Someone please tell me which FOB song the title is from ( I have it stuck in my head and I can't remember)
"Pete calm down, what's wrong?" The all too soothing voice of Aven broke my thoughts, automatically soothing my over active nerves.
"They took everything from me, my wife or girlfriend, Bronx..."
"Bronx? Or?" The younger girl had a look of pure confusion spread across her face, although her eyes gave it away that she knew exactly what was going on
"My son, a fucking toddler!" I raised my voice, hands gripping the sheets with a white knuckle grip.
"Shh, stay calm okay?" It was weird, whenever Aven would tell me something, or be near me; everything felt normal, right. Almost like I had known her longer than I think.
"Brendon! Where is the girl?!"Yaria I think her name is, screamed to the poor British-Beckett-Bitch
"I don't know!" Oh shit B, bad move....bad bad move.
The both of us cringed at the slapping sound of skin against skin; otherwise known as a slap to the face (geez people get your heads out of the gutter)
"Miss Aven, you need to leave now before Yaria comes." the maid warned, wait was she here this full time?
"Yes thank you Señorita." Aven stood to leave, but first walked over to me; cupped my face and kissed me. Yes /kissed/; it felt, wow.
"Be safe okay?" she whispered before leaving the room.
Damn did I love her?
Our Dear Old Friend (hehe is he really a friend of ours, SURE!) Ryan
/I was back there again, my house with my dad, he was as usual totally wasted, and screaming at me for another drink.
"R- whatever the fuck your name is boy, get me another drink!" He slurred, obvious what he had been doing for the last 2 hours.
"One minute." I called out, making my way to the door; only to have it opened and slammed into my face.
"ONE MINUTE?! WHAT THE HELL IS WROG WITH YOU, MAKE ME A FUCKING DRINK!" My father grabbed a handful of my hair, dragging me behind him towards the kitchen where he kept his whiskey, vodka, and anything else he decided he needed.
"Now.Make.Me.My.Fucking.DRINK!" I felt the slam of a hand into my stomach, causing me to double over in pain.
"Gunna cry now you fucking pansy? Nails for breakfast, Tacks for Snacks; toughen up." Leaving, with one last kick to my body, leaving me in my pain./
Sorry if it's short, I need to get to sleep (yet another Exam tommmorow) but somebody should think of a ship name for Pete and Aven (seriously, I will give you a cookie, well virtual)....anyone get the Panic! Referance?