A/N;; Boyce Avenue to the rescue! And you all wonder why I obsess over then! I honestly sat here, staring at the wall, on the phone with my darling, Rea, and her iTunes was on shuffle… When Boyce Avenue came on.
I love them oh-so-so-so much!
Making Fiends © Amy Winfrey
Wonderwall © Oasis
Saerab © Me
WARNINGS?: Mentions of drug use, attempted suicide, and swears? But I'm sadly proud of myself to use the word "douchebag" in this.
"And all the roads we have to walk are winding.
And all the lights that lead us there are blinding."
-"Wonderwall" performed by Boyce Avenue
"So your father made you come back here?" Ten minutes later, with Maggie lighting up a cigarette, and them locking themselves in the handicap stall, Charlotte had explained why she had returned to Clamburg on her father's will.
"Yeah, and the sad thing is, he only came here for the money and Grandma's business, not for her own funeral."
"No offense, but your dad sounds like a douchebag." Charlotte shrugged her shoulders, inhaling some of the smoke that filled the air as Maggie breathed in another drag. "Much like my own."
"Maybe our dad's should meet each other." They both chuckled, and Maggie's face formed an annoyed look.
"So, you're the one who's been stalking me?"
"Wha- What?"
"You aren't very quiet when you spy," she pointed at her with the cancer-stick. "Nor do you make it less obvious following me." Charlotte flushed and Maggie smiled, switching the cigarette to her other hand to untie the band around her right arm. Charlotte watched as Maggie's hard glare followed up to her.
"Go ahead."
"What?" Charlotte blinked.
"Say it. We all know the school makes such a good effort to keep it a secret."
"Why?" Maggie's body clammed up as she shifted her gaze to the floor. How does one answer that? Do you lie and give the entire, Well, you try it once, you get hooked, and then you can't get off it, or does she tell the truth?
"Why what?" Might as well make her specify.
"Why are you in that cult? Why are you doing drugs? Why…?"
Oh shit.
No one needed to find out about KOS. No one could find out about KOS. If anyone found out, they were all in trouble.
"You- You really are a st- sta- stalker." Charlotte giggled involuntarily, and Maggie curled up into a ball again. "Go away."
"Not until I get some answers."
"I swear if you tell anyone about the fucking club, I know people- I… I know they would kill for me, and I'm not afraid to send them after you, Charlotte Rose."
"Why'd they kill that girl?"
"She wanted to die."
"Why did you get heroin from that one guy? Why did that Saeran kid help suffocate you?"
"You're getting into other people's fucking business," Maggie hissed, tossing the cigarette in the toilet. "Look, did you ever think people wanted to die? That we all wanted some way to escape? Not everyone is the happy, peppy, 'OH WHAT A BEAUTIFUL goddamn WORLD!' like you are!" She slips out of her falsetto.
"Mag-."
"Look me in the eye, and promise me you won't tell anyone."
"I wor-."
"Promise me."
"I- I promise."
"If anyone of us gets busted, I'll hunt you down." Maggie stands up and walks out, slamming the stall door as she leaves. Charlotte shakes her head, and sits there.
But what if I want to get you help?
"Maggie." Slamming her locker door shut, she turns around to see the brown haired boy that she secretly liked as a kid. She tucked the loose piece of paper into a book, and tried to glare.
"Mar- Marvin?" She pushed back her almost brown-black hair, and stared for a few minutes.
"Look, I just wanted to make sure you were ok-."
"What the fuck?" she snapped. "Excuse me, who told you?"
"Mal said something-."
"Oh, so Malachi knows now? Fucking Charlotte! I knew him talking to her was a bad idea!" Stomping off, Marvin stood there in shock.
...
...
Charlotte?
"Malachi!" Sitting on top of the jungle gym, Mort and Mal's eyes met in shock. Marvin's normal monotone, cautious voice was laced with anger and dripping with venomous fury.
"Whaddya do, Mal?" Mort asked as Marvin approached.
"Why the hell didn't you tell me Charlotte was back?"
"Excuse me?" Mal said, trying to cover up his nervousness with fake shock. "Charlotte's back?"
"Says Magg-."
"Oh, that explains a lot. The tweaker must be seeing things again."
"She told me you two talk."
"I talk to tiny Calista in history class, not Charlotte. Then again, the blonde hair could've thrown anyone off."
"Why do I get the feeling you're lying?"
'Cause he is? Mort bitterly thought, but not wanting to get in the middle of this, or pick sides, he sat there quietly. "I'm not, Marvin. You know all the different kinds of things dear Margret's on."
"She also acussed me of knowing something…"
"Paranoia. Schizophrenia. Hallucinating," Mal listed off, acting as if this wasn't new. "The girl's about to O.D. if you ask me."
"Mal be nice." The two turned to Mort. "Look, let's just get some quick practice in for tonight, okay?"
"I guess," the brunet and redhead chimed and they walked over to Mort's house.
"What is it, Margret?" The girl shifted uncomfortably, and looked up.
"I was invited to Marion's party."
"I thought you two no longer talked."
"The new girl… Charlotte… She did." The leader's eyebrows raised.
"The blonde?"
"How'dya…"
"I think she's been stalking you," he said, and Maggie let out a groan.
"Tell me about it." The leader's eyes narrowed.
"Does she know?"
Maggie paused. "No."
"Maybe it be good for you to enjoy a night to yourself with other people."
"Are we a suicide prevention club, now?"
"It's my job to make sure people are set in stone on how they want to die. I don't want to kill them when they aren't sure they want to die. That's why you and Saeran are still alive."
"Irish bastard's not even devoted."
"No, but he's secretive, so he's worth keeping around." The man stood up. "And Maggie?"
"Yes?"
"If this Charlotte girl finds out anything, bring her here after school." Maggie gulped and nodded. She shook her head, gathered her things, and began to walk. Saeran was standing outside, a cigarette in one hand, and his phone in the other.
"Ya vile harpy! I'll be home when I want!" She watched him flip his phone close, and his eyes settle on her. "See ya later, ya bitch."
She didn't bark anything in reply this time.
"You did WHAT?" Charlotte smiled, her heart felt light, her mind clear. "Charlotte, please tell me you're joking!"
"Nope. I invited Maggie." She did a 360, and looked at Vendetta (Viktoriya, she mentally corrects herself), a questioning look on her face. "I don't know. Is this brown sundress really my shade of br-."
"Fuck the sundress! You invited Maggie!" Viktoriya gave an overdramatic moan, and Charlotte placed her hands on her hips.
"I thought it be nice."
"Until she catches someone talking shit!" Vendetta pause. "And I agree, that brown doesn't look good on you. Here, put this on." Tossing her a black, pink, white, and blue plaid shirt with a white cami, Charlotte changed quickly. "Better. Jean skirt, some heels, and you're set!"
"Viktoriya," Charlotte pleads. "Just try to be nice? The nicer you are the nicer she is." Viktoriya pouts, and her arms are crossed across her chest. She taps her foot, and Charlotte takes note at how pretty her extremely-long white, pink, and brown sundress-shirt is with the pair of brown leggings and pink hightops are.
"Fine. I'll try." Charlotte threw herself onto the Bulgarian with a killer hug.
"OH! THANK YOU! THANK YOU! THANK YOOOOOU!" Charlotte squealed, and Viktoriya sighed.
"Stupid girl," she mumbled, and smiled a bit herself. "Now come on, we'll be late!"
See? Maggie just needs love and understanding kindness and she won't rip your eyes out.
Mort, you pansy! BE A MAN AND EXPRESS YOUR OPION!
Vendetta… You preppy little OOC-psychopath…
Marvin, you oblivious asshole!
Malachi… You jackass.
These characters have been molded beyond recognition. It's scary. It really, honest to God is.
-Dar
