Behind closed doors

Chapter three

"Maybe it's not a fucking good idea! Maybe, just maybe, you would think about other people before YOUR FUCKING SELF MITCHEL!" Clinton roared. "Fuck you Clinton! I honestly couldn't give two fucks about your opinion on my life. Just because you're my fucking brother doesn't mean you can tell me how to live my own goddamn life!" Mitty retorted. "OY SHUT THE FUCK UP! It's not that big of a damn deal for fucks sake it's a fucking website get over it!" Kras steps in. Both Mitchel and Clinton got out of each other's face. From what I had gathered Mitchel had redone the design on the website without anyone else knowing. The boys had been going at it for all of five minutes when they were shut down. I was in the editing room and Clinton walked in breathing hard. I got up and looked in his eyes. He looked tired. "What's wrong baby that website really isn't that big of a deal." I comforted him hugging him. I felt him sob and startled out of the hug and looked up at him. "Clinton, baby please tell me what it is. I can't stand seeing you like this."I begged. "I can't deal with all of this shit that's going on. I just want a fucking break for once. Every since the concert when I met you everything's been shit! This is all your fucking fault!" He started screaming. I flinched involuntary. His face fell and he put his hands on top of his head. "FUCK FUCK FUCK!" He screams before grabbing a lamp and throwing it, shattering it. At this point I was sobbing. He slid the door open and punched his bunk. I reached for him weakly but let my hand fall. I was shaking. The bus pulled into a lot and Clinton flung the door open and slammed it shut.

An hour later I was numbly staring at a wall confused and all out of tears. What did I do? Is it the Easton thing? It is my fault I need to leave. I'd leave tomorrow. I pick up all of my clothes and throw them in my bag set it down by the couch and laid down. I was asleep in minutes, exhausted from crying. I woke up at nine too cold and reaching for Clinton. When I didn't find him my memory returned. I wanted to cry but I needed to leave. I wasn't going to fuck up his life anymore with all of his drama and bullshit. Not even forty eight hours ago we we slept together just like every other night. Then out of nowhere I'm too much.

I should have known that from day one. I should've never agreed to come along. I should've have went home. There's so many things I did wrong I can't even count them all. I get up rubbing by eyes and throw on random clothes not caring what they were. I grabbed my bag double checking for everything and walked out of the editing room. When I closed the door I closed off all of the memories we made in the little time we had together. Blocking them and hardening my shell. Fuck him fuck this fuck Easton fuck life. I reached in the bathroom grabbing my brush and other things stuffing them in my bag. I knocked the mouthwash to the floor. I stayed perfectly still but I still heard two curtains open. I stepped out of the bathroom facing Mitchel and Christian. Mitchel turned and sighed. "Be careful okay? I'm not gonna beg you to stay. Call me if you need anything." He hugged me and stepped back. Kras doing the same. "Tell Jesse and Riley bye for me." They both nodded looking down awkwardly. I walked the rest of the five feet to the small living room thing. Clinton was on his laptop with earbuds in so loud I could hear every word. I knew he didn't hear my little three way conversation. I stepped further into the room and he looked up. When he looked at my eyes he flinched before turning his face to stone. "I'm leaving. I'm sorry for fucking up your life and I won't ever come back." He took an earbud out. "Huh?" Of course he didn't hear me. I shook my head and walked out of the door into the little parking lot of the gas station they had parked at for a rest period. The car I had called was waiting and I got in without looking back.

Clinton POV

When I looked up her eyes were lifeless and tired. I flinched knowing I did that to her. I paused my music in a swift motion so she couldn't see. "I'm leaving. I'm sorry for fucking up your life and I won't ever come back." She says her voice flat and scratchy. My blood turned to ice but I didn't react. I pulled out an earbud. "Huh?" Her face fell and her eyes turned moist before they shifted even darker than before. If that was even possible. She sucked in a breath and walked out. I watched her walk towards the car. Please look back. I begged her silently wanting nothing more than to see a sliver of hope that I didn't fuck it completely. She got in the car with out even glancing in the direction of the bus. I felt my knees give out not even realizing that I had walked to the window pressing my hand up against the glass. I hit the ground hard and hit the door feeling my skin tear and break on my knuckles. I sobbed once dryly forcefully grinding my fists into my eyes. I screamed out loud and locked my hands in my hair tugging at the roots. These stupid fucking outbursts. Always bottling shit up it's no ones fault but my own I fucked up. I hit the ground with all of the force I had denting the thin fake wood. Blood splattered on the floor where I tore the skin even more. I grabbed a bottle of jack, a lighter, my cigarettes and went into the editing room, locking the door and stripping of my shirt. I turned the speakers all the way up and took a swig.