With You. (Bennoda One Shot)

With You (Chester's Point Of View)

I stare at my many posters of different bands plastered on my wall, all of them together look like this one huge collage. But, I have more Stone Temple Pilots than any other band. I believe that Scott is the closest thing to a God you can get physically close to.

Which reminds me, I flip the cassette from side A to side B, I'm currently listening to their album, Purple, on my small cassette Walkman.

In my corner eye I notice the sky becoming a light blue color, my alarm clock is going to go off in three.. two.. one.. I jump a bit, it scares me every single time. No matter if I wake up before it, no matter how many times I know it's going to go off. It still makes me jump.

I lean over a flip the button down to make it stop screaming, and I lay back down. Letting my head hit my soft black pillow. I remove my head phones once I see my door opening.

"Chester, get ready for school. If you're late, I'm kicking your ass." My father threatens loosely.

It's just his version of 'Good Morning' I guess. Funny thing is, I was only late once out of the first two months that school started. And it hasn't happened ever since.

I get out of my bed, removing the warm blanket away from my now freezing body after I hear my door fully close, and foot steps down the stairs.

Clothes is pretty simple for me, I dress how I feel, and how I want. How to basically describe my whole style is complex, because one day I'll be super insane with multiple spikes, and chains all over my body, then the next I look like a complete Grunge band member wannabe with dirty ass clothes from the day before, and natural messy hair from sleeping.

This time, I go for the first option. I get out my tight red and black plaid pants with several chains hanging from them, and a normal black shirt with Depeche Mode's logo safety pined on the center. The logo came from a very holey shirt from years ago, I just cut out the small logo, and just took a bunch of safety pins to pin it on.

I wrap around a spike choker around my neck, and as I'm doing so, I notice my chipped black nail polish on my fingers. I pick at my nails when I'm nervous, and with the whole school thing, that tends to be a lot of ruining my freshly painted nails.

I quickly run one coat of the black nail polish on each nail, and run very cold water over them for the drying process to speed up. Luckily I got a very good brand that speed dries, and it costed only three bucks!

After they're dry enough, I take out my hair gel that sits comfortably on my desk. I scoop out some to spike up my short, red mohawk.

I debate on the whole eyeliner thing, I like how it looks.. But the whole putting it on my sensitive eyeball is a whole different thing here. Ah, fuck it. Eyeliner would make this look fully complete. And, with my eye watering so much, it gives off kind of like a crying effect, and I think that shit looks even more cooler.

I take a look in the mirror after putting on a two spiked bracelets on my left arm, and put on my favorite wrist band that has my smallest safety pin through the top of it.

My getting ready, appearance wise is finished. Now it's just in general time. I pick up my black backpack that was hanging on my desk chair. Backpack.. check.

Spinning around a bit, looking around my room just in case I'm forgetting anything. I get my small mp3 player, and head phones. One more spin, and I'm convinced I got everything.

I exit my room, and walk downstairs to see my father ready to go to work. I say good bye to him before closing the door to catch my bus that usually attempts to leave without me.

I lean against the stop sign, with a few other people. The ages are between seven to eighteen years old, it looks like.

The bright orange bus that everyone calls yellow for some reason, drives down, and stops with his loud engine screaming at full volume.