I Breathe You In Like Smoke [Pierce The Veil- Mike Fuentes fanfic]

~Chapter 2~

Thanksies for the amazeballs cover photo serenasauce :'D

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~Chapter 2~

I smiled to myself. I was living the life; sunbathing on the rooftop of my penthouse apartment while listening to the beautiful voice of Orlando Bloom teaching me how to improve my sales. I loved Orlando Bloom audio books.

            My haven was suddenly interrupted by the sound of my phone ringing. I groaned and picked it up, answering the call and putting my phone on speaker.

            “Honey! It’s your mom, Stephanie! I’m just calling to tell you that me and your father are planning a family dinner. We’re bringing everyone together, so you better get excited. It’s at the end of the month, so mark your calendar!” Stephanie yelled all in one breath. Stephanie wasn’t my mother, she was my fourth stepmother since my real mom died when I was six.

            My dad was constantly trying to replace my mom all through my childhood, but girlfriend after girlfriend, wife after wife, no one could ever compare to my mom. It was hard growing up without her, but I learned to adapt.

            “You don’t have to say everything at once, Stephanie. This isn’t a voicemail,” I muttered, taking my sunglasses off and sitting up.

            “Oh right, I knew that. Well, I’ll see you at the end of the month, honey. And your siblings are all their bringing boyfriends and girlfriends so I hope that gives you some inspiration to finally bring someone home to us! Bye now!” Stephanie immediately hung up after her little spiel and I groaned.

            I had two older brothers and a younger sister. They all had girlfriends and a boyfriend and I had no one. There is a good reason for that; I’m too focused on my job. I don’t need a man when I’m working so often. And my last boyfriend, the one in the band, broke my heart.

            I grabbed all of my things and went back inside. I had a quick shower and wrapped myself in my fluffy housecoat. I didn’t want to leave the house today, but I had to have another interview with those stupid Key Street boys. The thought of it stresses me out more than anything.

            I got my secret stash of cigarettes and my lighter from my bedroom and went onto my private balcony. I knew that smoking was the single most disgusting thing you could do to your body next to getting tattoos, but it was honestly the best stress-reliever I could find.

            Working with my dad puts me under a lot of stress, and I find that smoking helps it. When he’s constantly blabbering on about how I’m part of the most important generation of the family and I’m his favourite child it doesn’t necessarily make me feel good.

            Once I finished my cigarette I went back inside to get dressed for the day. I put on a white blouse and a black pencil skirt with classy black heels and perfect winged eyeliner. I finish my look with my perfect chestnut brown curls falling down my back and grabbed my clutch, finally heading out the door.

Once I get to work, I immediately don’t want to be there. Derek informed me that the Key Street boys got here two minutes earlier than me so my dad will give me a half an hour long lecture about being on time.

            I walked into the conference room and found everyone sitting around the table, waiting for me. I mentally slapped myself before taking my seat at the head of the table.

            “Sorry I’m so late, but let’s begin, shall we?”

            “Actually, I think it’s already time for our break. We’ll see you in ten minutes on the dot so we can actually start the meeting all together,” Jaxin said, standing up and leading all of the boys out the door. Once they left me alone in the room I listened as they laughed as they walked down the hall.

            I felt myself holding back tears, which doesn’t happen very often. Over the years, I’ve taught my emotions to be very numb. I don’t cry much, and I don’t get too overly angry. I stay moderate, but dealing with boys is hard sometimes.

            I got up and left the conference room and went up to the roof of the building. This was where I went if I’m at work and I need a stress-reliever. Everything I need is always in my clutch.

            When I got to the roof, I see someone’s back. There was someone leaning against the wall, also smoking a cigarette. I recognized the trashy haircut and baggy clothes as Mike.

            I pretended not to be phased by him and stood next to him, taking my pack of cigarettes out of my clutch and taking one out of the package. Then I grabbed my lighter and lit it, breathing in the toxins.

            “Wow, I didn’t see that one coming,” Mike said, turning to me.

            “I’m not a predictable girl, Mike,” I said, staring down at the road below us. The busy city was at the peak of the day, and the streets were flooded with cars and the sidewalks were crowded with people.

            “I strongly doubt that,” he muttered, turning back to staring at the road as well. There was something about his voice that was really sexy, but I refuse to think that because he’s a douche bag.

            “If you couldn’t predict that I’m a smoker, you probably cannot predict anything else about me,” I shot. There was no way he was going to talk down to me without me getting the last word in.

            “I know that you’re a closet smoker. You don’t want anyone to know you’re smoking because your dad would kill you. The only reason why you’re smoking around me is because I’m also smoking and you think I don’t have the guts to tell your dad myself.” He smirked as he took a drag from his cigarette and blew the smoke into the air.

            I clamped my mouth shut, trying to think of something I could counter to that. He was pretty much right, and I hated that. “I know you don’t have the guts to tell my dad because I’m sure deep, deep down in the pits of your heart, you’re a semi-nice person.”

            Mike laughed hoarsely. “If that’s what you think it is, then go ahead and think that. It’s not your fault you aren’t a pro mind reader like me.” Oh, now he’s adding a little humour into this conversation? I can do humour.

            “Bullshit. You probably learning everything you know from watching Harry Potter on repeat everyday because you have no social life outside of your band.” I smirked to myself.

            Now it was his turn to clamp his mouth shut. “Ok, you win this round,” he said before putting out his cigarette butt and dropping it on the ground. He made his way back inside as I also put out my cigarette butt, sprayed on some perfume and popped a breath mint before following him inside.

This session with the boys went slightly better than yesterday, only because yesterday was barely anything. At least we kind of did something this time.

            When I got home there was one thing I was itching to do. I pull my Macbook out and opened Wikipedia. I quickly typed in Key Street, which than escalated to Pierce The Veil and Fearless Records.

            I went on Youtube and before I knew it, it was midnight and I had killed almost six hours stalking Pierce The Veil. I needed to be educated about them before I did anything else with them.

            It was weird, the whole time we were around each other, they never once mentioned anything about their band and that they were pretty much millionaires. That was when I realized that maybe they aren’t so bad, but I still hate them.