Smile - Joker Leto Fanfiction - {BWWM} - {COMPLETE}

T W E N T Y F O U R

~ Smile ~
~ Part Two ~
~ day 46 ~
• C H E Y E N N E •

I could see the sun peeking between building as I'd finally gained enough courage to finally talk without breaking into a fit of tears. Joker waited patiently, holding my hand for the last 10 minutes, giving it encouraging squeezes.

I'd never talked to anyone about this. Not Bruce (although, he already knew about it already), not Damon, not Angel. No one. I kept it to myself and I ultimately intended to take it to my grave. But now that I'm sitting here, running through that night in my mind, I didn't want to keep my mouth shut. I take a deep breath, sitting up straight in my chair. I did everything I could to prepare myself for this. I had no idea what mental state I'd be left in by the end of this, so here I go, breaking the fourth wall. I'd prepare myself too if I were you.

~ 11 years earlier ~

It was 2007. I'd just turned 14 that May. You can only imagine how immature, bratty, hormonal I was. It's no excuse to how I'd act, but I do contribute those aspects to the fact that I was a horrible child. A horrible person.

I pull my hood down lower over my head before pulling myself up on the gate, climbing up it effortlessly and jumping down onto the restricted ground. I pick the bat up that I initially tossed over the fence and swing it in my hand.

I was raised in a small town just shy of New York. The area was nice, full of middle-class families with mothers and fathers who had normal desk jobs in the city and kids who all mostly went to the same school since post-diaper age. I had good parents. They were loving, attentive, supporting and I loved them with every fiber of my being. I have no idea how I ended up the way I did.

I push open the door, expecting to be greeted by an empty home once again. I got home from school at 3 and my parents wouldn't be here until 5. I missed them both a lot, but seeing them later in the evening was better than never being able to see them. I was essentially being greedy.

Just as I'm closing the door, I hear shuffling in the kitchen, causing me to put my guard up. I pull my stolen pocketknife out of my jacket pocket and flick it open, carefully peeking around the corner. My heart jumps up to my throat when I notice the familiar silhouette starting dinner early. I drop the knife on the floor along with my backpack and rush at my mother, squeezing her. I hear her chuckle as she reaches down to grab my hands. "Hi, baby."

My parents weren't the only people I cared about, the only people I loved. As I said before, most of the children where I lived knew each other, but they didn't like me. Let me rephrase this. Their parents didn't like me. They made sure their kids went nowhere near me. They knew what I did. They didn't want their kids to end up like me. They were smart.

Except for one pair of parents that happened to live right across from us. They and my parents had been friends since high school. They were blinded by what amazing people my parents. They raised their son along with my parents as they raised me. They thought I could be no worse than my parents.

Their son's name was James. He was a couple months younger than me and we did everything together. He was my best friend. My only friend. What made it worse is that I had a huge crush on him.

"My parents said that I cou-" he says, his tone excited as he spoke about his birthday plans. His voice seems to fade out as I watch him talk. He's so cute when he's excited, I couldn't help but think to myself. His brown eyes would light up happily, his already deep voice would elevate to a slightly higher pitch, and he anxiously pushes his slightly curly hair out of his face, not knowing what to do with his hands. There was nothing I wanted to do more than to reach over and pull him in for a kiss. But I didn't have to courage. "Cheyenne? I want you to come with us."