Okay, new part. Hope ya like it. Keep reading, please. Um. .
.some things should get cleared up in this chapter. There should be some
things coming up some people might not like, so I'll warn you when I think
it gets personal. If I offend anyone, I am very sorry. Don't sue, I don't
know where my thirty bucks are(um, if I don't upload after this, its
because Blazer killed me, 'cause it was her money too, so, RIP to me.)
Hope you like it!
CHAPTER THREE
The taste in my mouth was sour, yet sweet in the same time. Growling, I drained the glass of water in one gulp. It did nothing to the taste, only wet my throat. Well, fat help that did. I crunched the paper cup in my hand, tossing it into the waste basket. Two points. Great help that did, too.
Today was another day, those full-blown days when there was just too much to bear. I sat down next in the chair next to the bed, releasing my head to my hands, gazing out the window to the parking lot below. The motel was shabby, basically, but on one of these days, it didn't matter where I was, only as long as I could stay alone in the dark crevice that was my life.
My neck ached pain as I suspended my head in my hands. The throbbing behind my eyes only too well reminded me of how much last night's stunt had cost me. I winced at the thought. It was lucky the police hadn't caught me. How I had made it to the hotel without being caught was beyond me. How I gotten to the hotel without crashing and dying was also beyond me. I mean, please, are police so blind they can't tell somebody's intoxicated? Of course, there's that corruption thing going on. . .
I looked over to the plain brown sack, neatly tucked in a corner. The rounded bulge reminded me of what I had in there. The pain in my neck reminded me why I even bothered. I hung my eyes, then again looked out the window.
A couple argued outside, the woman waving her arms in a dizzinging display. The man yelled back, furiously motioning to nothing. Across from them, two truck drivers chatted, oblivious to the commotion a few yards away. On the other side of the trucks, a toddle tottered away from its mother, making a mad dash for freedom. Right below my window, two men were talking and laughing loudly.
Life went on all around me. Why was it I was standing still?
A sudden knock richoted off the walls.
Startled, I leaped up.
"Sir? Room Service."
Room Service. I'd ordered nothing. Confused, I walked to the door and looked through the hole. Sure enough, a man dressed in a uniform that looked like a dress waited uncomfortably for me to open the door. Shaking my head, I opened the door.
And saw the tray he held tightly in his hands.
The bag. The painkillers. The high thing I had been. If I had this, no need, no need. . .
I was drowning in this life anyway, might as well make it ceramonial. The world would blot out, would blank itself away. The pain would leave, the dragging need for the pills no longer necessary. Perfect bliss, perfect ignorance. The need to question would dim. What one thing could do, what magnitude I would bring myself to. . .
"Yes," I said, holding my hand out to take the bottles away from him. "Thank you."
CHAPTER FOUR
"I'm favoring Creed heavily," Kurt Angle told Chris Irvine. "I like them. Don't you?"
"Mmm, yeah, sure," Chris mumbled, looking past the racks of CD's to somewhere Kurt couldn't find. "Whatever."
"I asked you to help me pick out a CD for my brother," Kurt said exsaspertedly. "I didn't ask you to come and play dead for an hour. Hey, you alive?"
"I thought you said I was dead," Chris muttered, scrubbing at his face. "Yeah, I'm listening. Fine."
"You like them?"
"Sure, their music is cool, yeah, take it."
"Which song do you like the best?"
"Um. . ." Chris turned away, his eyes darting frantically. "You know, that one song, that song. . .you know. . "
"Do you even know who we're talking about?"
"No," he said helplessly.
"Buddy, are you sure you're alright?" Kurt said, worry tainting his voice. "You look awful."
"Back at you," Chris snapped. "Let's just get the CD and get out of here."
"You said you'd help me," Kurt said, feeling a bit hurt.
"I did," his friend replied, plucking a CD from the rack, handing it to Kurt. "Here. Perfect. He'll love it. Let's get out of here."
Kurt looked at the title.
"NSYNC?"
Chris didn't say anything, only took the case away, put it back randomly, and chose another one. Kurt craned his neck to see the title.
"BBmak?"
"Fine then!" Chris snarled, taking it back, throwing it on the rows of CDs. "Pick your own damn CD." He turned and started to walk away, massaging his neck as he went.
"Chris!" Kurt hurried after him. "Hey, wait! I didn't mean anything by it!"
"Yeah, whatever," Chris called back angrily.
"Hey! I have the keys!"
He didn't reply, only kept walking. Kurt slowed, watching him stride through the door and out into the business of the mall. He watched in disbelief as he disappered into the crowd. How the hell did he just blow up and walk away? There was no logic in it.
He grabbed the Creed CD and paid for it quickly, then set off for the massive parking structure. Chris would be there. Hopefully.
He entered the lot and found his car, parked in the back, shrouded by SUV's around it. He went speedily around the back of one and came to the front of the space where his car was parked.
Chris was not there.
I do not own BBmak or NSYNC. I don't like NSYNC. Kay? Are we clear? This fic is going kinnda a fast, so I'll try to slow it down. Thanx.
Hope you like it!
CHAPTER THREE
The taste in my mouth was sour, yet sweet in the same time. Growling, I drained the glass of water in one gulp. It did nothing to the taste, only wet my throat. Well, fat help that did. I crunched the paper cup in my hand, tossing it into the waste basket. Two points. Great help that did, too.
Today was another day, those full-blown days when there was just too much to bear. I sat down next in the chair next to the bed, releasing my head to my hands, gazing out the window to the parking lot below. The motel was shabby, basically, but on one of these days, it didn't matter where I was, only as long as I could stay alone in the dark crevice that was my life.
My neck ached pain as I suspended my head in my hands. The throbbing behind my eyes only too well reminded me of how much last night's stunt had cost me. I winced at the thought. It was lucky the police hadn't caught me. How I had made it to the hotel without being caught was beyond me. How I gotten to the hotel without crashing and dying was also beyond me. I mean, please, are police so blind they can't tell somebody's intoxicated? Of course, there's that corruption thing going on. . .
I looked over to the plain brown sack, neatly tucked in a corner. The rounded bulge reminded me of what I had in there. The pain in my neck reminded me why I even bothered. I hung my eyes, then again looked out the window.
A couple argued outside, the woman waving her arms in a dizzinging display. The man yelled back, furiously motioning to nothing. Across from them, two truck drivers chatted, oblivious to the commotion a few yards away. On the other side of the trucks, a toddle tottered away from its mother, making a mad dash for freedom. Right below my window, two men were talking and laughing loudly.
Life went on all around me. Why was it I was standing still?
A sudden knock richoted off the walls.
Startled, I leaped up.
"Sir? Room Service."
Room Service. I'd ordered nothing. Confused, I walked to the door and looked through the hole. Sure enough, a man dressed in a uniform that looked like a dress waited uncomfortably for me to open the door. Shaking my head, I opened the door.
And saw the tray he held tightly in his hands.
The bag. The painkillers. The high thing I had been. If I had this, no need, no need. . .
I was drowning in this life anyway, might as well make it ceramonial. The world would blot out, would blank itself away. The pain would leave, the dragging need for the pills no longer necessary. Perfect bliss, perfect ignorance. The need to question would dim. What one thing could do, what magnitude I would bring myself to. . .
"Yes," I said, holding my hand out to take the bottles away from him. "Thank you."
CHAPTER FOUR
"I'm favoring Creed heavily," Kurt Angle told Chris Irvine. "I like them. Don't you?"
"Mmm, yeah, sure," Chris mumbled, looking past the racks of CD's to somewhere Kurt couldn't find. "Whatever."
"I asked you to help me pick out a CD for my brother," Kurt said exsaspertedly. "I didn't ask you to come and play dead for an hour. Hey, you alive?"
"I thought you said I was dead," Chris muttered, scrubbing at his face. "Yeah, I'm listening. Fine."
"You like them?"
"Sure, their music is cool, yeah, take it."
"Which song do you like the best?"
"Um. . ." Chris turned away, his eyes darting frantically. "You know, that one song, that song. . .you know. . "
"Do you even know who we're talking about?"
"No," he said helplessly.
"Buddy, are you sure you're alright?" Kurt said, worry tainting his voice. "You look awful."
"Back at you," Chris snapped. "Let's just get the CD and get out of here."
"You said you'd help me," Kurt said, feeling a bit hurt.
"I did," his friend replied, plucking a CD from the rack, handing it to Kurt. "Here. Perfect. He'll love it. Let's get out of here."
Kurt looked at the title.
"NSYNC?"
Chris didn't say anything, only took the case away, put it back randomly, and chose another one. Kurt craned his neck to see the title.
"BBmak?"
"Fine then!" Chris snarled, taking it back, throwing it on the rows of CDs. "Pick your own damn CD." He turned and started to walk away, massaging his neck as he went.
"Chris!" Kurt hurried after him. "Hey, wait! I didn't mean anything by it!"
"Yeah, whatever," Chris called back angrily.
"Hey! I have the keys!"
He didn't reply, only kept walking. Kurt slowed, watching him stride through the door and out into the business of the mall. He watched in disbelief as he disappered into the crowd. How the hell did he just blow up and walk away? There was no logic in it.
He grabbed the Creed CD and paid for it quickly, then set off for the massive parking structure. Chris would be there. Hopefully.
He entered the lot and found his car, parked in the back, shrouded by SUV's around it. He went speedily around the back of one and came to the front of the space where his car was parked.
Chris was not there.
I do not own BBmak or NSYNC. I don't like NSYNC. Kay? Are we clear? This fic is going kinnda a fast, so I'll try to slow it down. Thanx.