Setosolace- "The Past Bites Back"

Chapter One- REWRITE.

Jesus fucking christ I am so sorry but the writing in this book is so awful that I could never forgive myself if I wrote the last chapter and the writing style was extremely different from the rest of the book.

Let me get one thing straight, I, Taylor Nicole, started this book in the summer of 2014. July 10th, to be exact. And let me tell you one thing, and one thing that is very important.

I've been avoiding updating this book because I was ashamed of my shit writing.

Yes, I know that the writing in this book is (or was, because I'm deleting every old chapter in this book after I re-type them), absolutely shit, and I was so embarrassed that I kept you all waiting.

So, for the next week, I will be kicking myself in the ass about re-typing the chapters and then finally finishing this fucking book. Because it's what you all deserve for being there for me, and once again, I am so fucking sorry for not being there for all of you, so, without further ado, please let me breathe some life into this ol' gal.

Starting anew. Because all of the un-capitalized I's and poor detailing was driving me insane.

And, yes, I will be transferring this book into third person, sorry! It's just how I write now!

~

"Seto, I... I love you..." Silence. 

Brice felt himself freak out, Seto probably hated him now. He was so sure of it, I mean, who just sat there after being confessed to? He didn't even look phased. Brice felt his heart shatter, and he felt more than crushed. He felt betrayed, he felt used, even.

"Seto?" Nothing. Brice received nothing in return, but by the way he saw glassiness in Seto's eyes, he knew he had said something gravely wrong. 

"Please... Just," Brice felt his voice crack, his calm exterior snap. "Say something!"

Seto blinked, once, twice.

Silence.

Brice felt the first tear fall. It was hot, and the salt stung as it quickly rushed down his cheek. He didn't know how to react anymore. So, instead, he turned on his heel, and burnt rubber. He couldn't stand there anymore, he just couldn't. He needed to get out, to get away, to run. 

At first, when he slammed the door behind him, all he felt was sadness. It bubbled and swelled, like some sort of potion for trouble, until it fizzled out and something else burned molten. He was overtaken by a wave of white, hot, rage. And he just screamed. He screamed for everything. For pain, for sorrow, for emotion. For forgiveness. He screamed until suddenly he was on his knees and he just couldn't control the tears any longer, and he didn't know what to do anymore. He just cried until he had no tears left to be shed, and screamed until his throat was raw. 

Brice, as broken and shattered as he knew himself to be, begged his parents relentlessly. For therapy, for change. And when they didn't listen to him then, he peppered in some other things, and sprinkled in some more. He begged to move, to change schools. Claiming the city would deafen him before he turned twenty, that the same thing over and over again got boring. That the constant gray in a world full of pastel colors was bad for him, that it stumped his creativity. Boy, did his parents listen to him then. 

North Carolina.

They moved out in less than a week. It was like they never even existed in New York in the first place. It was perfect. His parents had already applied and gotten accepted for new jobs, and he'd already been enrolled into a new school. He kept everything down-low. Nobody knew why he wasn't at school the next day, or the day after. Or any day after that, to be exact. Maybe he disappeared, maybe he died, to them, who knows? 

No taxis. That was what Brice loved the most. No taxis to nearly kill him as he walked to get the milk his mom asked for. 

Seto, on the other hand, didn't know how to handle things quite right. He was 16 now, yes, but that didn't change much. It'd been months since he'd last seen Brice, and he had almost forgotten what his voice sounded like last week. Some called him depressed, others called him heartbroken. It didn't really matter. Not to Seto, at least. People could laugh at his pale skin, they could gawk at the bags under his eyes, and they could even tease him about being able to see the creases in his skin where his ribs protruded. He didn't care much. Not like he cared much to being with.

Sometimes he sat in the dark of his room, maybe a candle or two, if he wasn't practicing night vision; and other times he sat under the tree in his front yard. It never really mattered. Eat, sleep, shower, repeat. Eat, sleep, shower, repeat. Whatever he did with the time in-between was his choice, and if he chose to spend the time alone in the dark, then so be it. Most of the time he practiced his magic, if he felt like it. Invisibility. Teleporting. Shielding. Whatever he felt like at the time. 

He was actually practicing night vision, at the moment. The room illuminated with a soft and silky sea green color, and he felt calm. His room looked beautiful and alluring, like a vixen, and he loved it. It was nothing like the feeling he got when he looked at his room with the lights on. With the lights on, his room chanted and screamed at him with painful memories, every corner and shadow teasing him relentlessly. But, with this filter of vision, his room looked like it carried a secret that he wanted to know. It looked sweet, enchanting, even, and he reveled in the serene feeling it flooded him with. 

His mom interrupted it. 

She startled him, actually. He never heard her come up the stairs. 

She knocked gently on the door, and Seto stood up from where he sat on his carpet to answer it. When he did, his mother smiled sweetly at him. 

"Hi, dear." She looked tired, and worn. It was obvious she was stressed, and Seto suddenly felt guilt sink down into his throat, only for it to get stuck on his Adam's apple. 

"It's pitch black in here, could you turn on the lights, please?" It was meant to sound sassy, but the usual sass seemed to be drained from his mother's tone as she spoke, and even the laugh she followed the question with couldn't hide it. Seto was quick to click on the light, and the brightness assaulted his vision almost as quickly as he remembered he still had his night vision active.

His mother made hast into his room, sitting down on his bed with a heaving sigh. 

"We're moving." 

Seto felt himself go rigid as his night vision flickered away. 

"We're moving?" He echoed, not really sure he had heard her right.

"Yes, Seto. Moving." His mother gave him a forced smile. "I can't afford to live here anymore."

Seto felt himself nod, not really processing what he was being told.

"We're moving to North Carolina, Seto." 

He nodded again, scanning over his room as he did so. And, suddenly, he didn't seem to hate his room so much anymore. 

~

 So, pretty much, what I'll be doing is rewriting the whole book, is what I'm trying to say here.

If I'm not proud of it, I shouldn't publish it. I think I forgot that while writing this book. 

Anyways, as you can obviously tell, I cut a lot of things, and added a whole bitch-ton more. That's because too much speech doesn't really fit, and pretty much the whole chapter being in italics annoyed me. I removed the entire part describing Seto in the past, (including the conversation he had with his mother), and made him a lot less excited about the move. Also, I added a bit more Brice because with how the book was going I felt like he was getting neglected and the way he was so OOC made me feel like he was stupid when I reread what I had wrote. He also seemed like a bit of a douchebag, so I fixed that too, aha. Plus, I did mention that Seto was "A bit depressed" in the original write, but I never really went into extents, so I did that. 

So, that's really all. Hope you like the rewrite! <3

Also "Flesh" by Simon Curtis really helped me write this for some odd reason. :'D