Street Artist

Chapter 14

A/N: im back baby~ for now anyways~ since the adorable comments on the most recent update have just warmed my little ol' heart i decided to reward those of you who stuck around;) and by the way guys, WE HAVE ACHIEVED 8.6 k READS *grouphug* oh and btw before i start the chapter i found a comment in which couple names for katie and seth were being pondered. just throwing that out there<3

When last we bothered with this story (as of right now that was approximately 3 hrs ago i believe), Katie was incredibly restless and I ended with her saying 'I did something stupid.'

|AND SO THE STORY OF KATIE-KAT SHALL CONTINUE|

I did something stupid.

As much as I'd love to blame Seth for me being reckless, I'm being to think maybe I'm just losing what's left of my sanity all on my own. 

That's the only plausible reason I would be such a freaking idiot...

(*hella flashback*) ~~~

I've been pacing for over an hour and I'm only getting more and more worked up with each step I take back and forth in my bedroom.  It's like cabin-fever but tenfold.

I throw open my closet, slam it shut, glare at it, and open it again.  After haphazardly shoving through the contents of my closet I pull out the super comfy once black, now multi-colored from all the paint splattered on them, skinny jeans and a faded Dead Kennedys t-shirt, shoving my feet into a pair of worn Converse.

I only hesitate for a second before pulling the classic rebellious teenager move and climbing out the window (which is actually quite tricky, believe it or not) and making a bee-line for the warehouse.

It takes less then ten minutes to load up with all the necessary supplies for me to act like a masochistic, irrational idiot.  I don't stop to question the consequences of my actions.  It doesn't occur to me, in my frazzled state of mind, that maybe- just maybe- going to the high security mansion of the guy that seems to be the source of all this frustration is a really fucking bad idea.

But I don't bother thinking about such trivial things.

I'm too busy spraypainting the lovely canvas that is one of the outer walls of the mansion, currently inhabited by (you guessed it) Seth.

I don't bother considering the implications of someone catching me in the act.  I certainly don't reflect on the fact that, in my rush to relieve my irritation, I forgot to ditch the glasses and 'school appropriate Katie' hairstyle.

I'm too busy being a fucking dumbass.

So it shouldn't really come as a surprise that I fucked myself over beyond repair this time.

I got caught.

I got caught by the devil.

Worse.

I got caught by Seth.

(*End of flashback*)

Of course he knew who I was.  Maybe not both of me, but he at least had to have figured out that I was 'K'.  He's not that dense. (Well... probably anyway..)

I didn't bother sticking around long enough to find out for sure.

I did, however, leave him a nice parting gift. 

A token of my affection, if you will.

The outer wall of the left wing of his families mansion is now home to the giant spray-paint pig (whom I have dubbed Preston, because he looked like a Preston) with a ribbon around it's neck reading 'Raised for Slaughter'.

I am an idiot.

I am officially screwed.

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

*mic drops*

yeah. 2 updates in one day. YOURE WELCOME.

(see the baby cliff hanger in the last one can't even be called a cliff hanger bc i finished this chapter too quickly dammit)