Chapter 7

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•Charlie's POV•

"Wow," she whispers, laying on her back. "You're amazing."

"I can say the exact same," I beam at her, flipping onto my side.

"Can my gangster cuddle?" She jokes, turning away from me, and I pull her back to my chest.

"He can do anything," I whisper in her ear, and I sense her blush without seeing it.

We lay there for a few minutes in each other's arms before I drift asleep.

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A/N:

I felt like the story was just all happy and kind of annoying. So most Hollywood Undead fanfictions involve a runaway, drugs, alcohol, or self harm. I know it's probably pretty expected but I feel like it really gives the stories depth and I wanted mine to have some back story. I personally am not a constantly happy person so I enjoy writing this kind of stuff. Continue to enjoy(:

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•Jade's POV•

I can feel my vision starting to creep closed from the outside, getting darker and darker while it fades to sleep.

Jade, stop this. You're being an idiot. You can't sleep while he's here, you know what happens!

But my body protests the pleads of my self conscience and I drift, sleep tugging at me and taking me.

•Dream•

"Get back here you whore!" I can hear my dad shouting from downstairs as he throws all the objects off the table in frustration but I've shut the door to my room, clutching my cheek. I need to black him out, I need to. I go into my bathroom to grab my razors, there's not a better distraction in the world.

It takes me by surprise to see my brother, Luke, standing there holding them.

"What the fuck are you doing in my room?" I almost shout.

"It's good you do this," he says, picking them up. "At least you know you're a peice of shit, it's not like you're living a lie." He leaves me in the bathroom alone, tossing the replacement razors I hid onto the bed as he leaves my room.

I sob into my hands, waiting about an hour until the house is quite. I'm used to this shit. My mom left when she got sick of my dad coming home drunk and hurting her, the bitch left me here.

I punch a number into my phone, calling my boyfriend.

"Hello?" Kyle picks up, and I cry softly into the phone. "Oh, Jade? This shit again? Call me when you're done overreacting. They're not even bad to you."

"We're done, you oblivious fucking dick."

I crawl on my bed, tossing my phone at the wall across from it. Honestly, Jade, how did you think any of your brother's friends would be so much better than him that you could actually date.

I take this from everyone. Every worthless fucking man in my life. I don't need them, I don't need anyone.

It's a week before university. I lay on my back and think about everything I've done to get this. I knew I couldn't stay here any longer. A week, I'd manage. More years, not a chance. It's Los Angeles, born and raised when the city went down hill. It wasn't hard to find ways to make money. I wanted something that wouldn't fuck up my life so I could still actually do well at school and make something of myself. Drugs. I didn't take them, ok sometimes, but I sell them. I help distribute and basically keep everyone stocked. At least it's not prostitution.

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