I HATE U - a.k.a: P.Dot's Revenge.

PROLOGUE: Chainsmoking

It's been two weeks since the last time Pico spoke to Keith. Since the last time he even thought of that stupid blue-haired bucket-headed bitch.

(Because he knows that if he stops and thinks about it for a second, he'll break.)

This way, he can at least pretend to be over it. He can pretend that waking up alone every morning doesn't make him sick, he can pretend that his heart doesn't race every time someone mentions that new bitch he's been replaced with, how he fights for her. He can pretend that his gun hasn't been looking an awful lot like a way out recently.

He knew it was coming. That's the worst part. Keith moved on before it was even over, leaving him in pieces without a second thought. It makes him wonder, really, if they even would've broken up if he hadn't asked him about it. If he would've just carried on being cold, being with her, texting her about how stupid and clingy his little boyfriend was. He wonders if he would've just cheated. He wonders if he was cheating.
He takes a walk to clear his head, which is really just another excuse to walk down to the liquor store down on the westside. Drinking is the only way to get himself to some semblance of peace nowadays, and he's not proud of that. Five years sober, gone. He got sober for Keith, wasted his time getting clean and working on himself and ignoring his own friends and his own life and his own needs, all for nothing. He balls his fists as his sneakers thunk against the pavement. It's ridiculous. This is what he gets for getting attached.

"You're acting different, and you think I can't see it," He shouts, knuckles white with the effort it takes not to just punch him. The way Keith looks at him, that cold, unfeeling glare, it shoots a visceral pain through his chest, worse than a thousand bullets could ever feel.

"I met a girl, okay? Is that what you wanted to hear?"

His heart stops, chest tightening in shock. A girl? He met a girl, so what? He doesn't love him anymore?

"You- What?" He stammers, gagging on his own words, stomach in knots as Keith rolls his eyes once again.

"I was at a bar, doing promo stuff, and- She was pretty, okay? She was- is- one of the most beautiful women i've ever met."

Pico really does throw a punch then, his fist slamming right into the drywall beside him.

"You're fucking kidding, right? Right? You cheated on me?!" He screams, the other man flinching from across the room.

"I didn't cheat! I gave her my number, and we've been talking, but I never cheated-"

"You gave a woman your number, you've been talking- You've got to be fucking kidding," Pico hisses, tears filling his eyes and he pulls his bleeding hand from the hole in the wall. He hasn't done something like that in years. He hasn't even threatened violence, not even as a joke.

"Baby, please just calm down-"

"Calm down? You want me to calm down?!"

He doesn't even feel bad about it. He's over there making excuses for himself, like he's not the bad guy- why should Pico have to be calm?
"

I'm leaving," He huffs, storming away. Keith, in a panic, runs after him, grabbing his wrist tight, pulling him back.
"Baby, please wait- I'm sorry, I'm seriously so sorry-"

"You're not fucking sorry, " he snarls, snapping his hand out of Keith's grip with arguably too much force. His head is spinning as he screams, tears beginning to stream down his face.