Run Away From The Pain

Always Start Again.

"Pull over!" I yelled to the Ralph, as we drove through the streets of Austin, Texas.
It was late, probably around 9 or 10, and one of the store front's caught my eye.

"What?" Steven looked at me, with a questioning expression. "What's wrong?"

"You'll see!" I grinned, as Ralph pulled the bus over, and opened the doors.
I flew out of the large bus, and sprinted down the street, to where I saw the shoppe I was looking for. 

As I barged in through the doors, I noticed the shoppe was relatively empty, and it was clear that they were about to close.

"You willing to take one last customer, before closing?" I begged the scruffy looking biker behind the counter. 

"Depends what you want.." His gravely voice sent a chill down my spine. 
Just as I began to explain what I wanted, the band, including Ralph all burst through the door.

"You stopped us so you could get a tattoo?!" Steven was so out of breathe, he was weezing. 

"Yep." I grinned wildly, as they all stood and stared at me in disbelief. 
The bewilderment in Steven's eyes was quickly replaced, and a large smirk danced across his pale lips. 

"Well since we're here... I think I'll get one too." He smiled. 

"I was here first!" I chuckled, and turned back to the biker. "I'm ready."

All he did was nod, and lead me into one of the back, dimly lit rooms.
I sat down on the cold leather of the chair, and pulled my shirt over, and off my head, so I was sitting in just my bra. 
As I did so, Steven and Joe strolled into the small room. 
Steven wide eyed, and Joe smirking like a dog. 

"Out!" I smiled deviously. "The both of you.. until I'm done."

"You're not gonna let me see it?" Steven pouted playfully.

"Nope." I chuckled, as they both turned and walked out of the room. 
For a moment, I heard some faint whispering, and then the door opened again.
This time, Ralph poked his head in, then followed by pulling his whole body into the room, and shutting the door behind him.

"What? Does Steven not trust me to be alone?" I scoffed.

"I heard that!" His adorable voice was muffled by the closed door.
All I could do was giggle and roll my eyes.

I heard the vibrating of the needle, and moments later, a sharp stabbing pain surged through my rib cage. 
The pain diluted after a while, and I became numb. 
Either it stopped hurting, I got used to it, or it was never really that bad to begin with, considering I've felt worse pain before. 

"I'm surprised..." The biker broke the dull silence, and struck up a conversation, while continuing with his artwork. "Most chicks freak out about the pain, but you're doing pretty well... Didn't even flinch once."

"Let's just say, I've got a high tolerance for pain." I smirked.

It seemed like another half hour before the faint hum of the needle stopped, and a cool lotion was rubbed across the left half of my rib cage. 
I gasped at how cold the cream actually was, but quickly got over it. 

"Okay, Ma'am," The biker, who's name I learned was Mike. "You're all done. There's a mirror over there." He said, pointing to the door.
I turned my head, and saw there was, infact, a large mirror hanging on the back of the door. 

I stood up, and slowly walked over to it, then I lifted up my arm, and inspected my rib cage.
The smooth black letters were vibrant against my porcelain skin, and were red and raised around the edges.
It looked really good.

"It's so sick!" I gasped. "Thanks!"

"No problem, kid." Mike smiled. "You can put your shirt back on, if you want."

"Yeah, thanks." I smiled, and pulled my black tank back on over my head, and slipped on the red flannel, I was wearing, over it. 
When I was finished getting dressed, I opened the door, to find Steven anxiously leaning against the door frame. 

"Didn't you get one too?" I asked, looking him up and down, for any signs of new ink. 
He smiled, and rolled up the sleeve of his shirt, to expose a colorful work of art stretching across his bicep. 
It was a gorgeous blue eye, speared by a long black stick, with vibrant scarves dangling off the top of the spear. 

"It's beautiful!" I stood, astonished.

"What's your's?" He asked, anxious to see what I got.
I grinned and pulled up the tanktop underneath my unbuttoned flannel, revealing my ribcage.
and the large black letters, which read. 
"مهما كان صعبا في الماضي، يمكنك أن تبدأ دائما مرة أخرى"

He looked at me eagerly. 
"Alex, it's beautiful, but......" He paused, trying to decipher it. "It's not even english... what is it?"

I reached into my pocket, and took out the strip of paper my father handed to me, when he came to speak with me, after I fought with them; just before we left Colorado Springs. 

"It's Samarinian..." I smiled, looking down at the note. "It says: No Matter How Hard The Past, You Can Always Start Again."

When my father explained to me, what the language was, and what the quote meant, I instantly knew I needed this tattoo. 

"That's.. that's...." He was at a loss for words.

"The perfect quote pertaining to my entire life story?" I smirked. "Yeah... I know."

With a warm smile, and a quick peck on the cheek, Steven grabbed my hand, and lead me out of the back hallway, so we could pay for our tattoos.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I rolled over, and winced as I brushed the sore skin on my rib cage, against the bed sheets. 

We were in Austin, Texas, staying at one of the nicest hotels here. 

I carefully got up from my place, wincing with each slight movement I made that effected my torso.

"Sore?" Steven opened his beautiful chocolate brown eyes, and gazed at me with concern. 
"A little." I smiled, and winced again as I stood up and out of bed. 

"It'll fade." He smiled, and grabbed my hand, pulling me back down onto the bed.
He gave me tender kissed along my jaw bone, down my neck, and onto my chest.
He stopped and lifted up my t-shirt, and planted light, soft kissed on, and around the area that I got my tattoo. 
His lips then found mine, and our tongues colided, dancing a sensual tango. 

"Shall we go shower, princess?" He smirked, and kissed my nose. 
All I could do was glower at him.

"How about I go shower, and you wait until I get out..." I rolled my eyes, and hopped out of bed, dashing my way towards the bathroom, in a giggling fit, as Steven chased me. 

Luckily, I managed to reach the white tiled room in time to close the door, and lock it, before he was able to catch up with me.

"Come on, babe... please just open the door..." He pouted, and knocked lightly. 

Out of spite, I began to sing One Way Street, loud enough that he could hear it, but soft enough that I wouldn't completely embarass myself. 
I stripped out of my pajamas, and turned on the shower, quickly diving in and letting the warm water wash over me. 

After I washed all the suds out of my hair, and off of my body; I shut the water off, and wrapped a large fluffy towel around myself, letting my wet hair hang down behind me. 

Being as stealthy as I could, I opened the door, and peeked my head out to make sure Steven wasn't hiding, trying to scare me. 
Though I expected it, I still screamed bloody murder when he popped out from around the corner.

"Boo!" He giggled like crazy, as I stretched my vocal chords to their maximum capacity. 

"Jesus fucking Christ, Steven!" I clutched my chest, as a million and one galloping horses made their way through the central cavity in my torso. 
All he could do was laugh and wrap an arm around my waist, and pull me into him for a passionate kiss.

"Ooh... What's this?" He smirked, and gripped my towel with one hand, while continuing to wrap his arm around my fragile waist. With a quick tug, my cloak was gone, and I was completely vunerable. "Oops.." 
He chuckled, and clutched my hips, pulling me into him.
With a swift movement, he picked me up, so I could wrap my legs around his hips, and he carried me back to the bed. 

He laid me down, and began to trail kisses everywhere on my body.
He flipped himself over and sat up, so I was straddling him; I helped him shrug out of his shirt, and boxers, leaving him just as exposed and vunerable as I am.

With a small thrust, and a gentle moan, I could feel him, just like I had the first time we made love, back in the bus a few days ago. 

Before long, things heated up, rather quickly. 
"Steven.." I gasped. 

"Mmmm" Was all he could moan in responce. 

"Steven... I think someone's a-at the door!" I groaned. 
The timing was exquisite, because there was a knock on the door, followed by Joe's sly voice.

"Steven, you crazy motherfucker! Wake up!" He was chuckling, but something about his voice suggested he was angry, or stressed. "Alex, get your damn boyfriend out of bed!" 

I looked into Steven's eyes, and tried to stiffle my laughter, but to no avail. 
I giggled like a mad man, and no doubt Joe heard me.

"The fuck are you doing in there?" He began laughing.

"Stop cockblocking, you sick fuck!" Steven yelled to the door, and then returned his full attention to me. 

"Jesus christ..." I heard Joe sigh, "Well hurry up, and finish.. We've got to get to the studio..." 
Seconds later, his footsteps faded away. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I closed the door behind Steven and I, as we headed out of the hotel room, and the moment I glanced up, I looked directly into Joe's smoldering brown eyes. 

"Had fun?" He couldn't help but wink, and laugh loudly, which quickly gained the attention of all the other guys.
When they realized the topic of discussion, they all joined in on Joe's jeering. 

"Oooohhh... Alex." Tom raised his eyebrows up and down, playfully.
Brad whistled a long cat call, while Joey giggled like a school boy. 

"Shut up, you whores." I laughed along with them

"Ohh, look who's talking.." Tim Collins appeared behind the group, with an amused smirk on his face. 

"Now, you really can shut the fuck up.." I growled. "My sex life has nothing to do with you..."
Whenever Tim was around, my mood went down hill..... fast.

"Ouch.." Joe hissed, jokingly. 

After that, we made our way down to the lobby in an awkward silence.
The car ride to the studio was dragged out, and obnoxious. 
Of course, I didn't mind Steven, and Joe fooling around like they always did, while Joey, and Tom were deep in conversation. Brad had rolled, and lit a joint, which I snagged from him, and was currently sucking on the sweet smoke of mary-jane.
Tim pulled out a baggie of white powder, and laid out some lines on the dashboard, then proceeded to snort them up. 

"Hey! How about you send some of that SUGAR my way, huh Tim?" Steven squealed, almost as if he was reaching a high note in one of his songs. 
Tim grinned, and laid out a line on the sleeve of a 13' vinyl record, and then carefully passed the record back, so Steven could sniff up the intoxicating sweetness. 

I noticed his eye dialate right after he inhaled, and I knew the Steven I was used to, was gone... just for a bit. 
I figured I should join him, so I wouldn't have to be alone... I was due for a fix, after all of this bullshit I've been dealing with. 

"Hey, babe... wanna lay one out for me?" I batted my lashes, and put on my sweetest most manipulative smile. 
Unfortunately for the rest of the human population, my eyes were haunting, and when I fanned my extremely long lashes, and gave a puppy dog pout, there was no turning back; no one could resist me. 

He grinned like the Cheshire Cat, and took the baggie from Tim, and laid out two more lines. 
I took the joint out of my mouth, and leaned in close to him, releasing the sweet smelling smoke into his perfect face. 

Then, I leaned down to his lap where the record sleeve was resting, inches from his, and quickly snorted up the sugar. 

"That's fucking sexy.." Joe gasped. 
"God damn..." Tim added on. 

Steven just sat staring at me in shock. 
"Mmmm.." Was all he could manage to mumble. 

I sat back in my seat, with a smug grin on my face, and a nice J hanging from between my lips.
About 5 minutes later, we were all clambering out of the car, and piling into the lobby of the recording studio. Steven reached down and grabbed my hand, interlocking his fingers with mine. 

We were eventually lead down this little hallway, and into the actual studio where we were set to record. 
I noticed a bathroom directly across the hall from where the studio was.

"Hey, I'll meet you in there in a minute... I'm gonna just go to the bathroom really quickly." I smiled, and unwound my fingers from his. 

With a nod, and a grin, all of the boys headed into the studio, and I, in the opposite direction, towards the girls bathroom. 

After I finished using the restroom, I stood in front of the mirror, looking at my complexion, and washing my hands, when suddenly the lights flickered off. 
I froze with fear.

"Calm down, Alex..." I mumbled to myself, "It's just a power outage.. Just find your way to the door.."
I sighed heavily, and turned around, into something hard. 

"Ow... fuck that hurt.... fucking wall." I clutched my forehead, hoping I wouldn't bruise. 

"I hate the dark... I fucking hate the dark." I kept muttering a semi-soothing mantra. 

"Well... atleast I'm alone.." I said again.

"And what makes you think that?" A second voice called out.

"STEVEN!" I screeched at the top of my lungs. "OH FUCK STEVEN! JOE! SOMEONE HELP ME!"

"They can't hear you pumpkin.." The voice squawked. 
It sounded familiar, but it wasn't..

This voice didn't sound like him... this voice was much more nasally, and he had a bit of a lisp, or speech imediment. 

"W-who the fuck are you..?" I stuttered, trying to sound as composed as I could. 

"Oh.. you know me..." The voice laughed manically.
The door burst open, and a ray of light beamed in from the hallway, illuminating the dark tiles of the room. 
A part of the light illuminated his dark face..
Yeah... he was a male alright, but I couldn't make out his features.. I didn't know who it was, and as far as I knew, he was still in a coma. 

"Alex?!" Steven called out to me. 

"Steven! Someone's in here!" I turned my head towards Steven, who flicked on the lights, and ran to my side, holding me.

"Alex...." He muttered. "No one's in here..."

"Yes there i-" I paused looking around the now empty room. "I swear to god I'm not going crazy... there was someone just in here..." 

"Maybe it was a bad joint, and a few wrong lines of blow... sometimes that shit can seriously fuck you up.." He sighed. "Come on, let's get back into the studio, so you're not alone.."

For the remaider of the day, I sat on the large couch of the sound room, while the band recorded a few more songs for the new album, one of which, was about me. 
It's called Last Child, and was based off the joke Brad and I made, the night I went out to dinner with my biological parents.

As much fun as it was sitting in on the recording sesh, and as much as it made me forget about the day's events; It never fully gave me an escape from the harsh reality that I'm still being followed, by whoever is out there..

"Yeah, so how are ya, Robbie? Feelin' betta?" I heard Tim's obnoxiously thick New York accent, from across the room, as he was on the phone.

Then... it hit me like a ton of bricks. 

Robbie....
Robbie Haneran.
R.H..

Robbie Haneran is Richard Hainsworth.
Tim Collins is the insider.
He's the one who's been breaking him out.
He's the one who's been giving him all of the places we'd be, and the hotels we were staying at.

He's, more or less, my assassin.