Celerity: Chapter 1 - Fallen
Author: Malachite
Disclaimer: BTR is not mine. This story is.
Carlos breathed heavily, clenching his fists tightly. His closely trimmed fingernails dug into his palms, denting the paler skin. It hurt. His heart hurt. It ached. It was killing him. This wasn't like LA, where he could leave all this behind. When he was in California, he wasn't weekly reminded that he…wasn't right. He could forget about all this crap and just have fun with his buds. He wasn't judged. He wasn't shunned. He felt accepted…loved even.
But here, people didn't always laugh at his antics. They didn't call his pranks "cute" or his dangerous stunts "adorable". He had liked being adored.
Now here he was, hiding in the restroom of the church. He'd been keeping track of the number of anti-gay things said from the pulpit at mass. He'd been up to seven and holding on, but the eighth time was a real killer. He slowly pulled out the cheap plastic ballpoint pen from his dress shirt pocket, twirling it slowly between the fingers of his right hand as he stared at the smooth vein-crossed skin of his left wrist. If Logan were here, he'd plead with him to get help. Kendall would call him stupid and probably wrestle him to the ground to stop him. James would probably wrap an arm around his shoulders and talk him out of it…or punch him.
But none of his band mates were here. He was all alone in the restroom stall, sitting on the toilet seat cover. He tilted his wrist from side to side, nervously tapping the pen against his leg. He couldn't believe what he was considering doing. It was stupid. It wouldn't solve anything. It would hurt. But still. He squeezed his eyes shut, hating how he felt. He hated how they all hated a part of him. He hated that he hated a part of himself.
He swallowed hard, unclenching his fist and slowly reaching into his pocket to slide out his cell phone. The pen slid to the ground, clacking hollowly on the tile as he wiped his hands on his crisp white dress shirt. It was probably wrong to be texting from the church bathroom, but it was probably more wrong to cut himself open and bleed all over in there. He tried to stop his hands from shaking too much as he texted a single word to three phone numbers: HELP.
Author's Note: Yes, it's short, but I'm going to try write something in chapters for once. I'm on Chapter 5 now, and some Reviews and feedback would really help. Thanks!