She's With The Band

𝐅𝐈𝐅𝐓𝐘

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It means so much to me!

Hope you guys like this one :)

Nate's Point of View:

Her hands not broken, thank god.

But Kyle Thompsons entire body is about to be.

All I can see is red. Quite literally.

And I'm furious.

Like really fucking furious.

All I want to do now is track down this prick, shove that silver spoon he was born with lodged in his mouth so far down his throat, tear him apart limb from limb, and then burn his body in an agonizing painful fire and watch as he screams over the excruciating pain.

Kyle Thompson. I mean christ what a pathetic name for such a pathetic waste of space. Kyle Thompson damn it. 6 foot quarter back blondie at some rich private school in the Upper East Side. I just wish I could go up to him and punch him in his square face and then kick his ass.

I've seen pictures of him before which is even more annoying because I used to mess with Aubrey about it because I didn't know he was such a horrible fucking person. And what pisses me off even more is that he's this privileged kid who got fucking piss drunk, raped her, and is going to get out of prison early because he has privilege and a fuck ton of daddy's money.

The only thing that's stopping me from beating the burning and living hell out of him is Aubrey. Aubrey who had begged me, had practically pleaded that I don't do anything if we ever come to cross him which I honestly doubt we will.

I can't keep that promise to her though.

And for her sake I hope we don't ever come to cross him, because I have no problem ripping his spleen open.

And god I feel so fucking awful over what happened yesterday. She had a brutal breakdown and I had to watch as she cracked. She was sobbing like crazy and she had injured her hand from smashing the mirror so hard.

Thank god it's not broken though.

I'm literally going to kill him.

To relieve my frustration, I'm pummeling a punching bag in the hotel gym, and I'm pretending that it's him.

Thankfully, nobody is in this gym except for me. There's actually a few gyms in this hotel, and normally I'd be surprised that I'm the only one in here, but in a way I guess it makes sense considering it's 7 am, and who else would be going to the gym? It's not like this expensive hotel is filled with body builders, and MMA fighters. More like pristine rich company owners or multimillion dollar business men. I doubt I'll be seeing anyone like that in here.

Strange heavy metal music is blasting through my headphones. I'm too focused on picturing Kyle's face on the punching bag, that I can't even remember who sings this song. All I can hear is heavy drums, loud electric guitars, and violent screaming. I wonder if I'd ever be good at that? Just screaming instead of singing. You know, putting some loud drums behind my voice along with sharp guitar shreds and screaming things like bloody murder and selling it.

The music is so deafening that if someone were to say something to me, I doubt I'd be able to even hear them.

"You okay?" A voice asked loudly as I heard the door shut, and the bell jingled.

Or so I thought.

"Fine." I replied back to the voice that I was able to faintly hear.

"Can you even hear me with those obnoxious headphones?" the voice asked.