I'm Sorry- A Slipknot Story

Chapter 94

---time skip---

I slide down to the floor and lean the back of my head on the wall. I take off my mask and set it on the floor beside my hip, closing my eyes. I just got out of the signing and boy did the haters have something to say about my clothes and mask. I had to physically get up and leave, otherwise I was going to be the one to jump across the table and beat the life out of them. 

I can't help but let some tears out, taking my contacts out. I put them in their case and wipe my cheeks, hearing the guys get done with the signing 20 minutes early. But, I know I can't make them go back because they're more stubborn than an ass.

Sid appears in front of me and I stop my tears, smiling a fake smile. Even tough I've gotten over my depression, I still don't want my RBF to show. He says nothing and pulls me up, wrapping his arms around me. Corey picks my mask up and looks at it, getting the little rhinestones to shine by moving it.

"I know you're thinking about it," Sid says after he lets go.

"Stop. Stop thinking about it. Stop," he says, making me laugh.

"I'm not," I say.

"You are. You're thinking about you have resting bitch face. Let me tell you, you don't," he says.

"Really? You think I don't," I ask.

"Wait, you've never seen her resting face," Corey asks Sid.

"Well, no," he admits. I let my face go RBF and he looks back, seeing the horror.

"I take it back," he says. I smile and the opening starts, making them go on stage. But not before they pinch the ass that is mine. Corey tosses my mask to me and I catch it, watching them leave.

-after performance-

Sid jumps up and clings, really fucking sweaty. The upside to it is he didn't change a bit, but the downside to it is his hair grew out and now I got a face full of his hair. Karma's a bitch. Corey slicks back his hair and I walk next to Shawn, getting asked questions by him like the dad that he is.

"I'm okay, really," I say. 

He, along with the rest of the guys, are worried that the words got in my head. To be honest, they did. I can't help but think about their words and believe them. I'm used to doing that, along with being ridiculed for whatever I've done before I got there in the first place. At least they didn't see my tattoos, otherwise they would have a field day.

"Don't lie, we all know you're like a sponge when it comes to hater's words," Corey says.

"They're onto me," I say quietly, making most of them laugh.

"You're such a goof," Paul says.

"You are too Paulie," I say, getting a hug from him.

"I like the nickname," he says.

"Good, because it's your new name," I say, making him laugh.

-evening-

I'm sitting on the couch with Sid, in a pretty normal position. I'm laying on my back with my legs on him, while he's drawing on my shins and calves with an erasable marker. I let him do that because he always cleans my legs after if I don't tell him to keep it. He's currently drawing on my left shin with a red marker.

"Hey Liz," he starts. 

I close my book on my thumb and rest it on my abdomen, looking at him draw. He's half bent over my legs, one hand on my lower shin while the other's drawing with the red marker.

"Yes Mr. Artist," I ask, making him smile.

"Are you going to get more tattoos," he asks.

"Why wouldn't I," I ask.

"So that's a yes," he asks, not looking up.

"Yes. That's a yes," I say. I put my bookmark in my book and put it on the floor, resting a hand on it.

"You have a suggestion," I ask, making him smile again.

"Kind of. I thought, since you love stargazing but you can't do it often anymore, why not get a spine tattoo," he suggests.

"Go on," I say.

"The tattoo would be like this," he says. He puts the cap on the marker and I sit up, seeing the moon's phases in a row.

"On my spine," I say, him nodding.

"Color or no," I ask.

"No color," he says.

"I'll take it into consideration. It honestly would suit me pretty well and it would be hidden by a shirt," I say, the last part to myself.

"You're taking tattoo suggestions now," Corey asks.

"Yep. You got one," I ask, making him smile.

"No. Well, not yet," he says. 

He walks back to whatever he was doing and Sid keeps drawing, while I go back to my book. I'm going to get the tattoo Sid suggested, but keep it a secret for a time.

"How many tattoos do you have," Sid asks.

"23," I say, not looking up.

"Really? That seems like a lot for someone like you," he says.

"Actually no. It's easy for me to get tattoos because I don't feel any discomfort when I get them. It's quite a phenomenon actually," I explain.

"How many tattoos are you thinking of getting before you die," he asks.

"I might die tonight in my sleep Sid. I honestly have no idea," I say.