FicWad

I never really realized how comfortable my own sofa could be. The way the light is devoid around the small, filthy room should make this a terrible place to spend my days. But, I suppose if you spend enough time in one place, it eventually begins to convince your insides that it's home. I could feel the weight of the world shifting, spinning under my feet, while I remained at a stand still on this fluffy cushion. Another thing I realized, and marvel at, is the fact that my few bandmates left all have side-projects. I mean, fuck, maybe this band was the true side-project and I was just the lunatic they would give some of their spare time to. Like visiting their uncle at the city prison. Remember, visiting hours are only nine to eleven and your shorts can't be too short. I sleep far past eleven, anway. I brought the joint to my cracked lips and took a long sigh, letting the right combination of Xanax and weed soothe me all over. The smoke curled above my head like one of those little rain-clouds that follow the protagonist everywhere he goes on cartoons. I had promised her I'd stop, but really, when it's this tempting and she's out working, it's hard to NOT blaze all day. And it's like those pills only solve my anxiety at the moment, in the moment. Not the long-term effect any of us were hoping for. While I awaited the raindrops to start refreshing my face from the drugged puff, I took a handful of the chips I'd been munching on and tossed them into my mouth. The salty flavor burning my ever chapped lips and the crunches tasteless. The television was flickered on, dancing colors and the famous celebrities showing off their billion dollar mansions. Small cackles and giggles rose in my throat. I took another deep sigh, tasting the last of the puffy smoke on my tongue. My legs moved, sending a slight shock to my body. I walked over to the nearby window, prying it open to air out the drugged smoke. The only time I'd gone out all week was to have a nice cup of jo. People watching is even worse for me than being cooped up here, and torturing myself with next-to-zero socialization. There was the happy elderly couple that sort of melted the romantic in me with the way they shared her favorite dessert, and spent most of the time exchanging smiles. The young group of hungover kids, probably still up from the night before, downing coffee and popping Tylenol everytime the single parent waistress would leave them with a knowing smirk. And who can forget the old man  in the corner? Couldn't have been older then sixty. The deep frown marks guaranteed this man was lonely and well aware of it. He sipped at his black coffee, everyword spoken to his waiter venom, right down to the gruff 'thanks' paired with no tip. By the way his beady blue eyes would flicker around the room, confirmed that he was doing the same as me. People watching. He frightened me more then the most disturbing horror film. It frightened me just thinking that I would end up like that. And it frightened me that we were both doing the same thing. So, I paid for my hot drink, and never went back there again. These days are definitely the least exciting I've had in a while.    

Natalie POV 

I brought the lense to my eyes, quickly taking snapshots of the stage that stood in before me; small and filled with techs setting things up. The Plastiscines were having their first American headlining show here in New York, and I was excited to be chosen to photograph the event. From hipster kids anxiously awaiting the band to the adults at the bar just sitting back, enjoying the music; shows were always fun to photograph. A smile crossed my lips as I briefly surveyed what I had taken, before heading back to bar. God, I love my job. 
"Natalie!" My head snapped up at my name. Gabe sat there at the bar, a group of girls that couldn't be older then sixteen huddled around him.
"Yo guys, this is my friend Natalie," Gabe informed, a little smile forming.  
"I could've sworn this was a Cobra show," I joked, waltzing over to where he scribbled signatures on cds and merchandise. The young girls glared at me, but their expressions instantly softened when they noticed the press-pass and camera dangling from my neck. 
"You guys wanna be in a picture? These are going on the Plastiscines' site," I chuckled out the question, most likely reading their minds. They stared at me like the band I mentioned was some foreign languange. 
"Who," one of them asked. She was decked in cobra merch from head to toe. So bright and neon it hurt my eyes just looking. Gabe bit his lip, trying not to laugh at either the girl's obnoxious question or my obviously rage-written expression. I quickly put my camera to my eyes, making sure the girls didn't see them roll in annoyance.  
"On the count of three," I called, not bothering to answer the girl's question. Gabe posed like the ham he is, his arms out and his knees bent, surprisingly reaching the height of the girls. I snapped the picture, quickly pulling the camera from my face. 
"Let me see!" 
"Did it come out?"
"Am I blinking?" They were squealing and asking all at the same time, causing my head to ache in the slightest way possible.   
"Sorry guys, guess you'll have to check the band's site tomarrow." I shrugged as innocent as I could, a little smile poking at the corners of my mouth. "The show is gonna start prettyy soon, too. I'd head over to the pit right now if I were you," I added. The girls rolled their eyes, blatantly not paying much attention to me. 
"See you after the show, Gabey baby," one of them squeaked, finally leading the rest of them toward the group of anxious kids. When they were gone from ear distance, Gabe let out a laugh. 
"Sorry about that. Guess I forgot these kids actually follow my Twitter updates. How've ya been, Nat? Long time no see." He gave me a slight embarassed grin, and I couldn't help the smile that tugged out of me. The first time I'd met Gabe had actually been at this bar. Say Anything were playing a show and he had been at the bar, not knowing a band was playing that night. We had gotten to talking. He had even helped Max and I out when we moved to New York. Defintely a good friend. My thoughts analyzed the question for a moment. My smile faltered at the thought of Max, where he was home probably getting in a good blaze.  
"Not too well. Max hasn't exactly been his greatest for the past week or two." I guessed my worry spilled through me like the light at the end of a very fake smile-induced tunnel. Gabe's brow creased as he quietly took a small sip of his drink, processing the information. 
"That sucks. I heard he wasn't feeling well the last Say Anything tour," he mused. "How're you holding up?" His question sent slight shock through me. Wowzers. That was something nobody had asked.
"I'm hanging in. It just bums me out seeing him this way," I shrugged, trying not to sound like I was pitying myself. Max hadn't left the house in forever, and not even his bandmates came to check up on him.
"He'll pull through. I mean, it's happend before, right?" A small smile toyed on his lips at the last word. I nodded, reluctantly smiling back. 
"So what are you doing here," I asked, trying to change the subject to something not so mood-killing. 
"I actually really like this band. Chicks who know how to do punk rock right is always worth checking out," he shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. I nodded, not denying the fact that they were a talented band. "And you're here to take pretty pictures, right?" He was only half-serious by the way he smiled. 
"No, I just take random pictures of little girls and lug around a camera every night just for the hell of it," I shot back, my tone nothing less then sarcastic. He laughed, rolling his eyes in a playful mannor. 
"Come on, Nat, pictures are for people with bad memory." He said that line everytime he caught me at 'work'. Or anywhere I had a camera in my hands, really. And it never failed to get the same reaction out of me. I simply rolled my eyes, my smile never once wiping away.  It was all I could do, really. I have no valid argument to that, and he knows it. 
"Whatever, Saporta. I gotta job to do, so just sit back and enjoy French chicks shred your face off." I messed up his frizzy, dark hair, causing a small chuckle out of him. 
"Tell Max I said get well," he called back. I gave a thumbs up that I wasn't one hundred percent sure he saw, and glided my way back to side-stage. The lights started to dim, and the small crowd made a surprisingly deafening roar. Let the show begin.

Slade POV 

I took Carolyn's hand as we crossed the street to Max and Natalie's aparment. The unnatural fluorescent streetlights gave her slight paled skin a glow, and her brown eyes a light, melted color.  
"You sure it's the right time, babe," I asked, letting my worry coat my words. I know for a fact Max hates me, but it was just so hard for her to accept. Especially at a crazy time like this. I mean, we hadn't even bothered to make sure it was ok with Natalie. 
"Of course! He's never THAT bitter to you when I'm around," she scoffed, using a sugar sweet voice that she knew always worked on me. She was definitely not the innocent little girl her big brother made her out to be. The smile that spread across her lips melted my insides, and it took the majority of my will power to keep calm and not just mesh our lips together. I realized we outside of a door, and my mind cursed at the fact that I didn't do it sooner. She brought her tiny fist to the door and pounded two subtle knocks. A minute passed and I could tell by the way she began chewing on her lip and pacing, that her patience was withering away quickly. My mind had to twist and shout just so I wouldn't do anything irrational with those pouty lips. 
"Yo, Maxxy open up," I called, my mouth close to the door. Instantly, the door opened revealing Max. Holy fuck the dude looked like shit. His stuble was well grown in, his eyes bloodshot and I could smell stench of the smoke from the pot he had evidently been smoking curling off of him. I heard Caro's slight gasp, and I turned, just in time to see the slight change of her eyes. They were wide and glassy, the shock written all over her pretty face. I couldn't help but take a defensive stance in front of her, between her brother. His eyes were only fixated on me, as if he hadn't even noticed Carolyn. 
"What the fuck are you doing here, asshole," he asked, his words so slurred it was hard to completly understand. He had always been bitter to me, but anger like this never quite slipped through- at least not in front of Caro. 
"WE just thought we'd stop by for a little visit." I put direct emphasis on 'we', deliberately looking down to Carolyn, and back to Max. His face flushed a ghostly pale almost instantly, his eyes finally leaving mine and dipping down to his sister's frightened face. 
"Caro," he croaked, his eyes mirroring her watering ones. 
"I guess now's not a good time," she said, slowly, pain loosely trailing over each word. I took her hand in mine, circling small, comforting strokes with my warm fingers. Max gripped at the door's henges for support. He couldn't be the big brother figure looking or acting like that. And I was sure he knew it. 
"Yeah, I uh... You guys, uh... Better go..." His words were only barely connected, the lump in his throat making his words sound so tortured. Carolyn nodded like it hurt her to do so, and he simply shut the door on our faces. Fucking douchebag. I tugged at her palm, and we walked back to the apartment's stairs, making slow steps. When we were back outside, our feet touching the glowing sidewalks of the moonlight, I pulled her to me, wrapping my arms around her tiny, shaking body. Tears stained her cheeks and washed the t-shirt I wore. 
"Shh, it's alright, Carolyn." I cooed and repeated that line, stroking her hair, and letting my warmth engulf her until her sobs died down to small whimpers. I placed my lips to her forehead, brushing her bangs aside lightly. That dude needs to get his shit together. Fast.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Aha if you think that's bad just you wait muhahahah- ok that's enough. This was probably way too much for a second chapter but oh well I have no self-control when it comes to going too fast too soon. 

CaroBECKETT: Omg I love you and the reviews are so great it make me feel gr8 and like I'm actually writing something reletively good. :-* 
heartheartheartheartheartheart 

NotesFromPaige: lolz shush up that's why it's called fanFIC, I can do whatever the hell I want. Ty for reviewing non the less, though duder. heart. 

Ps- I know this was short as fuck oh well.