Renegade Revival

Chapter 8: Hazel Eyes

Taylor's POV

"You need to get out more," Veronica nagged. I folded my arms at her as I slouched in the couch a little more.

"Is it a bad thing that I like staying home?" I quizzed as I rose a brow.

"Yes," she said. "Put some shoes on. I'm taking you shopping."

"Christ," I groaned as I tossed my head back. "I never liked shopping. Not even with Hayley; what makes it any different with you?"

"Are you made out of grapes?" Veronica asked as she tossed my Converse shoes over to me.

"What the hell? No," I scoffed.

"Really? Because I hear a lot of whining from you." And with that, Veronica walked out the house and went towards the car.

"Ha! You're so funny!" I called out to her, my words full of sarcasm.

We drove to the mall that was nearby, Veronica basically taking me there against my own will. As we entered the mall, I saw a face in there. A familiar face. At least I thought it was familiar. We passed by the person too fast for me to analyze the face, to confirm to myself that it was, in fact, familiar. I tried to brush it out of mind as Veronica pulled me deeper into the shopping center.

"They better have a Hot Topic, at least," I mumbled under my breath.

"What's that?" Veronica asked, obviously hearing my words. I stared at her, shocked.

"Oh, you poor child," I cooed. "Hot Topic is life!" I led her to the dimly lit store made of brick. She frowned a little.

"It's nothing but t-shirts," she complained.

"That's where you're wrong. There's tons of things, mostly from your favorite musicians and bands," I corrected.

"Oh, God..." she huffed. "Look at this!" She held up a Blood on the Dance Floor t-shirt as she cringed at it, like it was gas bomb. "You can easily buy this on E-Bay!"

"Not like that, I don't think," I snickered as I skimmed through some more t-shirts.

"And what about this?" she said, holding up a Fall Out Boy shirt. "I can make this."

"Put it down. Another soul would want it," I said. "Never underestimate the bands; never insult the bands. Fans of bands are a lot stronger than any fan base you'll ever run across."

"What is there to support! Them ruining their vocals with screaming? Or their use of makeup that only consists of black?" she spat. I turned to Veronica, but caught sight of familiar hazel eyes. I forced myself to look over to Veronica again, my attention shifting to the hazel eyes once in a while.

"People support them because the band supports them," I explained. I slowly switched my gaze to the hazel eyes again, being trapped there. "If you listen behind the screaming; if you really listen to the lyrics, you'll know."

"What're you looking at?" Veronica asked, trying to find where my gaze was. I snapped myself out of the trance and looked over at Veronica.

"Nothing," I lied. "Just... thought I saw a shirt I wanted."

"C'mon," she said, taking my wrist and walking me out of the dark haven. "I'm giving you a makeover."

"Repeat?" I asked.

"I'm giving you a makeover," she said again. "I'm sorry, but t-shirts and jeans are just not gonna do it, Mr. York." A pang formed in my chest at the sound of my last name. I swallowed, my throat feeling dry.

"Veronica," I sighed. "I told you already to never call me by my last name."

"And why not?" she asked. "I might be taking it." My stomach twisted in knots at her words.