We All Have Daddy Issues (Max Green)

It's All Me

(Musical Inspiration: Ronnie Radke. Despite all the shit he's been through, nobody forgot who he was. That's how much of an impression he left on everyone who knew of him. He's the reason Dying In Your Latest Fashion was so amazing; he's the reason The Drug In Me Is You is so amazing. So fuck the whole team Ronnie, team Craig shit. I'm team good music, and oh my fucking god is this guy's music good. It's better than good, it's awesome. And I will continue to think so highly of him for as long as he continues to write songs like he does. Whoever said that Monte Money wrote Dying Is Your Latest fashion is wrong. It was Ronnie, the lyrics are proof. And Dying Is Your Latest fashion was, hell, still is, Escape the Fate's best album. This is why Ronnie Radke is the musical inspiration today, because everything he has ever done musically is perfect.)

            "Haden, you better open the door." I yelled at the door that hid Haden. I've been standing here for 15 minutes and he won't open it.

            "Tell your friends to go away and I will." He said sternly. Okay so what are my options? Walk in without Grant and Daniel and get my ass kicked, but also get my car back, or never see Haden again and never see my car again.

            "Fine." I caved. I looked at Grant and Daniel, and told them to leave. At first they just stood there, refusing to leave, but I gave them the look that said that if they didn't leave I was going to fuck them up. Maybe I couldn't physically, but there was quite a bit that I could do to make their lives hell. So they ended up retreating back to Grant's car and going back to my apartment in the end.

            "They are gone." I said to haden, knocking on the door.

            "Get in here, now." Haden yelled at me, and I just stood there.

            "Look, you do not own me. Hand me the keys, and I'm leaving."

            "I know what you're going to do. You're going to go drive over to see those stupid guys, and you're going to cheat on me again. I've had it. You're such a whore. You've slept with every fucking guy in Las Vegas." He yelled, grabbing me inside. I had Grant and Daniel on speed dial. If this bastard hits me, they're coming back to get him.

            "Not every guy." I pushed him off of me. "Not you."

            "That's another thing. As easy as you are, you'd think I'd have gotten some by now." He said, pissed off.

            "You were just a rebound." I said, walking towards him. He slapped me in the face, and I admit, it stung. "What? I dated a rockstar before you." He shoved me backwards and I fell. I was crying now. "Do you think you could ever compare?"

            "You're a fucking whore. I knew it the whole time we went out. You're a stripper in Las Vegas for fucks sake. It's not unlikely your a prostitute." He spat.  "And all you'll ever be is a pretty fucking face with a withered past and a blurry future."

            "Still couldn't tap it, babe?" I said sarcastically and I pushed him back into the wall. "Still cound't get it in, babe?" I was being really mean now. He wanted to be a dick? To hit me where it hurts, and to push me around? I'm going to fuck him up. "Face it. I'm a whore, but even I won't sleep with you. Have fun jacking off alone in a corner for the rest of your miserable life. Virgin." I added the last part and smirked, then I left the tattoo shop. Okay, so Haden's a complete douche, but he didn't beat me up too bad. Plus, I hit back. Does that still count as an abusive relationship? Probably.

            I grabbed my keys off the table as I was walking out, and when I got outside I just drove back home. Home sweet home. To my lovely little apartment where nothing bad hardly ever happens, my hope-in-a-box type thing.

            Maybe... Maybe if I could just forget everything here, and work on my music then things would be okay. I would learn to not love Max. I would learn to not miss Grey. I would learn to not be so attatched to Vegas. And maybe things would be perfect if that all happened.

            Truth is, though, that I am painfully in love with a guy who hates me for who I really am, that my best friend learned who I was and then left because I was so awful, and that I could never part with this city. Again, it is my home. I couldn't... I could never... just pack up and leave here like I did Lauderdale. So I'm stuck fixing my mistakes this time. I can't run. I can't blame them on others. It's all me.