Exploding Heart Disorder (Fearless Vampire Killers Fanfic)

Chapter Four

[Alyx's P.O.V.]

I open my eyes slowly, reluctantly, staring up at my poster-covered ceiling. I sigh deeply, staring up at the dark-haired icon of rock perfection that is Matt Tuck blu-tacked to my ceiling, waving sleepily up at the poster, and then hear a loud bang. I gasp, sitting up in bed quickly, and see that my comics have all fallen off the shelf. I groan, and then sigh deeply as I see that Mitch is awkwardly standing in front of my desk, biting her lip nervously.

"Ah, hell." She mutters, and then looks towards me. "Hi, Alyx...sorry 'bout the comics...and the shelf. I was only looking, promise!"

"You must have the heaviest damn gaze ever, dear." I mutter, pushing up out of bed and quickly yanking my hair bobble out of my thick black hair. "Did my aunt let you in?"

"Yeah; she said you wouldn't get up otherwise. And you don't want to miss this gig tonight, do you?"

I smile. "No, I guess not."

I've been here in London for two weeks now, but I've only spent one week of it in school. On Monday a girl called Mitch Kemp befriended me, as well as her mad twin brother and his four perverted, pranking friends, and they invited me to a gig tonight to see a band called My Passion.

Well, Kier's friend, Drew, invited me. And now everyone is taking it the wrong way.

Within the week I've been attending school in London Mitch has become a good friend of mine - one of the best I've had, in fact. And now she seems to think it's okay to wake me up on a Saturday at - I quickly check the clock on my bedside table - eight in the freaking morning!

"You woke me up four hours too soon." I mutter, padding across the room and rifling through my drawers for some decent - or any - clothes. I decide on a pair of black skinnies and my favourite Suicide Silence t-shirt, quickly pulling a brush through my mop of black hair and quickly applying thick eyeliner.

"Jeez, any more eyeliner and you'll look like a panda." Mitch whistles.

"Or worse," I mutter, "like Laurence." Now she cracks up, her laugh almost hysterical as she snorts. We've found that taking the utter piss out of her brother and his friends is just too fun, and pranking them is even better.

"There's a reason for getting you up this early." Mitch tells me as we leave the house, after I've bid my aunt a quick farewell. I won't be seeing her until tomorrow, seeing as I'm staying at Mitch's. "I have a feeling the boys are up to something, and I want to have a raid through their flat to see what they're up to."

I smile slightly. "Pay back for what they did to your locker?"

Her nod is quick. "But of course. I haven't gotten them back for that quite yet."

"Or the other pranks Drew told me about." Mitch cocks an eyebrow. "They filled your bra with pudding? And smeared honey and feathers over your windows?"

Her eyes narrow until she looks like she might eat someone's intestines, something I've been warned Drew also threatens to do.

"Sons of bitches. Forgot about that for a second. But you need to get your own back, because Laurence's pudding is disgusting, and to find that in your bag...I really feel for you, love."

I smile grimly, and then Mitch stops walking in front of a small brick house, putting her arm out and pointing towards the door.

"That way, dear."

I silently walk up the path, lifting my hand to knock on the door, but Mitch grabs my hand to stop me, opening the door quietly and sneaking into the house. I follow on quietly, closing the door behind me, our footsteps quiet on the laminate flooring. The mess in the house reminds me of my own room, and the smell in the house is a mixture of what must be cheese pizza, chocolate and feet. I wrinkle my nose in sudden disgust, and Mitch stops walking as we enter a small front room, which is cluttered with t-shirts, artist's tools, CDs, pizza boxes, empty beer bottles, guitars, energy drink cans, and whatever else a group of five guys would need for unhealthy living in a small flat. I hear a squelch beneath my feet, and tense up, before looking down and seeing a melted mess of Reese's chocolate cups smeared all over the floor, a pair of boxer shorts lying not far from the mess. I gape, resisting the urge to yelp, and Mitch sniggers, before pointing towards a wooden door not five feet from where I am stood.