DISCLAIMER: I don't own IS, obviously. Otherwise why the hell would I be writing fanfics? I could make it into my own episode if I wanted to, dammit! shakes fist alright… getting carried away (: You get the point. R&R!
"Jude, you are a poison," The ex-boybander seethed, his searing eyes piercing my own, "Stay as far away from me as possible."
Like most insults in fights do, this one took a moment to sink in. At first it stung, making the adrenaline running through my system pump a little harder at the thought of it. What was I supposed to say to that? But as the seconds ticked by and my mouth felt like it was glued shut, unable to formulate and spit out a biting response, I toyed with the idea, learned slowly to like it. I imagined myself running through his veins, digging dip under his skin, fantasized about him never separating from me. I realized that to some people, me giving this idea the slightest bit of thought would be considered deranged, psychopathic, demented.
"That's the thing about poisons, Quincy," I smiled, ignoring the tears welling up in my eyes, "They don't just go away."
Turning around, I walked back down the alley, trying not to smile at the look I knew he was giving my backside. If he thought I was a poison to deal with up this point… Well, he'd see how much of a poison I could be now. I was so sick of his shit. He was a contradiction to himself and that smarmy little bastard knew it. It was all "I'm an ex-Boyz Attack member, why don't you dote on my every whim?" Then once you didn't just stick around for the mediocre sex, you actually WANTED a fucking relationship, he turned all emo. No, fuck you, Quincy.
"You'll fucking see how much of a poison I can be." The breeze whisked my words away and I smiled pleasantly to myself.
This was the start of a beautiful thing.
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I should be used to it by now, but I've always hated the feeling once you wake up after crying. Your eyes still feel sticky even though the moisture is gone, and the headache you had (which I always seem to get, no matter if I cry one drop or an entire river) still pounds numbly against your skull. Groaning inwardly, I rub my eyes and throw off my covers. Stretching, a yawn bursts from my mouth and I walk lazily over to my full-length mirror. I never feel one hundred percent beautiful unless I have a guitar in my hand, so I send a dirty look at the mirror and turn around, not daring to face my reflection for too long. Pulling off my nightdress – a Disney one, since despite the whole I'm-a-badass-rockstar thing, I still love my kiddie movies – I throw it into a pile of dirty laundry across the room.
Even though Sadie has been begging me to start dressing better ever since I won Instant Star, I've still kept the ripped jeans and band shirt type of wardrobe. After all, if the public and G-Major wanted a fashion model and crap singing, they could've picked Eden. Struggling into my jeans, it isn't until I begin zipping them up and buttoning them that the force of yesterday hits me. I feel a pang echo inside my heart and heave a disgruntled sigh. You try seeking vengeance on an ex-Boyz Attack member – it isn't easy in general, and you'll probably get the feeling I have… This would be that if they knew about it, every washed up fan of Boyz Attack would like to decapitate you. Maybe I'm just freaking because it's early – I mean, I'm not going to kill him or something really creepy like that, I just want him to suffer… Just like he made me suffer. I want him to wait, just like he made me wait. I want him to… well, want. But like I was saying, I'm probably freaking because it's early, and the early stages of anything – minus being instantly famous, hence the INSTANT part of Instant Star – feels like shit.
Shaking my head to clear it, I take a deep breath and walk out of my room, nearly tripping and falling down the stairs. Sadie walks through the kitchen and begins to wander up the stairs, shooting me the usual raised-eyebrows look she gives me. I disregard this until she's nearly past me, and then I notice she's wearing an I'm-almost-anorexic-but-totally-beautiful-and-I've-got-boobs shirt with the words BOYZ ATTACK in bold font right across her tits. It has the signatures of all the members too. My heart flares, fucking sick of her little obsession.
"Nice shirt," I remark sarcastically, past her now, and I glance back with a smirk, "Very… uh, fitting, Sadie."
She stops, the milk in the cereal bowl she's carrying sloshes, and she turns back and rolls her eyes.
"That's rich coming from you," Sadie shoots back, taking one perfectly manicured nail and pointing it in my direction, "I mean, after all, you're the one in love with the star of Boyz Attack, aren't you?"
And then she's gone.
I stare at the empty space, my mouth open partly, and anger floods my system. I have half the mind to stomp back up the stairs and tell her a few things that would kill her ego to know, but instead I storm into the kitchen and hit the wall, a large BANG reverberating around the room.
"FUCK."
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AN: And that's the end of chapter one! Sorry if anybody is off-character or something isn't correct. And if it is, please let me know. This is my first fanfic EVER. (: R&R.