My Singing Mate [BoyxBoy]

Chapter 1

        

**Masons POV**

        "You arrogant boy! You must have to love yourself so no one else has to pity you". He screamed at me. "All of your so called friends, you fans. There better off without you. Why do you think no ones looking for you? Your here to cause a scene, like your supposed to, and so someone beats the shit out of you. You stupid kid." Why wont he stop talking? "Everyone else back in the shit hole I keep you in will fall asleep without you there because not even other pieces of shit care about you." He was right all of the other 32 boys back in that building didn't give a damn about me. Not a single one tried to defend me all this time I've been there. "You'd be lucky if your memory remained. But it wont because no body wants to remember someone like you." The man spat at me. Literally, he spat on my face. 

As scared as I was, I did what I was told. I walked into a bank and started screaming and throwing things around. Just like HE told me to do. The guards quickly ran to me thinking they were taking care of the problem when in reality they were making a problem. 

I had broken ribs and bruises and cuts all over me by the time Lenny, his personal body guard, pulled the guards off me and not so gently threw me over his shoulder and then threw me in the van. 

You'd think he was stealing money right? Wrong. He was taking yet another boy. Making it 33 boys he has as his personal punching bags. 34 counting me. 

"You could have screamed louder you piece of shit, that way I could of heard you suffer." He said, slapping me on my already broken ribs, chuckling darkly. 

_____

*BEEP BEEP BEEP* 

My alarm went off. I woke up crying. Again. 

That day was six months after I was taken. Only one month after that day had I been rescued by the police. All the other boys were gassed before they could be saved. I was the only survivor. 

My books that I had finished last night where sitting on the bedside table. I had gotten them yesterday afternoon, just as every other day. 

It was 5:30 AM. The usual time I wake up. I have no job, or requirements. I just always have a nightmare about being with him still. I wake up to my alarm clock. Cry until around six, get up. Make toast, have one bite, than throw it out. 

Everything he said about me was right. I didn't deserve my fans. There are so many better people that they can worship like a god. I deserved everything that man did to me and worse. I was fat, and stupid, and annoying, and I couldn't even sing. What was I thinking being in that band. Yeah we got famous, but it was probably because the lead singer and guitarist was a laughing stock. I should have died in that place with everyone else. 

I think about the night I was free'd. I shutter and refuse to return my thoughts to the memory of their screams of agony. 

My disgusting sobs continue on for a bit and then they calm down to gasps and I get up and go to the bathroom. I look in the mirror at the horrible sight in front of me. How was I ever considered attractive? 

My black hair was still as long as before. My eyes were still blue. My skin still pale, covered with scars and small tattoos. I had deep bags under my eyes, which were bloodshot and stinging due to the crying myself to bed and crying all through the night as my nightmares took over my mind.