One shot song fic about Jounouchi: I own nothing!

Song "Sic transit Gloria…the glory fades" by Brand New

I've been…Keeping up for my fathers absences at work, He's been to drunk to do much more then scream and vomit, sometimes stumbling to the bed room, to hit me to let me know what I am and were my place is…The price for the apartment paid, Medical, electric, water…all paid, at the price of my body…

Keep the noise low,
She doesn't wanna blow it,
Shaking head to toe
while your left hand does the "show me around"
Quickens your heartbeat,
It beats me straight into the ground.

Sometimes, it's at a hotel, a shabby, shitty place were names aren't put down and the person at the door knows exactly what your up to. But they never let on, they give you a smile with there rotted teeth and half crossed eyes and tall you to have a 'good night.' As if one ever existed... Sometimes it's at the persons house, rarely, they think you might be working for the cops, but when they don't care it's the house and its better but not by much, The houses are apartments erected from spoiled earth, placed in the shameful backstreets of the richer and nicer homes… It doesn't matter were does it?

You don't recover from a night like this.
A victim, still lying in bed, completely motionless.
A hand moves in the dark to a zipper.
Hear a boy bracing tight against sheets
barely whisper, "This is so messed up."

It's always terrifying you'd think it would get better…It's worse when you think you love this person. The person on top of you just there too… 'Aren't you supposed to hate me money bags' I hate when he smiles when we're like this, it's worse then a fight, a punch in the face, I love him why does he do it to me? 'I bet you hate this' and then we get going


Upon arrival the guests had all stared.
Dripping wet and clearly depressed,
he'd headed straight for the stairs.
No longer cool, but a boy in a stitch,
unprepared for a life full of lies and failing relationships.

(Up the stairs: the station where
the act becomes the art of growing up.)

He's the type that will bring you to his house, because he knows even if you were with the cops, they could never bust him. He's always so danm smug…Lets me walk right in and all the maids want to know what a rich guy wants with a dirty half American kid like me anyway…It's so embarrassing…


He keeps his hands low.
He doesn't wanna blow it.
He's wet from head to toe and
his eyes give her the up and the down.
His stomach turns and he thinks of throwing up.
But the body on the bed beckons forward
and he starts growing up.

It's funny how a rich guy can be late for a fuck appointment in his own house I end up waiting for him, never more then fifteen minutes but still He's late. And it makes me feel all the more aware that I'm just a fuck not a lover, more like a toy then a person, it makes me feel sick, maybe I could do something stupid in his big house, in this big room…And then he walks in always right before I can...


The fever, the focus
the reasons that I had to believe you weren't too hard to sell.
Die young and save yourself.
The tickle, the taste of...
It used to be the reason I breathed, but now it's choking me up.
Die young and save yourself.

God why do I put up with this? People don't sell there bodies, people sell there pet, people sell there things…I just want to die, just to give up already. At first it didn't seem like it mattered at all but now I guess I was wrong I can't put up with one more person… No other person should ever have to put up with something like this…

She hits the lights.
This doesn't seem quite fair.
Despite everything he learned from his friends,
he doesn't feel so prepared.
She's breathing quiet and smooth.
He's gasping for air.
"This is the first and last time," he says.
She fakes a smile and presses her hips into his.
He keeps his hands pinned down at his sides.
He's holding back from telling her
exactly what it really feels like.

I love him, and he wouldn't care, my body is his toy and that's how it will always be, because I'm not a real person I'm not even all here… He thinks I'm great on the quit side of things…when he's fucking me it's funny to see me squirm and I hate it… Would he be smiling if I told him it feels like what my fathers done to me? 'God this is…' and I'm almost ready to cry…


He is the lamb, she is the slaughter.
She's moving way too fast and all he wanted was to hold her.
Nothing that he tells her's really having an effect.
He whispers that he loves her,
but she's probably only looking for...

'God…I...Seto…I love you' I wish he would stop and put his arms around me just kiss my face and say that he loves me too but all that passes his lips is a moan that sounds something like a 'shut up mutt' and it just brings me back to the fact that I'm fucking alone…

(Up the stairs: the station where
the act becomes the art of growing up.)

So much more than he could ever give
A life free of lies and a meaningful relationship.
He keeps his hands pinned down at his sides.
He waits for it to end
and for the aching in his guts to subside.

Please don't let m know that this doesn't mean a thing…I'm trying not to move away from his body…I just can't wait until I'm out of here I need to…just get out I need real air, a cigarette…I gun to shoot myself…

The fever, the focus.
The reasons that I had to believe you weren't too hard to sell.
Die young and save yourself.
The tickle, the taste of...
It used to be the reason I breathed, but now it's choking me up.
Die young and save yourself.

(Up the stairs: the station where
the act becomes the art of growing up.)

Please don't let me get sick I just have to finish here and…It's not finishing danmit! It's sex! It's not a job…he loves me he loves me he loves me! Yeah, right…

The fever, the focus.
The reasons that I had to believe you weren't too hard to sell.
Die young and save yourself.
The tickle, the taste of...
It used to be the reason I breathed, but now it's choking me up.
Die young and save yourself.

I'm crying like a fucking girl under Seto's body and he stops…He pulls out and then he wipes away a tear with one of his thumbs, and in my mind I'm thinking…' This could be it! He's going to tell me he cares. Everything will be ok.' His blue eyes look down on me with some sort o understanding and I can feel his sort words coming; a half smile is on his face and he opens his mouth god this is it 'just get out Jounouchi..' Maybe I don't need a gun… I glance a t the clock…11:46… last train pulling in is at 12…I really don't need a gun…

Yea I'm a character killing Bitch I was feeling depressed so I took it out on someone else

You should read and Review to make me feel better before I kill any one else