Euronymous

Chapter Four

T/W - Alcohol use, mature themes

I shuffled awkwardly on the spot for a moment. Stay? I hardly knew anyone besides him and my brother.
Erik. I'll just find Erik. I figured I'd check the kitchen first since I was already inside. I saw people grabbing beers from the fridge and helped myself. If I decided not to stay, I would just give it to Erik.
I made my way out and found him standing off to the side of the bonfire, talking to a bunch of his friends. I recognised all of them, some more than others. They all greeted me and Erik spun around. "Are you staying?" He glanced down at the beer in my hand. I shrugged.
"Maybe, for a little bit." I scanned the scene, taking it all in.
Euronymous and Dead were being photographed by Metalion in front of the bonfire. I held back a giggle as I watched. He looked good. He looked in his element. The poses were theatrical and dramatic, but that's exactly what his alter ego was supposed to be. He exuded confidence, despite the fact that he appeared to have none 15 minutes ago as I was applying his face paint.
A group of girls arrived. They stuck out like a sore thumb against this pack of hyenas. It took exactly 0.002 seconds for the boys to realise there were girls here. I noticed Metalion introduced Øystein to one of them. I bit the inside of my cheek. It didn't matter.
I spent a few hours there, mindlessly watching Euronymous and his posse cause mayhem. It felt like I was studying him. He'd glance over every now and then, and I'd watch as something flickered in his eyes when he looked at me. I couldn't put my finger on what it was, but it felt like he wanted me watching. Dead was showing his own side of chaos, and it shouldn't have surprised me. For a boy with such an unsuspecting face and kind eyes, he was captivating and a little scary.
I watched as he grabbed a hand held saw, revving it in people's faces. Some jumped, others laughed and stood their ground. It made my stomach uneasy.
The next thing I heard was a loud bang and ringing, shattering glass. "Die, motherfucker!" Euronymous growled in a low voice. He'd shot his shotgun into the small side room of the house. My heart picked up a little. This had turned into a lot in a small amount of time.
I turned to Erik, but he was lost in conversation, clearly half cut with his friends. I stood, heading inside. There had to be a quiet room where I could just breathe for a few minutes. I pushed past people, most didn't realise I was even walking by them. Some were making out or having sex, others just talking, laughing, singing, you name it. It was a wild one, that was for sure. I can see why Erik hadn't wanted me here initially. Though I think after a few beers and some encouragement from his friends, he came around.
"C'mon, man. She's not a kid anymore! Let her live a little." One said.
I found my way upstairs, into a random bedroom. I couldn't tell whose room it was. The light bulb flickered, probably on its way out. There was a mattress on the floor, the walls were wooden, as were the floors. It was a mess, half eaten meals laid around, cigarette butts filled dirty coffee mugs. I wished I could crack the window, but I longed for the quiet.
"Elsie?" I jumped, surprised to find Pelle in the doorway.
"Pelle... Dead, sorry." I shook my head.
"Are you alright?" His voice seemed genuinely concerned, his eyes searching my face for answers while his face remained almost curious, but it was difficult to be sure under the corpse paint.
I smiled. "Yeah, I just needed a minute. I didn't realise how intense these parties could get." I ran my hand through my hair. So fucking naive. Why had I said that?
He stepped closer and looked around, but remained silent.
I took a breath. "This is your room?" I asked, glancing around. There was loose paper lying around, ripped and torn from notebooks with scribbles and writing on them. Some were scrunched up, others crinkled but still relatively flat.
"Euronymous." He stated. His voice was softer this time, and his glassy eyes searched mine. "Are you really okay?" He wondered.
My heart was still thudding but the distant sound of the party was becoming more tolerable again.
He was close and our eyes met again. He had very pretty eyes, even when bloodshot. They were a more intense blue than Øysteins, but beautiful and deep.
I stayed still, almost in a trance, mesmerised. His presence was calming - something I hadn't expected after his behaviour earlier. But I had to remember that it was a character. That was Dead. This was Pelle.
He leaned in slowly and I didn't stop him. His lips were soft. He was gentle, and he pulled away, the taste of stale smoke lingered for a moment.
I liked Pelle, but he wasn't who I wanted to kiss. A pang of guilt hit my stomach and I breathed out.
"Pelle, I'm sorry..." I started. He smiled reassuringly. "I was just curious." He shrugged and we chuckled. I was relieved that he understood, and that I didn't have to explain. We stared thoughtfully at one another for a moment before the sound of thudding footsteps filled the room. Surprised, I jumped back.
"Hey, get the fuck out of he-" Øystein slurred but stopped once he saw me. His make up was a mess, patchy and smudged.
Confusion caused his eyebrows to burrow and he looked... hurt.
"S-sorry." Was all I could manage. Pelle left without saying a word, Øystein moving aside in the doorway to let him through.
"Øystein... I-" he shook his head and laughed. It was forced.
"Euronymous." He corrected me. I looked down.
"Euronymous... nothing happened." I whispered.
"I wouldn't care if it did." He replied coldly, throwing an empty beer bottle aside. It clanked to the floor harshly and I winced.
That was the party over for me.