psycho |c.h| |b.s|

|b.s|

dear psycho,

i would love to meet you sometime.

i stare at you because you're gorgeous.

you don't need to understand.

but, tell me, darling.

why do you call yourself psycho?

you seem like an, amazing person.

sincerely,

curly hair.

------------

"bradley, get off of the couch." the old man, i know by joe demands. "you need to get your life together, brad. for fuck's sake."

i set down the letter and pen before looking up at him with my brown eyes, and leaning back onto the couch, kicking my feet up and placing my arms above my head.

"what's been going on with you man," james mumbled from the other side of the room, hanging his head. "it's like we don't know you anymore."

"yeah brad. we miss the guy we had as our best friend. our band mate. can you go back to that?" connor pleaded, finally taking his head out of his hands and standing up.

"stop being so depressed man," tristan grumbled.

"you guys know shit," i growled, kicking my feet off the table and standing up.

"oh don't we, bradley? we know enough to know you're acting like a fuck up," connor shouted. "is it because of that new, girl, you've been writing with? hm, bradley? tell us. is it?"

my eyes squinted in his direction and i ran my fingers through my curly hair. "no, actually. it's not. so mind your own fucking business. you're all just a bunch of assholes anyways."

all of their eyes shot up to me and rolled their eyes. "right, brad. we're the assholes."

sighing, i grabbed the letter from the table but connor grasped it in his hands, pulling it from me.

"stop connor, let it go." i demanded, trying to grab the letter but he was too strong.

"dear psycho." he began. "hell brad, do i even have to finish? her name is psycho. you're talking, to a girl, who goes by psycho. but she's not changing you, right?"

"when did he begin talking to her?" james questioned, looking up at connor and tristan.

"i don't know, a month." tristan shrugged. "do you even know her, man?"

connor shook his head, "no, obviously not because he said he wanted to meet her in this."

"how is she tearing him apart through letters?" tristan mumbled to himself.

i groaned, "your fucking lectures aren't doing shit."

"we're not trying to lecture you, brad. for fuck's sake. get a life, would you? get your shit together. realise there are people you actually know that are trying to help you, and you're pushing them away like a little prick." james growled, standing up and pointing a finger in my face.

"how do you know she's gorgeous, and be able to stare at her if you haven't even met her?" connor questioned, raising his eyebrows in pure confusion.

a smirk rose to my lips and i ignored his questioned, shaking my head.

"answer the fucking question," he growled, throwing the paper to the ground and pushing james out of the way to get all in my face and fatherly.

i licked my lips and un-crossed my arms, "there's a lot you could, possibly, learn there connor."