Band One-Shots {VOL. 1 COMPLETE}

Tyson Ritter; Imagine

"I'm sick of this, Tyson."

He rolled his eyes, reclining on the couch.

"You think you can just walk in here with some flowers every fucking time you do something wrong?" you said, throwing the flowers on the table, pointing to them as if they were the most disgusting thing you had ever seen.

"Listen babe,"

"Don't you dare fucking babe me."

You were sick of Tyson running wild with girls behind your back.

"Shut the fuck up." he said, sitting up quickly, his eyes wide in attentive anger.

"You'll wait for me. You always do. No matter where I go, or who I'm with, you'll wait. You always have, ever since we were teens." he said, venom in every word.

"Fuck you, 'I'll wait'!" You screamed.

"You stay here for such short amounts of time, and the bands not even doing anything right now. I check Tyson, I know!" you screamed.

"Fuck off, will you?" he groaned.

"Just get the fuck out! If you cant clean yourself up and be actually devoted, then fuck off!" You shouted, water welling in your eyes.

"All you ugly girls blend in. You all look so pretty." he said.

"I said, fuck off!" You shouted, taking a step towards him.

He stood up.

He approached you slowly, an unreadable seething emotion in his eyes.

"Next time you-"

You tried to push him and hit him, he grabbed your wrist, punning you against the wall with his body.

"Next time you look out that fucking  window, you wont see me." he said between clenched teeth in a low, quiet tone as he struggled to keep you still.

"You're better off alone. You're better off dead, you fucking prick." you spat back.

He pushed you, throwing your hands down as he turned away from you, slamming the door as he left.

~~~

You sat on your couch, watching the new music video from The All-American Rejects.

It was called Bee-Keeper's Daughter.

You were disgusted by all the imagery and lyrics that you immediately associated with yourself.

Everything you mentioned was in the video.

You felt angry tears flood into your eyes.

You grabbed your keys, you needed to speak to him.

Or at least, yell at him.

As you went to his apartment, you couldn't help but he unsettled by how good the song was, and how fucking attractive he was.

When he laid back on that car.

Fuck him, you thought.

He was a devil.

You made it to his apartment, and knocked on the door angrily.

To your surprise, though you didn't have much time to be surprised, your mutual, and his band mate Nick Wheeler answered the door.

"Where the fuck is he?" you asked, tears pouring down your cheeks.