Notes: Ok, this might be sort of confusing at first. It's co-written between me and LadyBoston (she wrote most of Mark's lines, and possibly future characters). I don't really know what to say without giving it away.. Roger's got psychological problems, NOT what he has in most of my fics though. Not what you'd find in the usual depressed!Roger fic. Even though it'll be mega-confusing at first, please give it a chance.. I think it could develop into something really interesting.
Warnings: A lot of these. Self-injury (sort of.. more like just "injury"), heavy angst, reference to past abuse, language, slash, possible trigger content. And M/R. Lots of M/R.Disclaimer: The boys aren't mine, though I'll probably throw in a few original characters later on.
I'm different. I've been different for as long as I can remember, but lately… I have a secret. There's something wrong with me. And I don't mean that I'm depressed, or angry, or crazy, or psychologically disturbed… I'm all of these things, and yet, at the same time, I'm none of them.
The noise in my head is constant. Voices… Not mine. Thoughts, so many thoughts. And the noise! The chatter, talking, arguing.
Something has happened to me. I don't know what, but I know something happened… Something a long time ago that my conscious let me forget.
//Crazy. Fucked up. Not crazy! Neurotic. Same difference!//
I cringe, trying to block it out. Even as I squeeze my eyes shut, counting in my head, trying to focus, I know it is useless. I feel a burning sensation behind my eyelids, and I dig my nails harshly into my palm.
//Don't cry. Boys don't cry. Why can't boys cry? Girls cry… I'm going to cry.//
I'm going to cry.