(Don't) Leave Me Alone •twenty one pilots-Tyler Joseph•

twenty//i'm tired of your rules

||Charlotte Robin Dun|| First Person||

"Um," I hear a voice say, breaking through my hazy barrier of unconsciousness and making my eyes snap open almost immediately. I must have fell asleep accidentally. "Sorry, did I wake you?"

I sit up slowly, stretching my arms above my head as Tyler's hoodie falls into my lap lightly. The fabric thick with his scent seems to have made my jacket smell distinctly like him, which makes sense considering that we were hugging not too long ago. "No, it's okay. Marie probably expects me soon, anyways." I glance over at the alarm clock on the nightstand that separates the two twin sized beds from one another. The time informs me that I was asleep for ten minutes. Funny how easily Tyler's scent could lull me to sleep so easily. Maybe I should keep this for emergencies, I think as I pick up his sweater and push it into my duffle bag again. The girl, who dons hair so red it looks almost purple, stands awkwardly in the doorway, twiddling her thumbs nervously. She has a small smile curling her mouth up at the corners as she looks at her sneakers, and that's when I notice what she's wearing. The girl is dressed in a pair of navy skinny jeans, a pair of low top black Converse, and ironically, a twenty øne piløts t-shirt. "Twenty one pilots, huh?" I try to make small talk, nodding towards her outfit. She blinks in confusion before she looks down at her shirt, seemingly remembering what she's wearing.

"Love them," she smiles. "Josh Dun is a gorgeous creature." I have to refrain from snorting, simply letting out a light laugh at her joke. My brother.

"How about that Tyler Joseph, hm?" I smile thinking about him, and the girl laughs, dipping her head slightly.

"Beautiful, man." She finally takes a step into the room, comfortably striding across the carpeted floor before plopping down on her bed. "I see you're wearing too many layers, right now." She notes, gesturing to my whole body. I look down at my leather jacket over my grey GLAMOUR KILLS hoodie. It was overkill, but considering that I left Ohio at four in the morning when it felt like the fuckingg tundra, it was a reasonable clothing choice. I haven't gotten the chance to change my outfit, to which I let out a laugh.

"Just got here from Ohio, man. It was cold," I explain to her. She nods in understanding, turning her head to look back at the hallway revealed by the door.

"That's so cool; you live in the same place as Josh and Tyler? Imagine seeing them on the street," she bites her bottom lip before she snaps out of her daze, looking at me expectantly. "Chicago Mia. You?" She introduces herself.

"Uh, Charlotte Robin." I say shyly, rubbing the back of my neck slightly. "But call me Robin." I look up at Chicago, who grins and nods her head.

"I know what it feels like- people wanting something for you when it's the complete opposite of what you truly want." She looks down at her chipping black nail polish, pretending to inspect them. "Kinda like this shit hole."

"Sorry?" I ask. "How long have you been here?"

"This morning, way too early." She rolls her eyes and lets out a huff. "You came earlier than the others did, I give you that. 11 AM," she glances at the alarm clock with her nose scrunched up.

"So, does everyone hate each other here, or what?" I ask her.

"Too early to tell, man." She shrugs her shoulders. "We got a problematic bunch, I can tell you that. A hoard of anxious, depressed, rebellious teens, y'know? I bet the administrators are getting the meds ready," She slaps her hands against her thighs and pushes herself up to her feet. "Well, we better get going before Miss Elena shits herself waiting for us." I let out a laugh despite not knowing who the hell a Miss Elena is. Probably one of the heads.

"Um," I look back hesitantly to my duffel bag, more specifically the hoodie that is one of the few physical connections that I have with me to Josh and Tyler. I let out a sigh. "I'm gonna change first, 'kay?" Chicago nods her head before she turns around and heads for the door, waiting by it while I unzip my jacket and then my sweater, peeling the layers of clothing off. I pull off my black tank top, shoving the clothes into my duffle bag before yanking out a grey v-neck and pulling it on over my head. I cross the room, patting the back pockets of my black skinny jeans habitually, feeling for the cell phone that's back home in Ohio on my bedroom desk. I sigh tiredly and follow Chicago out into the hall, trying to find something to do with my hands which are typically jammed in the pockets of a sweatshirt that I can't wear in this heat. I settle for crossing my arms over my chest and narrowing my eyes. If I'm going to be stuck in this place for two and a half months, I may as well live up to my behavioural problems.