"my mistakes i've made
won't leave me alone."
☆
narrator's pov
dahlia & damien's house
"i don't exactly have much in the snack department." damien raised his voice to be heard from the kitchen as he scoured through cabinets, trying to be a good, extremely last minute host for his bandmates and the five near-strangers in his living room. "i've got half a bag of.." he turned the opened package in his hand around. "these trader joe's brand takis.. and about enough tea packets to warm the entire north american homeless population.." he began to mumble into the tail end of his sentence.
"bring the takis." eric yelled back. "i love that shit."
"they're probably stale." dahlia commented as she flicked her thumb against the metal roller ball of the lighter between her fingers. turning it over as the flame ignited, she hovered the orange blaze over the two wicks of a brand new, patchouli scented candle. the incense-like smell and light crackling sound began to fill the room.
"more for me then." the drummer lifted his sculpted arms over top of his head and rested them behind his neck. he closed his eyes just in time for damien to walk through the open doorway between the kitchen and the living room, throwing the crumpled up bag of chips in a perfect line. "damn." eric cringed back as it hit his hard chest.
damien smirked in pride and wandered back into the kitchen.
"sorry if you guys thought this was an alcohol, shitty food and music type 'let's hang out at our place.'" kurt spoke up, sat the wrong way on one of the single loveseats in the spacious room, his long legs dangling off the edge of the right arm rest. "we're all, like.. vegetarian and boring." he held his wrist just barely above his head, flicking around what was left of the joint in the tin container in his pocket.
"and stoners." andrew, who was stood with his side leaned against the chair the bassist was sunk into, snatched it right from his fingers.
"bitch." kurt's head shot up from leaning on the armrest of the loveseat.
"damien will catch on fucking fire if you smoke this in the house." andrew laughed as he set the joint on the small, dark coffee table next to the chair.
"damien will what?" a deep voice shouted from the kitchen.
"nothing, mom." kurt fell back down to his back, covering up his eyes with his arm and the dark blue flannel fabric it was hidden in. his pearly white toothed smile flashed as he chuckled at his own joke.
"i like it here." ricky turned his eyes and spoke lightly to the bandmate closest to his side on the couch as mini conversations ensued around the room. vinny held his smile on the side of his lips.
the young drummer hesitated before he leaned forward to look to all of his bandmates, who were all sat to the left of him- all of them but their lead singer. "i think chris does too." he muttered, faking out a natural touch of his hand to his face to hide the movement of his lips.
the four glanced over to chris, who was sitting alone on the opposite side of the room, head leaning on his hand and eyes glued to one spot.
directly across from chris's line of sight was the singer of letters from your ghost, clearly distracted trying to perfect the little details around the space where everyone had gathered. her back was turned away from her guests, looking over the rather large shelf space full of vinyl records in the main room of the house.
YOU ARE READING
chemical kids & mechanical brides. ☽ andy biersack
Fanfiction"fuck. you." my nose scrunched and eyes narrowed as i threw expletives his way with vexation and a bit of spit. i burned like a raging wildfire as i watched him smirk and slowly lean his upper body down to almost, but not quite, meet me at eye leve...
