Yo.

I haven't uploaded anything for a while (obviously, for those few who have me on alert: sorry mostly to you) so I figured I'd upload this short piece. It's not much, and it's my first oneshot written with my own characters, so hold off on the flames. Be gentle. I will send you a smile for it.

Thanks, guys. Enjoy reading.


-Soul Mate-

The crowd's energy is palpable: a sizzling, electric vibe crackles off the swarm of people in a furious wave. Sweat pours from Nate's face, slicking his dark hair to his forehead and dripping in his eyes. Relentless, uncaring, out-of-control, he screams into the mic, grinning manically out at their wild, shining eyes. "My heart of stone! Your words are poison!"

James roars somewhere behind him, guitar screaming, twisting and turning in a frenzy of ecstasy.

"You can't touch me anymore!"

Nate grips the mic stand, hands grappling and white-knuckled. His knees buckle and he drops to the ground, spilling fury from his mouth to the mic. He bares his teeth and listens to the hate anthem that swells inside of him claw its way up his throat and writhe past his tongue.

[I hope you're listening, Morphine, you bitch]

He feels himself get tangled up in the music and hears the crowd scream louder, wilder: becoming animalistic.

The beat quickens; James's riffs run together as a cacophony of sound, senseless and powerful. On his hands and knees, Nate peers out at the few pale faces illuminated by the stage lights and he leers at them; soaking, bathing in their passion. They scream and cry and claw at their faces; and their dark makeup runs in rivers over their pearly cheeks from their blank black eyes: they are the sheep and he is their shepherd. He pumps a closed fist into the air and they mirror him, twitching and squirming in time with the sounds of the band behind him, frenzied as maggots on rotting flesh.

"Scalded! Ugly! Mutant seed!" he laughs, reaching for them with a hand that curls into a talon. "I'm a habit! A compulsion! You don't need me!"

A hand slithers from the crowd to entwine with his and he feels a stranger's sweat trickle down his arm. Gripping tight, he drags his captive forward so she's pressed against the stage, inches from him.

"Why?" he screams in her face. Her eyes are bright and alert; ireful, choleric fire burns within them. Her nostrils are flared and beneath them her pretty mouth is parted ever so slightly as she expels excited breath.

"Hate me!" she bellows back and the rest of the crowd is a moment behind her. Nate's eyes lock with hers and he holds her hand to his chest so that she may feel the wretched beating of his tortured heart. She grins wolfishly and the fury in her eyes flickers. Something moves inside of Nate as he sees the thick scars on her arms and the tears in her eyes.

[I understand. I feel you]

"Please…let me drift away…" he whispers melodically and the song ends in a thunderous crash of bass and drums and screaming from the band behind him. Still he holds her close to him, lifting his other hand to caress her face. Others claw at his clothes, his hair, but his eyes stay on hers and it feels as though they are one being.

[We move together as one I can't breathe]

Images blunder, out-of-order and blurred with nonsensicalness, through his mind: his girl naked and tangled with another; a razor tacky with old, black blood; torn flesh and bruises hidden beneath a black band t-shirt; a fist throwing punches at a swollen screaming face.

[Can you hear my pain?]

In his mind, he sees the girl before him bleeding and bruised, leaning on a shuddering door to hold it closed. He sees a hand snake its way through and grip her hair, slamming her skull on the doorframe, dragging her screaming into the light. He sees the tendons of the man's arm standing out on his sweaty skin and hears her screaming when he raises his fists.

[I hear yours]

She watches the confused terror in his eyes drain away and he sees the fury in hers become subdued. Together they heal, Nate and this stranger, this stranger and Nate.

"My name is Nate," he breathes and feels an insatiable urge to kiss her. But there is something tortured, too phrenetic behind those eyes for him to do so, so he contents himself by pressing her captured hand to his bleeding lips. "Please…"

"Lucy," she whispers. "I can't…"

Someone is wrenching her back, pulling her away from him and he holds on with grim determination, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and lifting her feet inches from the ground. "Don't leave me," he begs.

"You don't know me," she laughs fitfully and a tear runs down her face.

"I do," he promises and the pain in his voice is real. "I do."

[We've known each other since the dawn of time itself]

A disembodied hand tangles in a snarl of her dark hair and pulls her backward and she cries out. "No!"

Nate drops his arm from her shoulders but he keeps their fingers locked until he can kiss her hand once more.

"I'll find you," he vows. "I'll come for you."

The fire in her eyes dulls and something new, like hope, shines through. But before she can reply, she is dragged back and swallowed by the screeching crowd and the noise seeps back into focus, smothering Nate as he wrenches away from more clutching hands.

"I'll find you, my girl," he calls into the mic. He raises his arms into the air, saluting the crowd.

"Good night and fuck you!" he roars. "Thank you!"

He puts them at his back as the lights go down, pushing past the stage crew.

"Man, what was that?" James yells across the stage, tossing his guitar down. "Who the fuck was she?"

[Soul mate witch my life my love I'll find you]

"No one."

[She's EVERYTHING EVERYONE]

He leaves them in their cloud of confusion, with her heartbeat in his ears.

He will follow that sound, until she rests in his arms.

[I'm coming]

(I'm waiting)

-e.n.d-