A small elven-looking young man sat alone in his hotel room contemplating suicide. I scoffed at the thought than ran through my mind over and over.
'Oh but what would the fan-girls think!' I thought with mock despair.
Maybe we should talk about why I'm contemplating suicide first instead of jumping straight to my inner ramblings.
I'm Michael, I play bass in a famous band and I'm severely depressed.
My girlfriend dumped me, I'm constantly in the shadow of my brother and I have no friends other than Royce . Frankie is not too keen on me, Xan is my brother, Bill hates my guts and I've never made any real attempts to get to know anyone else.
Wonderful.
I ran my hands through my hair, just frustrated and fed up with…just ALL this SHIT.
I stood up and put on my shoes and jacket.
I needed a walk. And a drink.
…
And I wouldn't say no to some nice, steamy sex but, ya know, *shrug*.
I headed out the door of the random hotel the band had chosen to stay at. It was 4:20 in the morning and they were fast asleep. But I couldn't sleep. Haven't been able to for a while now. Too jittery, too tired, too…sad and fucked up inside.
I stuffed my hands in my pockets and blew my blonde hair out of my face, scrunching my nose in a way Xander might describe as cute as my glasses slipped down.
I quickly found big, flashing neon signs that no one would read. They were the lights to the moths, the lonely drunks and the heartbroken, the partiers and the clubbers, the misfits and the nobodies.
'Jesus, I'm starting to sound like a fucking pansy.'
Or worse.
Like Xander.
A shiver ran down my spine.
I walked in, not hesitating to push open the door and inhaled the smells of loneliness and puke.
Ah.
Home.
I smiled lightly as some dude dressed in so much black that he faded into the darkness of the bar took my coat. Thankfully, I was dressed in the same amount of black so not many people noticed me or who I was. Actually I doubt they would anyways. And if they did, would they care?
I shook my head and walked towards the bar. I wasn't here to dance or chat. I was here to get piss drunk.
I sat down and ordered a big glass of vodka. If you couldn't smell, It kinda looked like I was just drinking some nice water. Nothing is as it seems though.
I was about to take a sip when a girl sat next to me. She had long dark hair, dark eyes and was staring straight at me. She wasn't even attempting to hide it. She had her head laid down on the bar and was staring right at me with a silly smile that didn't match her serious eyes. She looked sober.
"Hi Mikey." She whispered.
It was a wonder I heard her, but I did.
They think when you're famous, you get used to it and compliments don't mean anything cuz you get them so often.
It…wasn't like that for me. It's like that for Xander, for Frank, maybe even for Royce but…I was always overlooked.
I blinked at her slowly.
"Hi." Was my intelligent response.
"You're suffering."
I somehow didn't choke on my vodka.
After years, my brother, my friends, they didn't know that and this stranger looks at me once and she sees through my walls. Is it possible…that they didn't see because they didn't care?
I looked deep into her eyes and threw down some money to pay for our drinks.
"Come." I ordered gently, walking away, not bothering to see if she followed but I took her wrist as soon as she reached my side.
If this was actually someone who cared, I wouldn't let go so easily.
I dragged her up into my hotel room, glad that I didn't have to share this time. Somewhere along the short trip, my hand had slid down from her wrist to hold her soft hand. She was delicate, yet hard. I could feel her strength every time she adjusted her fingers.
I closed and locked the door behind me, taking a deep, shaky breath before I turned around to face her.
She didn't look strong. She didn't look as sure of herself as she had in the bar either.
She looked so fragile and out of place just standing there in the middle on my current room. I took this time to really look at her.
She was short.
'Fun-sized.' Frank's voice whispered in the back of my head and I had to suppress some insane laughter.
Her hair was long and shiny and she was worryingly skinny.
She had circles under her eyes and a look like a kicked puppy.
I crossed the room to stand in front of her in three long strides and wrapped my arms around her slender figure.
I can hear I go to sleep by Sia playing somewhere in the distance, probably in one of the nearby bars.
It's strangely fitting.
I put my forehead to hers and her arms snaked around me, holding me as if I could break.
Can I?
We closed their eyes and swayed to the beat.
I might not know her name.
Or where she came from.
Or what her dreams where like.
But right now, in this moment, I could swear that no place had ever felt as right as her arms did.
Mike woke up in the morning. And this time he didn't curse himself for not dying.
He woke up wrapped in the arms of his stranger.
There were tear tracks on their faces but they both smiled.
He closed his eyes again and relaxed into her.
They had talked last night. About everything and nothing. About sadness and happiness and heartbreak and love.
She kissed his forehead lightly as soon as he opened his mouth to ask.
"I'm Lucy."
A gentle smile fell on his lips. He felt utterly content lying with her.
But of course, all good things must come to an end.
He heard the swipe of the key card on the door and gritted his teeth.
Why did he give Xander a spare.
"Yo, Mikey, wak-" He froze, his mouth open in a comical shape.
He supposed this must be a strange sight.
After all, he was laying on the floor, his head in the lap of a girl he didn't know.
"Oh. I didn't know you had company." He blinked, not knowing what else to say.
Lucy gave him an empty, doll-like look, cocking her head to the side.
Michael simply smiled and closed his eyes.
The door closed softly and after a few moments, he could hear Gerard's footsteps getting farther away.
Lucy smiled down at Michael.
"Let's get ready and then eat?" she suggested.
He didn't know her.
But he knew he would follow her.
"Lead the way."
