Musically Random Special Times (Holland Family Imagines)

Holy Trinity Imagine: Too Loud, More Than Just Stuff

(AUTHOR'S NOTE: Trigger warning, a little bit of cutting, and mentions of bullying)

You were in your hotel room sitting on your bed in Atlanta, Georgia trying to have a nice summer vacation when your phone buzzed. You picked it up and saw a text that you did not want to see but you saw it everyday and it was sent from someone you didn't even know. You knew you were getting bullied and you knew you had problems but you didn't want to tell anybody because you didn't want to be a burden. This has been going on for twenty years. You had no one to talk to and you had no friends. You were crying as you read the text:

Unknown: Why are you here on earth? You don't deserve to be here. You don't even look pretty.

You couldn't take it anymore and thought about... (trigger warning about killing). You couldn't take it anymore and thought about maybe ending your life right there, but you were in the middle of (trigger warning again) cutting yourself with a pocket knife, when loud pop music came on and it scared the knife accidentally cut deeper than you wanted.

"Damn!" You yelled. You quickly cleaned your arm up with a bath towel and grabbed your phone and put it in your pocket. You were wearing a short sleeved shirt, so you put on a jacket, so the people you meet won't see your cuts or scars. You ran out of your room and down the hall as the music got louder. You recognized the song was 'Sexual' and didn't even smile. You knocked on the door, but then banged on the door since there was no answer. Before you could bang on the door again, a man with brown curly hair, brown eyes, and a sexy jaw line appeared in the doorway. He was in the middle of the laughing when he turned around, and his eyes were shut as he laughed.

"Hello?" He said in a British accent, as he turned towards you, "May I help you?" He opened his eyes from laughing and stopped laughing as soon as he saw you. His face went from happiness to concerned and scared. You had never seen that kind of reaction towards you before. You looked behind him and saw two other guys in the room. One of them was heavier than the other. You observed their happiness as they continued to dance, until the blonde hair one stopped as he saw you, and then the other stopped as well. They turned down the music all the way and the man in front of you with brown curly hair stepped towards you.

"I just wanted to tell you to please turn the music down that's all," You said quietly, as you rubbed your arm that was cut too deeply from before, and you winced at the pain and hissed. You searched your pockets for your room key and you realized you forgot it.

"Shit," You swore underneath your breath, "Great. I left my room key back in my room." 

"Are you okay love?" The curly brown hair man asked with concern, "You look as though you've been crying, and not sad crying, because I know what sad crying looks like, and this does not look like sad crying." You suddenly got all defensive about your cuttings.

"Since when does anybody care about my life?" You shouted back, choking back on twenty years of tears, "A-and since when does somebody like you, out of all people, want know what's going on in my life?!" You saw the man poke out from his room and looked right and left, and then he dragged you into his room and shut the door.

"There's no need to yell," The brown curly hair man said, "I'm Tom Holland."

"Okay Tom," You scoffed, as you folded your arms across your chest as you winced from the pain of cutting your arms, "Since when does Tom Holland care about my life?" You just wanted to get back to your room and sleep in depression.

"Because I do care," Tom said, as he led you to his assumed bed, "Right guys?" The two other men nodded their heads and you sighed as you sat next to Tom.