Disclaimer: I don't own anything to do with the OC
All my life I've been labeled as "the bad guy". No one takes the time to get to know me. They all just assume the worst. I admit that I have done some pretty shitty things in the past but honestly, who hasn't?
I've had no guidance. My parents were screw ups who already had too much to deal with, without adding an angst ridden teenager to the list. I moved out and bought my own place when I was 16. I guess you could say I fell in with the wrong crowd of people, but they were who I felt the most at home with. They didn't judge you on what kind of a home life you came from. No one gave a shit about how much money you had or how big a house you lived in. They didn't judge me and so I continued to hang out with them. To me, this was my family. Every day we could just hang out in my apartment, smoke some pot, and forget about how fucked up our lives were.
When Johnny Harper came to town I hated him. He idolized me and my friends. Him and his little friend Chile would follow us around constantly, begging us to teach them how to surf. Eventually me and my friends gave in just to get them to leave us alone. I used to be the best surfer on the beach. Everyone knew it. I was a fucking God to these people. And then Johnny got better. The little fucker took the one thing I was good at and got better then me. Of course he took every opportunity to shove it in my face. I couldn't stand him. Every time he talked to me I tried not to let my hatred show but it was so close to the surface I could practically feel it bubbling, ready to overflow.
Even though I hated him I didn't want him to die. At all. I had a connection with him. Always would. Even though I hated it, I had a sense of pride at seeing that I was the one that taught him how to surf. The once best surfer on the beach knew how to surf because of me. Of course I'd rather be considered the best. Who wouldn't? But if I couldn't be the best then I could settle for second. And to make it even better, without my help the best surfer on the beach wouldn't even know how to recognize a good wave.
And that Marissa chick. She was just a way to get even with Harper. I knew that he liked her. Loved her even. And I know it's horrible to even try and get revenge on the dead but I had to do it. He took away the one decent thing in my life and for that I would get what he never had the chance to. I had no feelings for her. Not even attraction. She wasn't my type. And of course, once again everyone thought the worst of me. They all assume I'm with her for the sex. And yes, we did have sex but it was only a way for me to get back at Harper. I didn't even enjoy it that much. When her mom came in and told me that her daughter was too good for me, was only with me to make her mad, just another experiment, I had half the mind to tell her right then and there that she was just a way for me to get my long awaited revenge. But I didn't. And so I had to continue being with her.
The reason I didn't just break it off after the first time we fucked is simple. Johnny hurt me for years. And now I would hurt his memory for years by sleeping with the girl of his dreams. I wasn't going to stay with her for 5 years of course. That would be a major waste of my time. But I would stay with her just a little bit longer. And then I'd tell her I wanted out of it. Ha, sleep with, and then break the heart of the girl Harper wanted so bad but could never have. I hoped that he could see what I was doing from wherever he was. I wasn't exactly what you would call a religious guy but I had my beliefs. And I believed that I was hurting the memory of Johnny Harper by doing this. Which is exactly what I wanted.
Revenge is sweet. But even sweeter when the person can't get you back.
Review! And revenge is bad! I just wanted to try and get inside Volchok's head. Lol. Not very good I know, but I felt like writing and there aren't many stories with Volchok's point of view so here's one. I hope you all like it!