Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > My Name is Violet Rage
Anger.
It was written all over Party’s face as he stared at the desert that lay before him.
I could tell he was angry because when he got angry, he shut up. Right now, he wasn’t making a sound AT ALL. He’s scaring me with the silence.
I looked back at Party. “Party?” I ask, reaching for his arm. He doesn’t jerk away, but when I touch him he stiffens and grips my truck’s steering wheel to the point of white knuckles. I pull back my hand, but Party’s still very tense. God, I hated it when he did this with Tim, doesn’t he remember that?
Party seems to read my mind about the ‘Tim’ part, because he turns to me and says, “That son of a bitch is dead.” I didn’t know if he meant right now or to be determined, so I nodded and turned my head to look out the passenger’s window as Party turns back towards the road. The sand that was being kicked up by my love and my truck’s front wheel made everything look like a mirage. The guys and Valium Syndrome were in my love, stinking it up with all their sweat, while Party was with me driving my truck, bottle of vodka in my hand just in case I start to forget things.
Party turns towards me again and says, “Why?” I shrug, knowing this isn’t a time for shrugging, but still moving my shoulders. “I was really sad and angry about Tim so I wrote-cut myself to remind myself to see him in his grave, stone cold dead. The pills I took because I didn’t want to feel the pain after the cutting.” The sadness and anger starts to bubble in its jar again, and I swear it’s gonna spill over if I continue with this conversation. I dig around on the floor for a moment, my hand feeling around on the ground until I feel what I sought for desperately: my iPod. Shit, this baby has seen so many fights and run-aways, I’m lucky I haven’t gotten bored of the 2000 and change songs in it. I kept it alive with a solar powered charger I made with spare parts from a lucky find of an electric and solar car I found once.
I put the big headphones over my ears, turn up the volume, and bob my head to one of my favorite old bands called Iron Maiden. They had just started their "The Final Frontier" tour when I met Tim and the Killjoys had begun. BL/ind had been around for ten years before the Killjoys and Tim, but nobody had thought they had been strong enough to rule the continent. From what I had heard a while back, they were now in Japan, Mexico, Europe, and Australia. Lucky bastards in Africa. Probably not so lucky now though.
I felt Party’s eyes on me, and I stopped bobbing my head and paused my music. He looked angry still, but now something else was in his eyes: curiosity. He pointed to my iPod and asked, “What’s that?” stunning me into a fish-faced look. He laughed softly, but didn’t stop looking at me holding my iPod.
“Uhh… This, erm, my frie-” I caught myself on 'friend'. Could I classify Party as a friend? I shook my head. “This, Party Poison, is an iPod.” I said, looking at his face.
“Oh,” he said quietly, looking a little sad at how I didn’t finish 'friend'. He already thought I was his friend? After he was friends with Tim? It was gonna take a long time for him to be my friend. And he was sad already? After being angry for twenty minutes? Damn, e-mo-tion-al train wreck.
I sighed. Why did the Black have to be in Zone 5? Why couldn’t it just be like everywhere? I put my broken arm on the window, making me wince, but I didn’t drink from the vodka bottle immediately. I needed to think. Yes, I was, am, number 6 on BL/ind’s ‘EXTERMINATE’ list, but that wasn’t legit enough, not a good enough excuse for the guys to need me. It could be possible that Party wanted to talk to me… But doesn’t every Killjoy know how to get another Killjoy’s attention over all the zones? You just radio them, and I have a radio, but I never got anything, not even from Dr. D... Urgh, I hate thinking. I should just follow my instincts more than anything.
I gripped the neck of the vodka bottle tighter in my hand and took a huge gulp of the burning liquid. I took a breath, and then another big swig. Party looked over, assuming I was starting to forget things. I was trying to forget, though. I took another huge swig and hiccupped.
Party looked over. I saw concern in his eyes, but I didn’t care. Another big mouthful, and down it went to my stomach. My liver was taking a pounding, because I usually never drank this much in one minute, but here I was, chugging like no tomorrow. Party grabbed my hand when I went to take my twelfth huge gulp (it was a big bottle!) and took the bottle from my hand, which I saw was shaking. “Nooooo….” I wailed softly, and reached over for it in his hands. I fell over into something soft and warm, and I was tired, so I closed my eyes for a minute or two. The soft thing moved, and I opened my eyes slowly. I saw below the steering wheel, and thought to myself, That’s funny… before realizing, with a pounding yet receding headache, where exactly my head was.
I turned my head up ever so slightly, with my eyes half closed, and looked up at Party’s face. He was staring down at me, face redder than his hair, and I laughed internally and smiled a huge, drunk smile externally. I knew I was making him uncomfortable. I turned my head back towards the bottom of my steering wheel, bringing my right hand, as much as it hurt to move it, towards my head and resting it below my head, not crushing it though, where I felt his member was. I felt him stiffen beneathe me with my touch, and couldn’t help but chuckle. He still thinks I’m drunk… and this time I bit my lip to keep from laughing. Let’s just see what happens when I do this…
I squeezed, like I normally do to my jacket to get rid of a pesky lump in my jacket, only this time it was him. He gasped, and I felt myself being pushed up towards the passenger’s door while he kept muttering, “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…” I opened my eyes a little, still playing along with Party as if I were drunk, and said to him, slurring my words, “You know it.” I chuckled giddily, and couldn’t help but think, Damn, I’m a good actress.
Party’s face was red as he turned his eyes back to the road, putting one hand over himself to kinda hide it. It was in plain sight, though, to his dismay and my laughs. I giggled some more, and reached over for my vodka bottle again, making sure I didn’t land face first into his crotch. I grabbed it, and he didn’t try to take it away from me. I was about 5 inches from his crotch though, and I saw it. He looked like he was ready to cum on himself. I laughed silently, making my body shake, and Party gasped again, putting his hand on me to back me up but not pushing me back. I raised an eyebrow and leaned back to my spot by the passenger's window. I smiled to no one, and drank more of my vodka, my system preparing for the battle it was about to have.
We didn’t speak for another forty-five minutes, until we reached the Black. I was looking forward to seeing my old friend Shot Fire again, so I prepared to jump out of the car. Party leaned over to the passenger’s seat, catching my arm as I almost fell out of the truck. I turned towards him, looking both grateful and angry. “Hey, can you not say anything about…” He nodded to his crotch, which was still looking a little stiff in my opinion.
“Just as long as you don’t tell anybody about my thing,” I said, and bounded off into the Black.
The Black is a huge abandoned factory with anything you may possibly want. Normally, I went up to the third floor, where all the food and bars were, but this time I walked straight ahead the guys and Valium Syndrome to my friend’s room. Shot sold a lot of books and music, so when I wasn’t in one of the third floor bars, getting slowly wasted, I was at her place.
“Hey, Rage!” Shot yelled over the crowd attacking her music area. “Haven’t seen you in for’ver!” She pulled me into a hug, and I smelled Shot’s mix of garlic and organic “cigarettes”, as she liked to call her crack. The smell was oddly comforting, and I felt myself breathing in the big lady’s signature smell. She pulled me away from her body, looking me over. When she saw my crooked nose, she frowned. When she saw my broken arm, though, she tapped my chin. “Been gettin’ into fights lately, Vi?”
I shake my head. “Not exactly,” I say, as she rushes everyone out of her room. I know what she’s doing. She’s gonna take me up to level 4, which is really an attic, but it’s where everything medical is. I groan and frown. “You don’t have to do this, Shot. I’ll just go up there myself,” I lie, looking to my left at the newest music she got that was making everyone go insane. Justin Bieber? God, I hope he’s dead. Worse yet, stuck in Battery City, not singing at all.
“Ah, ah, ah, you’re not going to try to run this time,” she says, grabbing my good arm and locking her room up, which, lucky for her, is a room with a door and a lock that works. She checks the lock, nods, and drags me up the stairs to the fourth level. I swear I saw Midget and Party holding hands on level two, and I laugh as I’m struggling to keep up with Betsy. For such a big woman, she can really haul ass.
When I get to the fourth level, Shot asked for a doc, and here comes a blue-haired, brown eyed man. He takes me past the sides filled with people waiting to be helped with broken anythings, and I can’t say I’m not feeling special. I sit down at the man’s desk table thing and he unwraps my arm, making me wince and dig my nails into my pants.
I look as he looks too. He totally passes the thin scars on my arm, looking solely at my arm as a whole. He sets my arm down gently and gets up for a few minutes, returning with gauze and a make-shift sling. He begins to wrap my arm up, still saying nothing, and gives the sling to me to put on myself. “Try not to move it or bump it, ect cetra, ect cetra…” he says in a medium pitch voice, talking with his hand. I nod, and walk back down to level one, where a small crowd has gathered, waiting for Shot. She unlocks her door, and we all cram inside, me trying to keep my arm out of harm’s way.
Once she and I were inside, and her flow of people were back to normal, she grabbed two beers from a cooler behind her chair, trying to give me one. “Oh, no no no… I have a funny story about me drinking that just happened not two hours ago,” I said. Shot leaned forward, her left hand cupping her chin, elbows on her knees, her right hand rolling at the wrist, encouraging me to go on. She looked happy with me there, and that made me feel good inside that I was making Shot happy.
An hour later, I finished my story. Maybe it took me so long because I've counted myself as the “occasional alcoholic" for three years now, making it hard to keep a train of thought, or maybe it took me so long because Shot wouldn’t stop interrupting me with her laughter, which in turn would make me laugh too. Shot Fire has the funniest laugh I’ve ever heard. She leans her head back, and, starting quiet, she makes a sound like an elephant, scaring nearby people but making me laugh. We had gone through two beers each, which was pretty good for me, but Shot apparently doesn't drink much because she was smiling at random things. I closed the shop for her and said, “I’ll come back and see you when I can,” as she got up to give me a hug. Shot started to cry, but I knew it was from the headache she had. I put her back in her chair, and left.
I walked up to level 3, looking through the bars to see if there was anyone I knew. Nobody. I got some food and walked back out to my truck, hoping Party wouldn’t go insane looking for me inside. After eating, I dozed off, into the empty space people call dreams. I was shoved awake by a group of Dracs surrounding my truck. Shit, just when I’m getting some shut eye. I look towards the Black and see more Dracs rushing in. God I hope Party’s alright. Shot’s safe though.
Party Poison
Violet walked ahead of Mikey, Frank, Ray, Bob, and I, Mikey tugging along Valium Syndrome. I smiled as I saw her walk off. Even with her dirty clothes and broken arm, she still looked hot. I thought about what happened in her truck and what might have happened and started to blush from the thought.
Ray saw me blush. “Aww, Poison’s got a thing for Rage!” People turned their heads, but when they saw who it was, they just turned back around. It’s amazing what being the top five on the EXTERMINATE list can do for a person. I punched Ray in the arm, hurting my hand and hopefully more so his arm. He said, “Owww,” but nothing more.
“Aw c’mon P, we know you got a thing for her,” Mikey said, nudging my arm with his. Mikey always knew everything, and most of the time it got annoying. “If it makes you feel any better, it seems like she’s been calming down a little bit since she’s been around you,” Mikey whispered into my ear, making me blush just slightly as I thought of her. I almost wish she did something in the truck, but she didn’t. Stupid drunk people.
“Mikey, shut it, alright? I don’t need crap right now. I got something to hunt down.” With that, I pivoted on my heel and walked towards the entrance of the Black.
Frank caught my arm when I was ten feet away from the guys. “Can I tag along?” he said, looking like a sad puppy. If swear, if I was 100% gay, this guy would be all mine. I nodded, and we walked off together.
After walking to level two, Frank grabbed my hand. I looked down at him and smiled as he smiled back. I heard a laugh somewhere and could have sworn it was Vi’s, but I didn’t check. I walked with Frank slowly for about forty-five minutes before realizing that it was gone. My favorite place, Neon Polish’s place, was nowhere to be seen on level two. I could have sworn it was on level two, but her shop was gone. I frowned and Frank saw me frown.
“What’s wrong babe?” he asked, looking at me with doe eyes. I nearly melted. I just wanted to take Frank in my arms and never let go. But giving a blowjob to another guy, in public, it's not all that cracked up to be. I just smiled back, but I felt it didn’t reach my eyes.
“My shop’s been closed down,” I frowned as I said that, and Frankie gave me a hug. I hugged back. God, I loved this guy. I rustled his hair. “Don’t worry, I’ll find another shop like it.” I put my head on his and started walking back towards the stairs. Frankie wouldn’t let go of my waist, so I was basically carrying his weight with mine while I was walking, which took less than forty-five minutes, but still took a good twenty-five.
We were almost down the stairs when I heard the first ray gun blast. I instinctively whipped out my gun and so did Frank. I didn’t have to see anything to know it was a bunch of Dracs coming to fuck the place up. Frank knew it too, but he stayed behind me as I ran down the remaining stairs. First Dracs I saw I shot between the eyes. I didn’t know where Violet was, and I guessed that why I was anxious. I ran outside, shooting twelve Dracs out of my way, helping two other people block off the Black. I shot four more Dracs on my way to Violet’s truck where I saw a huge group was forming. I heard shots from twenty feet away, and my trigger-finger instincts kicked in as I ran towards Violet.
It was written all over Party’s face as he stared at the desert that lay before him.
I could tell he was angry because when he got angry, he shut up. Right now, he wasn’t making a sound AT ALL. He’s scaring me with the silence.
I looked back at Party. “Party?” I ask, reaching for his arm. He doesn’t jerk away, but when I touch him he stiffens and grips my truck’s steering wheel to the point of white knuckles. I pull back my hand, but Party’s still very tense. God, I hated it when he did this with Tim, doesn’t he remember that?
Party seems to read my mind about the ‘Tim’ part, because he turns to me and says, “That son of a bitch is dead.” I didn’t know if he meant right now or to be determined, so I nodded and turned my head to look out the passenger’s window as Party turns back towards the road. The sand that was being kicked up by my love and my truck’s front wheel made everything look like a mirage. The guys and Valium Syndrome were in my love, stinking it up with all their sweat, while Party was with me driving my truck, bottle of vodka in my hand just in case I start to forget things.
Party turns towards me again and says, “Why?” I shrug, knowing this isn’t a time for shrugging, but still moving my shoulders. “I was really sad and angry about Tim so I wrote-cut myself to remind myself to see him in his grave, stone cold dead. The pills I took because I didn’t want to feel the pain after the cutting.” The sadness and anger starts to bubble in its jar again, and I swear it’s gonna spill over if I continue with this conversation. I dig around on the floor for a moment, my hand feeling around on the ground until I feel what I sought for desperately: my iPod. Shit, this baby has seen so many fights and run-aways, I’m lucky I haven’t gotten bored of the 2000 and change songs in it. I kept it alive with a solar powered charger I made with spare parts from a lucky find of an electric and solar car I found once.
I put the big headphones over my ears, turn up the volume, and bob my head to one of my favorite old bands called Iron Maiden. They had just started their "The Final Frontier" tour when I met Tim and the Killjoys had begun. BL/ind had been around for ten years before the Killjoys and Tim, but nobody had thought they had been strong enough to rule the continent. From what I had heard a while back, they were now in Japan, Mexico, Europe, and Australia. Lucky bastards in Africa. Probably not so lucky now though.
I felt Party’s eyes on me, and I stopped bobbing my head and paused my music. He looked angry still, but now something else was in his eyes: curiosity. He pointed to my iPod and asked, “What’s that?” stunning me into a fish-faced look. He laughed softly, but didn’t stop looking at me holding my iPod.
“Uhh… This, erm, my frie-” I caught myself on 'friend'. Could I classify Party as a friend? I shook my head. “This, Party Poison, is an iPod.” I said, looking at his face.
“Oh,” he said quietly, looking a little sad at how I didn’t finish 'friend'. He already thought I was his friend? After he was friends with Tim? It was gonna take a long time for him to be my friend. And he was sad already? After being angry for twenty minutes? Damn, e-mo-tion-al train wreck.
I sighed. Why did the Black have to be in Zone 5? Why couldn’t it just be like everywhere? I put my broken arm on the window, making me wince, but I didn’t drink from the vodka bottle immediately. I needed to think. Yes, I was, am, number 6 on BL/ind’s ‘EXTERMINATE’ list, but that wasn’t legit enough, not a good enough excuse for the guys to need me. It could be possible that Party wanted to talk to me… But doesn’t every Killjoy know how to get another Killjoy’s attention over all the zones? You just radio them, and I have a radio, but I never got anything, not even from Dr. D... Urgh, I hate thinking. I should just follow my instincts more than anything.
I gripped the neck of the vodka bottle tighter in my hand and took a huge gulp of the burning liquid. I took a breath, and then another big swig. Party looked over, assuming I was starting to forget things. I was trying to forget, though. I took another huge swig and hiccupped.
Party looked over. I saw concern in his eyes, but I didn’t care. Another big mouthful, and down it went to my stomach. My liver was taking a pounding, because I usually never drank this much in one minute, but here I was, chugging like no tomorrow. Party grabbed my hand when I went to take my twelfth huge gulp (it was a big bottle!) and took the bottle from my hand, which I saw was shaking. “Nooooo….” I wailed softly, and reached over for it in his hands. I fell over into something soft and warm, and I was tired, so I closed my eyes for a minute or two. The soft thing moved, and I opened my eyes slowly. I saw below the steering wheel, and thought to myself, That’s funny… before realizing, with a pounding yet receding headache, where exactly my head was.
I turned my head up ever so slightly, with my eyes half closed, and looked up at Party’s face. He was staring down at me, face redder than his hair, and I laughed internally and smiled a huge, drunk smile externally. I knew I was making him uncomfortable. I turned my head back towards the bottom of my steering wheel, bringing my right hand, as much as it hurt to move it, towards my head and resting it below my head, not crushing it though, where I felt his member was. I felt him stiffen beneathe me with my touch, and couldn’t help but chuckle. He still thinks I’m drunk… and this time I bit my lip to keep from laughing. Let’s just see what happens when I do this…
I squeezed, like I normally do to my jacket to get rid of a pesky lump in my jacket, only this time it was him. He gasped, and I felt myself being pushed up towards the passenger’s door while he kept muttering, “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…” I opened my eyes a little, still playing along with Party as if I were drunk, and said to him, slurring my words, “You know it.” I chuckled giddily, and couldn’t help but think, Damn, I’m a good actress.
Party’s face was red as he turned his eyes back to the road, putting one hand over himself to kinda hide it. It was in plain sight, though, to his dismay and my laughs. I giggled some more, and reached over for my vodka bottle again, making sure I didn’t land face first into his crotch. I grabbed it, and he didn’t try to take it away from me. I was about 5 inches from his crotch though, and I saw it. He looked like he was ready to cum on himself. I laughed silently, making my body shake, and Party gasped again, putting his hand on me to back me up but not pushing me back. I raised an eyebrow and leaned back to my spot by the passenger's window. I smiled to no one, and drank more of my vodka, my system preparing for the battle it was about to have.
We didn’t speak for another forty-five minutes, until we reached the Black. I was looking forward to seeing my old friend Shot Fire again, so I prepared to jump out of the car. Party leaned over to the passenger’s seat, catching my arm as I almost fell out of the truck. I turned towards him, looking both grateful and angry. “Hey, can you not say anything about…” He nodded to his crotch, which was still looking a little stiff in my opinion.
“Just as long as you don’t tell anybody about my thing,” I said, and bounded off into the Black.
The Black is a huge abandoned factory with anything you may possibly want. Normally, I went up to the third floor, where all the food and bars were, but this time I walked straight ahead the guys and Valium Syndrome to my friend’s room. Shot sold a lot of books and music, so when I wasn’t in one of the third floor bars, getting slowly wasted, I was at her place.
“Hey, Rage!” Shot yelled over the crowd attacking her music area. “Haven’t seen you in for’ver!” She pulled me into a hug, and I smelled Shot’s mix of garlic and organic “cigarettes”, as she liked to call her crack. The smell was oddly comforting, and I felt myself breathing in the big lady’s signature smell. She pulled me away from her body, looking me over. When she saw my crooked nose, she frowned. When she saw my broken arm, though, she tapped my chin. “Been gettin’ into fights lately, Vi?”
I shake my head. “Not exactly,” I say, as she rushes everyone out of her room. I know what she’s doing. She’s gonna take me up to level 4, which is really an attic, but it’s where everything medical is. I groan and frown. “You don’t have to do this, Shot. I’ll just go up there myself,” I lie, looking to my left at the newest music she got that was making everyone go insane. Justin Bieber? God, I hope he’s dead. Worse yet, stuck in Battery City, not singing at all.
“Ah, ah, ah, you’re not going to try to run this time,” she says, grabbing my good arm and locking her room up, which, lucky for her, is a room with a door and a lock that works. She checks the lock, nods, and drags me up the stairs to the fourth level. I swear I saw Midget and Party holding hands on level two, and I laugh as I’m struggling to keep up with Betsy. For such a big woman, she can really haul ass.
When I get to the fourth level, Shot asked for a doc, and here comes a blue-haired, brown eyed man. He takes me past the sides filled with people waiting to be helped with broken anythings, and I can’t say I’m not feeling special. I sit down at the man’s desk table thing and he unwraps my arm, making me wince and dig my nails into my pants.
I look as he looks too. He totally passes the thin scars on my arm, looking solely at my arm as a whole. He sets my arm down gently and gets up for a few minutes, returning with gauze and a make-shift sling. He begins to wrap my arm up, still saying nothing, and gives the sling to me to put on myself. “Try not to move it or bump it, ect cetra, ect cetra…” he says in a medium pitch voice, talking with his hand. I nod, and walk back down to level one, where a small crowd has gathered, waiting for Shot. She unlocks her door, and we all cram inside, me trying to keep my arm out of harm’s way.
Once she and I were inside, and her flow of people were back to normal, she grabbed two beers from a cooler behind her chair, trying to give me one. “Oh, no no no… I have a funny story about me drinking that just happened not two hours ago,” I said. Shot leaned forward, her left hand cupping her chin, elbows on her knees, her right hand rolling at the wrist, encouraging me to go on. She looked happy with me there, and that made me feel good inside that I was making Shot happy.
An hour later, I finished my story. Maybe it took me so long because I've counted myself as the “occasional alcoholic" for three years now, making it hard to keep a train of thought, or maybe it took me so long because Shot wouldn’t stop interrupting me with her laughter, which in turn would make me laugh too. Shot Fire has the funniest laugh I’ve ever heard. She leans her head back, and, starting quiet, she makes a sound like an elephant, scaring nearby people but making me laugh. We had gone through two beers each, which was pretty good for me, but Shot apparently doesn't drink much because she was smiling at random things. I closed the shop for her and said, “I’ll come back and see you when I can,” as she got up to give me a hug. Shot started to cry, but I knew it was from the headache she had. I put her back in her chair, and left.
I walked up to level 3, looking through the bars to see if there was anyone I knew. Nobody. I got some food and walked back out to my truck, hoping Party wouldn’t go insane looking for me inside. After eating, I dozed off, into the empty space people call dreams. I was shoved awake by a group of Dracs surrounding my truck. Shit, just when I’m getting some shut eye. I look towards the Black and see more Dracs rushing in. God I hope Party’s alright. Shot’s safe though.
Party Poison
Violet walked ahead of Mikey, Frank, Ray, Bob, and I, Mikey tugging along Valium Syndrome. I smiled as I saw her walk off. Even with her dirty clothes and broken arm, she still looked hot. I thought about what happened in her truck and what might have happened and started to blush from the thought.
Ray saw me blush. “Aww, Poison’s got a thing for Rage!” People turned their heads, but when they saw who it was, they just turned back around. It’s amazing what being the top five on the EXTERMINATE list can do for a person. I punched Ray in the arm, hurting my hand and hopefully more so his arm. He said, “Owww,” but nothing more.
“Aw c’mon P, we know you got a thing for her,” Mikey said, nudging my arm with his. Mikey always knew everything, and most of the time it got annoying. “If it makes you feel any better, it seems like she’s been calming down a little bit since she’s been around you,” Mikey whispered into my ear, making me blush just slightly as I thought of her. I almost wish she did something in the truck, but she didn’t. Stupid drunk people.
“Mikey, shut it, alright? I don’t need crap right now. I got something to hunt down.” With that, I pivoted on my heel and walked towards the entrance of the Black.
Frank caught my arm when I was ten feet away from the guys. “Can I tag along?” he said, looking like a sad puppy. If swear, if I was 100% gay, this guy would be all mine. I nodded, and we walked off together.
After walking to level two, Frank grabbed my hand. I looked down at him and smiled as he smiled back. I heard a laugh somewhere and could have sworn it was Vi’s, but I didn’t check. I walked with Frank slowly for about forty-five minutes before realizing that it was gone. My favorite place, Neon Polish’s place, was nowhere to be seen on level two. I could have sworn it was on level two, but her shop was gone. I frowned and Frank saw me frown.
“What’s wrong babe?” he asked, looking at me with doe eyes. I nearly melted. I just wanted to take Frank in my arms and never let go. But giving a blowjob to another guy, in public, it's not all that cracked up to be. I just smiled back, but I felt it didn’t reach my eyes.
“My shop’s been closed down,” I frowned as I said that, and Frankie gave me a hug. I hugged back. God, I loved this guy. I rustled his hair. “Don’t worry, I’ll find another shop like it.” I put my head on his and started walking back towards the stairs. Frankie wouldn’t let go of my waist, so I was basically carrying his weight with mine while I was walking, which took less than forty-five minutes, but still took a good twenty-five.
We were almost down the stairs when I heard the first ray gun blast. I instinctively whipped out my gun and so did Frank. I didn’t have to see anything to know it was a bunch of Dracs coming to fuck the place up. Frank knew it too, but he stayed behind me as I ran down the remaining stairs. First Dracs I saw I shot between the eyes. I didn’t know where Violet was, and I guessed that why I was anxious. I ran outside, shooting twelve Dracs out of my way, helping two other people block off the Black. I shot four more Dracs on my way to Violet’s truck where I saw a huge group was forming. I heard shots from twenty feet away, and my trigger-finger instincts kicked in as I ran towards Violet.
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