long strides which seem to just eat up the ground, while he scolds you for being so slow. The yellow bus is already honking as you two turn the corner and stumble into it.

Look around you for the mop of blonde hair, but see none. You sigh with disappointment; maybe Tony’s not coming to school after all. What a waste of getting up. Suddenly feel fingers wrapping around your wrist, look up and wonder how you could have missed him.

He pulls you down to sit next to him while talking a storm into your ear. Telling you about the cereal he ate, the newspaper, sleeping late, and just everything that pops up into his mind. And you sit there, perfectly contented just to hear his voice. Laughing slightly at his comments as the bus turns into the school.

You feel your heart drop, like it always does around this time. This time. The time to say good bye to Tony and wait till lunch and sixth period before you can see him again. It gets harder every time. Your attachment to him is almost obsessive. He’s the celebrity and you’re just the lucky fan whose dream of a lifetime came true. How can you let go?

But you do. Nod good bye to him and turn away, trying to hide your disappointment. He would probably be disgusted with your addiction with him. You’re almost disgusted with it. The day is long and boring. Teachers going on about what x is equal to, World War 2, Hamlet, and a list full of other things you don’t care about.

Lunchtime goes by, Tony fails to show up. Your heart feels like a jiggly mess of goo, so scared about what could have happened to him. Maybe he was beaten up and raped…or something to that effect. The feeling of dread which seems so familiar creeps up on you, holding on with sickening force. You feel too sick to eat, your stomach almost clenching and unclenching from your worries.

Enter the science lab now, palms sticky and forehead damp with sweat. Take your seat noticing immediately that he’s not there yet. It’s true; he’s dead, just like Amy. Your brain screams this at you while you shake your head, eyes fall shut. Sometimes you wish that you could separate yourself from your mind so that you didn’t have to hear its rambles. Maybe you are being ridiculous and Tony isn’t dead…but he’s not here with you, probably decided that he shouldn’t waste his time on you anymore, so he is as good as dead.

You’re lucky today. The teacher doesn’t assign anymore experiments and drones in monotone about the different cell structures in your body. Everything he says escapes you and even though you know your education is important, you just can’t bring yourself to listen right now. Rejection, abandonment, hatred all just hurt and you wish you had never met your bleached angel. This is exactly how you felt when you saw your father’s pictures of him in the bathtub. He left you. Tony left you. Everybody will leave you.

So why can’t you just suck it up and get used to it?

The bell rings and your worn out shoes drag against the checkered black and white floor, squeaking softly. Your head’s down, eyes staring at the floor as you go to your locker, pack up, and leave the school’s main doors. Walk out and trail the old building’s wall with your fingers, not noticing the pair of shoes that follow you. You’re just about to turn the corner when cold hands grab you, one covering your mouth restricting you from screaming bloody murder, and the other one goes around your torso to bring you closer.

Struggle in the arms and hold back tears because this really is too much to handle. Twist and try to see who your kidnapper or ex-convict is so that you can recognize his face and identify him to the police if you get away.

“Relax Jess, it’s just me.”

You freeze up, stop shaking immediately. The hands around you let go enough for you to turn around to face him. You relax slightly as Tony’s familiar face comes into your line of vision. A giggle bursts softly from your lips.

“Hi,” is the only response you can think of after your mild panic fit. Your cheeks are flushing deep pink, teeth gnawing on your lip furiously making indents.

“Miss me much?” He asks you, eyebrows wiggling suggestively and as cocky as ever.

You could tell him that you want to keep him nailed to your side till the end of time so that he can never leave you but you’re not too sure how well that would sink with him. And plus, where’s the fun in actually telling him the truth. He doesn’t need to know that you are 100% infatuated with him and that you’ve already thought about what color flowers you want at your wedding. So you lie.

“Never even noticed you were gone,” you tell him, a smirk tugging at the sides of your mouth.

He pouts at you, lower lip sticking out adorably, and makes a sniffling noise in his throat.

“Aww, don’t cry. I’m sorry,” you say, guilt already leaking into your voice, even though he’s only kidding. Despite your words he keeps up with the act, rubs where his heart supposedly is and mutters words like broken heart. Hold your breath before leaning forward to plant a small kiss on his cheek and shoot off, too embarrassed to stick around for his response. As you run off you hear him shout bye to you and you smile.

You reach home, your face feels weird from smiling but you don’t stop. It’s a good sort of weird you decide. Your mother’s at the door already, Cody by her side, a scowl is settling down on her features.

“Where have you been? Do you think the laundry’s just gonna do itself? Here, bring Cody with you and don’t take forever.” She shoves the bag of dirty clothing at you along with five quarters before turning back into the house.

You glance down at your little brother, who you’ve always thought looked like a mini version of you. The same messy brown locks of curls and the deep blue eyes that you often find dreaming off into empty space. You don’t want Cody to be like you though, you want him to be better. His small hand fits into yours as you both go down the road to the local Laundromat.

On the way he bubbles with innocent questions. Jesse why is the sky blue. Jesse how do birds fly? Jesse can I be a bird?...They’re never ending. So you nod at him, giving him simple answers. And even inside the shop he continues until you sit him on top of the whirling washing machine. You’re glad when he falters for a second and you think that he might have run out of questions.

“Jesse, why do your eyes dance now?”

You smile lightly at him, amused and confused by this question. Did your eyes dance? How do eyes dance? Now you’re the one with questions. A slight cough signals that he does expect an answer soon. So you sigh and murmur softly,

“I…I guess they just have something to dance for now.”
Ch. 5-

It’s been two weeks and four days since you met Tony. Two weeks and four days of dancing and singing eyes, unfamiliar smiles, and being in an aura of warmness filled with safety and contentment. It’s seems like nothing can bring you down from your new high as long as you’re with Tony because nothing else matters when you’re with him. You’re able to look through the world with his eyes it seems and realize that maybe life is worth going through.

You’re at his house now, the front door to be exact. And your jaw has just hit the floor, well it has ever since you first laid your eyes on his house actually. His house…it seems like it was taken out of the movies. Cut out and pasted in the middle of Long Island complete with the shimmering pool, which is the blue that’s just a shade lighter than Tony’s eyes.

“Just put your shoes over there and follow me,” Tony instructs before striding onto the marble floor.

After kicking your shoes off you hesitate before entering and check the bottoms of your socks, making sure that nothing dirty or unwanted is there. Practically tiptoe onto the shiny floor that sparkles like there are some hidden jewels beneath the surface. And then stop midway and feel your mouth fall open to make awing sounds. Heels hit the floor and stare at the huge cylinder fish tank that goes from the floor to the ceiling in front of you. Take a few cautious steps forward and reach out a hand to almost graze the glass that separates your world from the underwater world.

Watch the different fish shoot back and forth, as if playing a game of tag with each other. A sea of red, orange, black, yellow, and blue mingling together. A small smile inhabits your face and you feel like naming all the fish ridiculous names. Like Red Fishy and such.

Hear the slap of feet entering the room and jerk your hand back to your side, afraid and guilty. But the sound of, ‘what the hell do you think you’re doing?’ fails to ring in your ears so you glance up and see a maid sweeping the house. Her broomstick making deliberate, wide motions, clearing away imaginary dust from the already clean floor.

“Jess, what are you doing?” Tony questions, his eyebrows rising slightly to make a perfect golden arch.

“Tony…Tony, you have a fish thing in your house…” you trail off excitedly, pointing at the fish again delighted and amazed by it.

“Uh…yeah. I think I noticed that already Jess,” he says lightly to you before taking your elbow and leading you away from the tank.
Sigh gently and force your gaze away from the fish to Tony and touch his shirt, feeling the soft material roll beneath the pads of your fingers.

“You changed,” you state.

He nods at you and ushers you into a room that’s bigger than your kitchen and living room combined. The moment you enter, you realize that there’s another body in the room. A body with a head full of messy brown hair, that is similar to yours, except that it’s darker. It’s a boy that is clearly a few years older than you with striking hazel-blue eyes that seem to drill into you and observe every move you make. Divert your eyes from him back to Tony and fight the urge to run out of the room.

“Jesse, this is Matt. He’s my cousin,” Tony tells you and nudges you forward towards his cousin.

“Uh, hi, it’s um, nice to meet you,” you stutter as you reach your hand forward to do the only thing that makes sense to you right now…a handshake. His eyes cast down to look at your hand before turning away and leaving you in an awkward position. Drop your hand and look helplessly at Tony who doesn’t say anything, a soft blush lights up his cheeks.

“Yeah, whatever,” Matt intones gruffly before raising his own hand to give you a lazy wave back. Turn back towards Tony, but if you would had not moved in that second, you would have seen the jealous almost malicious look that Matt shot to Tony. The look that sends Tony’s eyes to the ground, like that fat, naughty kid who took a cookie behind his mother’s back and was caught. You do notice that look that suddenly overcomes Tony’s features.

After when you’re both walking away to go to Tony’s room, Tony apologizes profusely and swears that his cousin is not usually like that. The blush disappears and his sense of cool and confidence takes over him again. His room is like every other part of his house…beautiful and neat. The dark blue bed sheets are laying pulled out on the mattress, already made. Books are piled up in tidy stacks on his desk. The chairs are pushed in around his desks. The only thing that is remotely Tony are the posters that engulf the crème walls that are of bands like The Smiths and Rancid.

To the side of the room is something that interests you the most. A few stands where a couple guitars lie, resting heavily on them. Indicating with your hand to them you ask Tony, “You play?”

He grins an accomplished, almost proud smile. “Yep, but I’m not that good at it. Matt’s teaching me actually.”

Trail your fingers on the stretched strings of the guitar, envious of them and Tony’s ability to play them.

“I could teach you what I know later if you like.”

Jerk your eyes back to Tony, “I’d like that.”

He’s on the bed now, patting the spot beside him, signaling you to come, just like a master would to his puppy or something. And just like that lost, abandoned puppy, you go to him and sit down. There’s a funny sort of comfortable silence that resumes now and your hands clench together, you can feel your nails making imprints into the soft fleshy part of your palm.

“I’m happy you decided to come after all Jess,” he tells you, turning so that he’s facing you now.

You nod because you’re glad you came too.

He takes one of your hands in his, stroking it softly and gently before using it to pull you towards him. Your mouth falls onto his and he kisses you, his tongue running along the insides of your mouth. The hand he had used to pull you towards him is now going in your hair, rifling and pushing through the already messy parts of it. His other hand rubs smoothly against your back and you’re briefly aware that it’s going lower and lower.

Lower until it reaches your ass, gripping it, making you gasp slightly into his mouth from the new sensation. You two stay like that for a good ten minutes, making out and groping. The feeling of stuffiness in your pants has heightened and it’s starting to make you very uncomfortable. The hand on your bottom leaves and you moan out your temporary disappointment until it grasps your hard-on through your jeans.

Rubbing in smooth circles onto you. The actions are so simple but yet they make you cuss out and grind your hips more into his hands. You hear the chuckle that vibrates from his mouth into yours because of your eagerness. And you’re just about to cream yourself right there, at his hands when the door comes flying open.

Both of your eyes go to the door, a little bit annoyed and frustrated at the timing before you actually see who it is. Matt. With his eyes almost popping out of his head. Mouth ajar. Thoroughly shocked.

You and Tony jump away from each other at once so that he lands on the floor after miscalculating where the bed actually ended and with you just on the edge gripping onto the dark bed sheets. You don’t see the way Tony’s and Matt’s eyes connect or the way Matt’s glisten with anger and Tony’s with obvious fear. The door slams, leaving an echo that seems to even penetrate through your bones.

Tony gets off the floor to once again sit next to you. But you’re pretty sure that his motives this time have changed.

“That was awkward,” you offer to him, but he doesn’t give you any response other than closing his eyes for a moment.

His adam’s apple jerks in his throat and you watch it before he opens his mouth to say something.

“I think that you should leave now Jess. Just till I can…I don’t know, talk to Matt. I’ll see you tomorrow ok?”

He doesn’t wait for your response and takes you by your left hand leading you out of his room, out of his house, and perhaps out of his life. He abandons you outside the gates after saying a rushed bye. And you’re left with a feeling of crushed hope but just enough to wish with all your might that he’ll take you back.
Ch. 6

All day long you’ve been worried. The kind of worry that makes you want to roll up into a dark, black hole away from the rest of the world and just die because the constant thudding of your heart against your chest seems hard enough to kill. Of course the rest of the day from when Tony left you outside his house, isn’t in reality really that long. Maybe around seven hours only, not including the night hours, but to you it seems like a never changing eternity.

You’re dreading going to school this morning. You feel it in your stomach, a dull ache, as you pull on clothes, as you eat half a bowl of cereal for breakfast (no milk), and in all the motions you go through. But you still have a little bit of self respect and pride left that will not allow you to actually let Tony see how much he meant to you. You won’t allow him to have the satisfaction that he broke you again.

Nope, you’re better than that. Or…at least you hope you are.

Walking down with Craig now and you’re having an inner battle with yourself almost. To ask Craig if you can sit next to him and have a chance at showing Tony how easily you are able to get over him but having to deal with the even higher chance of embarrassment and rejection or saving yourself from that sort of humility and just sit by yourself. It won’t be anything new anyway.

Too late. The bus arrives and Craig’s climbing the stairs before you get the chance to even open your mouth and ask him. Curse under your breath, this really isn’t working for you. The sound of your footsteps seems hollow, as if it’s the sound of your doom. It’s more like the final realization that you Jesse Lacey will:

a) live a long and lonely life
b) scare everybody that draws near to you away
c) never have anybody to love or
d) all of the above.

It’s a really depressing reality you decide but still, nothing that surprises you.

Caught up in all your thoughts you miss the voice that calls out your name several times as you skim the bus chairs with your dirt-clogged nails. It’s only when the owner of that voice tugs on your shirt sleeve that you finally look up and acknowledge him. Him being Tony of course. A Tony that makes you gasp when you first look at him. The huge bruise that paints his right cheek in a shade of bluish magenta and the split lip catches your attention and holds you there.

Your knees are threatening to buckle from beneath you because of the obvious familiarity of the whole situation but you can’t quite place why it’s familiar. You’re running into dead ends in your mind as you hopelessly try to find out the answers. The hand is still on you, now wrapping around your wrist to cling firmly and drag you down next to him.

“Look Jess, I’m sorry for what happened yesterday okay? But you don’t have to go into a huge hissy fit about it.”

His eyes are traveling to you, sending electrical tingles down your spine.

Make a coughing noise from the back of your throat before answering.

“Hissy fit?” You don’t even really know what that is. But it doesn’t sound good. You figure that any word that has ‘hiss’ in it can’t be…good. That word just sounds ugly, plain and simply put. You don’t like it.

“Yeah, like ignoring me and all that other shit.” His eyebrows arch like he usually does when he’s stating something he thinks is obvious. He’s still staring at you like you’re some sort of lab rat. And right now, you sort of feel like one.

Swallow down the lump of spit that has gathered in your mouth while trying to think of some excuse other than temporary deafness that you can give to him. But…nothing.

“Oh. Sorry, I didn’t mean it.”

Bite your lower lip; it’s a nervous habit that you seem to have got into. And of course so much for not showing him how much a coward and low life you actually are.

He waves his hand carelessly and you notice that three fingers are speckled with black nail polish, undoubtedly a new…fetish. He makes a clucking noise before replying almost immediately.

“Forget it, you shouldn’t be apologizing anyway. I have gotta be the most…ungraceful host you’ve ever had huh?”

At this point he chuckles nervously to himself before looking up to see if he’s gained your acceptance. Little does he know that he had gained it ever since he grabbed onto your shirt. But…Tony Lovato nervous? You didn’t even know that was a possibility. Guess you learn something new everyday huh?

Smile softly. “I’ve had worse. But you’re still lacking a few skills in that department,” you tell him, poking him childishly in the stomach.

He pokes you back with his thumb, which you think is odd since you would usually use your index finger. But then again, Tony Lovato is odd. A good odd of course, but nevertheless odd.

“Well yeah so I thought I would make it up to you. My parents own this great cabin just up north from here and I was just wondering…hoping that you’d like to come up this weekend. So how about it, give me another chance at being host? I have a few more skills other than my host ones that I could show you…”

His eyebrows waggle naughtily at you and his pink tongue slides to brush against his upper lip. And, you blush.

“Um, I’ll have to check with my mom first just to see if it’s alright. You know just to check so she won’t have to worry because that’s what mom’s do. Worry right?”

You trail off from your babbling and note how your cheeks have probably gone just a few shades deeper. His eyes seem to twinkle at you…or Cody would have said that they were dancing right about now and he nods.

“You do that. Call me when you find out. You have my number yeah? I really hope you’ll come Jesse,” he says as the bus pulls up the school driveway and the students around you are getting up.

Yes you’ve got his number. The number that he carelessly scribbled into the palm of your hand just before class started. The number that you later on neatly transferred to six different sheets of paper…just in case one got lost. None have gone missing yet so yes, you’ve got his number.

And all through the rest of the school day this is all you can think about. The thought of going away with Tony to some fantasy cabin for more than a few hours excites you. No, it more than excites you. It makes you weak with anticipation and hope. You feel more energetic than you’ve felt in weeks. Happy enough to stand up on one of the canteen tables and sing the Barney theme song at the top of your lungs.

And it feels damn good.

In sixth period Tony reminds you again to ask and you laugh slightly at the slight irony. It’s been the only thing you’ve thought about all day, there wasn’t even the slightest possibility that you could have forgotten. Unless you had amnesia or something, which you didn’t.

It’s only when you’re walking up the driveway home that the excitement finally starts to wear away. The level of adrenaline in your system fails to pump and instead you’re filled with the uncomfortable feeling of unease. What if your mother doesn’t let you go? How will you tell Tony? What will he think?

Oh no. This is not good. Pray silently in your mind. Your hands clamping together in the traditional prayer mode.

‘Please God let Mama say yes. Please, I promise to be good. I promise really…’

This continues until you enter the kitchen area where seventy percent of your family is. Your heart sinks a bit. This will be embarrassing but Mama seems in a good mood today even humming a tune you can’t quite place softly.

Set your bag down on the floor before moving forward to pat Cody’s head as he eats peanut butter from a small spoon. Clear your throat and think of how you’re gonna ask.

“Hi Mama.” That’s a start. Not that great of a one but a start.

She doesn’t turn to face you but makes a soft grunting noise as if that’s her newest way of saying hi.

“Mama, I have a friend that—“

“You have a friend? Aha, suuure.” Your sister Hailey has always been one to put forward her thoughts. You wish she wouldn’t, they’re not always so nice to hear.

Turn to face her. “Yeah. I do”

Turn back to your mother. “Anyway, he has this place, cabin somewhere up north and he says his parents wouldn’t mind if we stayed there this weekend. Can I?”

You realize that you probably sound like a 3 year old asking if he can play with his best friend or something.

“Only you and him? By yourselves in some cabin? Isn’t that a bit gay? Fag-like thing to do?” Hailey asks you, her eyes shifting to look you up and down.

“Wait…are you?”

Oh no, you knew something like this would happen. Stall, bring yourself more time. Squeak out, “Am I what?”

She rolls her eyes at you, pops her blue bubblegum before answering.

“Gay. Are you?”

At this point Jamey and Rory shift to face you, waiting for you to say something back.

“No, course not. I just thought it would be fun. It’s not gay.” You reply shortly, narrowing your eyes a little.

“Jesse, what does gay mean?” chimes Cody’s childlike voice, his mouth sticky from the peanut butter.

Eyes open wider a bit to glare at Hailey from mentioning the g word in Cody’s presence. She should have known better.

“Uh, it means happy Code. Are you happy?” you ask him in a fluster to distract him feeling bad for sort of lying. But technically you weren’t lying.

He smiles a grin that is missing a few teeth at you. “Yeah Jesse, I’m gay.”

Snickers and laughter erupt from the rest of your siblings. You sigh before facing your mother again.

“Can I Mama?”

You wait for her as she wipes her hands on the rag, her dark eyes on you and you know she’s deciding.

“Yes you can, it’ll save some food around here anyway.”

Usually, back in the Before Tony times, a statement like this would make you upset but instead it has you smiling like a maniac and hugging her quickly.

“Thanks Mama,” and with that you go skipping upstairs to call Tony. You realize that those six pieces of paper were useless as you memorized his number by heart the very first day he gave it to you. On the third ring he picks up.

“Hello.”

“Tony, it’s me.”

“Oh Jesse, hey man.”

“I can go.”

“Really? That’s awesome. Hey so I’ll pick you up at eleven tomorrow at your place. It’ll be like a three hour drive there so we gotta start early.”

“Tony…eleven isn’t exactly early.”

“Early enough for me. I mean the birds and stuff aren’t even up at that hour.”

“…Yeah they are.”

“Okay maybe, but I don’t hear them until like 12. Anyway just be there ok? I promise you won’t regret it.”

“Okay, see you tomorrow I guess.”

“Yeah bye.”

Click. The sound of static fills your ears so you hang the phone back on its hooks. Your stomach is bouncing inside of you and it feels like all your nerves are on fire. Jump around in the small square also known as your room while Craig walks in and gives you a look that says you’ve gone mad.

At night you can’t fall asleep. Too busy thinking about your pretty Tony and the trip ahead. You remember the bruise and his lip, frown deeply wondering how he got it. It’s then, lying on your back next to Craig, your breathing coming in fast little gasps, that it hits you. Sit up with your back stiff. You realize why Tony with all his bruises seems so heart wrenchingly familiar.

It’s like Amy all over again.
Ch. 7

You never thought it would be so hard to convince yourself that you were just imagining things. It’s hard to forget your new realization and it’s hard to not let it affect you. You know that it’s going to be haunting you for the whole trip unless you ask Tony about it but you’re scared. Scared that if you do somehow muster up enough courage, you’ll be shot down and you’ll be stuck at home doing laundry, taking care of Cody, or other things along the same lines.

Let out the breath you had been holding shakily and shiver slightly. Your head is throbbing; it feels like somebody is scraping your brain against your skull. Lie back down and sink into the discolored mattress, your hands run through your grime infested hair getting tangled up in the thick, curly knots.

‘I need to go with the flow,’ you whisper to yourself, your lips barely moving, the words coming out in hushed forms. You repeat that several times but no longer out loud, Craig might think you’ve finally gone insane and then you would be sent away to Cuckoo Ville. And that would be…not so good.

You don’t bother trying to sleep anymore, it’s no use. You’re up for good, well until tomorrow night at least. Shrug the blankets off of your body and fall to the floor on your hands and knees. Pick yourself up from the ground, thinking about the amount of germs and dirt that you have just accumulated. The thought hits you funny and you’re left wondering why you even care, you’ve never cared about anything this superficial before. As long as your heart was still beating, everything else was minor and didn’t matter.

Shake your head and make your way to the closet to pull out clothing, hum a tune under your breath not sure where it came from. The shower is too cold; it doesn’t make you feel more alive or awake because you’re as awake as you can possibly be. Take your time dressing, it’s like 3AM only, there’s no use of hurrying, no use of changing this early either but yet you do because it’s something to keep your attention off the whole Tony affair.

Push open the bathroom door and shudder against the chilly air that brushes past you. Make your way back to your room to grab a brown duffel bag and stuff random articles of clothing inside, not really sure how much to bring so you pack away most of your wardrobe which isn’t a lot so it’s no big deal. You hear Craig rolling around on your now vacant spot and then the clearing of a throat.

“Why are you up so early?” he asks you, his voice bleary and deep from sleep or the lack of it.

“Couldn’t get comfortable,” you tell him, not bothering to turn around and look at him.

“So you get up and…pack? Makes a lot of sense Jess.” There’s the sound of a body hitting the bed and you know he’s going back to sleep.

“Didn’t have anything better to do. Night,” you mumble mostly to yourself and wait until the room is perfectly silent again except for the sound of Craig inhaling and exhaling air. Zip up the bag and go to sit at the edge of the mattress, not sure what you’re supposed to do with yourself now. You spot the pale green phone on the side table and have a ping-pong like argument with yourself in your mind. To call or not to call. You know how annoying a phone ringing is but…this is an emergency.

You’re dying…of boredom. In your state of mind it all makes sense to you and it seems like a good, legitimate reason but you have a feeling that Tony and household might beg to differ. Unplug the phone and cradle it in your arms to bring outside into the small hallway where you proceed to hook it up there.

Punch in the numbers slowly, pausing for a few seconds before hesitantly pressing down on the last digit, 7. The rings echo in your ear and the whole time you’re contemplating just hanging up, your courage draining quickly and surely. Just right before you’re about to put the phone back down, somebody picks up on the other line.

“Hello?” The voice is gruff and low and not Tony.

“H-hi. Can I please speak to Tony?” You hate the sound of your voice. Scared, mouse-like, no confidence, every quality that you wouldn’t want.

“What? At 4:47 in the morning? Are you some kind of insomniac freak?” His voice is everything you would want though. In one word, fearless.

“Sorry, I’ll call back later. I didn’t mean to wake you up or anything…” You trail off nervously just wanting to put the phone down and end this conversation with Mr…you don’t even know who he is.

“Ha. You don’t mean to wake people up when you’re calling in the middle of the night? Yeah sure. What was so urgent that it couldn’t wait until tomorrow anyway?” He seems to hold a lot of dark humor in his voice. There’s just something about him that you can’t place your finger on. It’s unnerving.

“Nah…it’s okay. I’ll just talk to Tony when I see him. T-thanks though.” Please you think to yourself, just let me hang up. You would promise to never call after 7 again if that’s what he wanted.

“It’s a Friday, you probably won’t see him till Monday since he’s going on his little trip for the weekend. Just saying…if it’s that important, you don’t want to wait a whole 48 hours.” He’s a persistent little bastard, but good at it, you’ll give him that. Probably make a good used car salesman.

“Oh, don’t worry. I’ll talk to Tony sooner than that. I’m going up with him,” you tell him proudly; a smile touches your lips at just thinking about it. There’s a pause.

“…Going with him? I must have tuned him out when he said that. Wait a sec…you’re Jesse aren’t you?”

He sounds almost friendly, too friendly maybe. But you don’t notice. You don’t hear the sugar coated words that spill from his mouth as he practically interrogates you with questions. You answer them truthfully, happy to get to a subject that you feel almost comfortable with…Tony. His words are still nice and warm as he says a cheerful good night to you and tells you that he’ll tell Tony you called.

After thanking him and saying your own good-bye’s you hang up. Halfway through your conversation it hit you that you were talking to Matt, his cousin. You knew Tony had a brother but he had told you that he was away at university so that couldn’t be him. And his dad would never talk to you in that manner so it only left Matt. That night/morning you also came to a conclusion that maybe Matt was a good guy.

You walk back into your room and re-plug the phone again, roll onto the mattress until you knock against Craig who gives a soft grunt. You nudge him again until he tells you to go away. Pout and bring your lower lip up feeling silly and knowing he can’t even see you.

But that doesn’t mean he can’t hear you.

“Craaaiiiiggy Weeegy,” you call out, whining his pet name given to him by your parents.

“Jess. Shut up.”

“Craig. Don’t be a party pooper. Get up, it’s late.”

“What? There’s no party here. It’s not late. Go to sleep.”

“But…I can’t. Come on Craiggy, please?” you beg him, pushing his shoulder lightly.

“No. I’m sleeping. Go bug Jamey or Rory,” he tells you and you can already hear him drifting back to sleepy land.

“Nooo. You can’t, just for a little while ok?” You shove him hard, forcing him to wake up again.

He gives you a weary look as he finally pulls himself up and rests his body weight against the wall behind him.

“What do you want?”

“Just to not be bored and alone. Will you miss me Craig?” you ask, batting your long eyelashes at him but stop when it starts to become tiresome.

He stares back at you, either not amused by your antics or still angry that you woke him up at 5:35 in the morning on a Saturday. Yeah, that could be it.

“Sure, as much as I’ll miss dead weight.”

You put your hand to your heart and whisper like a broken lover, “That hurt, right there…