• ALL I WANTED - PARAMORE
»-☠︎︎-+>
☠︎︎ 𝚃𝙾𝙼'𝚂 𝙿𝙾𝚅
It had been a good few days. Somewhere around a week or two. I hadn't seen Mandy at all, not since the accident. But I was just too angry, too stressed to deal with it.
Well, kind of anyway.
The pictures of Mandy were still up, and of course, Klara was keeping close watch now. I know she did it. Who else would have? No one knew Mandy well enough to hate her like that.
I was getting spammed with calls and texts from her on MySpace, or just on my phone in general. She wasn't just teasing us, she was stalking me with her fucked little friends. And fuck, don't get me started on the slander and threats.
"You can't be angry at Mandy forever." Bill said, his cigarette between his fingers and the smoke lingering once he took a drag, his cheekbones visible. I shrugged my shoulders, looking away. "What, you think I'll complain like a little bitch? She can do what she wants, man. I'm not her fucking keeper." I replied as I walked past the paparazzi.
Maybe I did want to see Mandy. Maybe I wanted to just act as if she isn't a selfish cunt for 15 minutes. Or maybe I was just in a vulnerable mood. I always was when I thought of her, from the start, really. I wanted her. But I just wasn't sure if I could have her.
"Hi, Tom!" One of the fans called out as I signed their cd's and papers. "Hi," I said back as I glanced at her, then back down to the other person who was hitting the bus and screaming threats. I sighed, and looked at our bodyguard.
»-☠︎-+>
☠︎︎ 𝙼𝙰𝙽𝙳𝚈'𝚂 𝙿𝙾𝚅
I didn't bother going to any of their concerts. I was so tired and sore, barely anything had healed. I was sure I broke a few ribs-- maybe the two middle fingers on my right hand. The bruising was abnormal. From my head to my ankles.
Seb and Mario were worried. I think Mario was shitting himself, considering I haven't come out of my room for two weeks and I didn't say a single word. In the meantime, I just showered, hoping the scratches and bruises would wash away and go down the drain like the rest of my problems. They didn't.
I stood in the bathroom, infront of the mirror, my shirt up while I pressed ice on my inflamed ribs. I couldn't move, I couldn't breathe in or out, I couldn't even have a smoke.
"Mandy, school." Seb walked by the bathroom, not caring to shoot one glance at me as he took a swig of his beer.
I never liked it when he drank in the morning. But he was still pissed. But of course, he was worried at the same time which led him to. He didn't know about what happened; I plan to keep it like that.
My hands went to my shirt, pulling it off and setting the small bag of melted ice to the side. I headed out of the bathroom and into my room, my arms securely around my ribs as if they were on their last strings.
There was still the bitter taste of my own stomach acid and blood lingering on my tongue from this morning. Once I had my ribs kicked in, I felt sick since. It was never a good feeling.
I walked to my closet, slowly unhooking my bra as I pulled it down my arms, and started searching my closet.
☠︎︎ 𝚃𝙾𝙼'𝚂 𝙿𝙾𝚅
My eyes were stuck on her as I pulled on my shirt, noticing how skinny she had become compared to the clothes she wore just months ago. My eyes drifted down her body, focusing on the bruising on her pale skin before I watched her turn to pull on a tank top, my eyebrows furrowing at the sight of her bruised ribs.
And then, again, I watched her carefully. My eyes lingered on her body, my fingers twitching before I turned away.
Fuck, I hated feeling like this.
"Bill, lets go," I sighed, walking out of my room and turning to face him. "Lets go lets go lets go."
YOU ARE READING
The girl next door, - ᴛ.ᴋᴀᴜʟɪᴛᴢ
Lãng mạnA raw and revealing look into the urban adolescence of 2007. Sex, drugs, and mischief, including five foreigners looking for any kind of colour in their no-good lives. ★ »-☠︎︎-+> 𝖛𝖔𝖙𝖊𝖋𝖔𝖗𝖐𝖆𝖚𝖑𝖎𝖙𝖟 1 on #tomka...