Stay ; Tradley

S I X ; tris

Alas, an update!!!! sorry it took me so long, i'm on my half term and I've been working on this chapter on and off for a while and thought i'd get something up for you guys:) I bloody love writing this book and hopefully when i finish school in just over two weeks time i'll have far more time on my hands. 

I hope this is ok!!!

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BRAD POV

Fuck. I know I'm a prick.

I know I'm an asshole but sometimes I want to hang out with the kids in my years, the ones that listen to trendy music and kiss lots of people and smoke socially rather than independently.. and hey, if I want to mess around, I can.

Sarah said Tristan can't control my life and she's right.

And he'll be fine.

We get to the bowling alley and I win. We take pictures and I laugh.

Sarah tells me how gorgeous I am and how she can't wait for tonight and I pin a smile to my face like an inspirational quote tacked onto a cork board.

But I can't stop this nagging feeling in my chest, like someones knocking on my ribs, a miniature Tristan, shouting 'Hey! Don't forget about me!'.

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TRISTAN POV

Sometime's I'm so angry it feels like my entire body is on fire.

It feels like I want to scrunch my nose and spit at strangers feet and like I want to punch and punch and punch and punch and punch and PUNCH A WALL.

I wonder if we are born angry?

Was I born this angry?

Or was it my dead beat dad and selfish mum and douchey friend that choses those assholes over you that makes me this way?

My feet hit the concrete like thunder bolts; I've always been the kind of boy that the world can hear running, can hear living.

The world drowns when I cry. Earthquakes shatter land when I blink.

And I remember this once my mum told me the sun lives inside me.

I wish I believed her and I wish the sun shone from inside out and that it made me glow but instead I fear I am a vacuum. That inside is me is nothing but darkness and space and nothingness and eventually I fold in on my self and fall apart; that's what it feels like, in case you didn't know. That's what being self-destructive feels like; like you're full of nothingness that is destined to concave.

Damnit.

I don't know how long I've been running for, but that pit in me doesn't seem to be getting any fuller; food doesn't fill and neither does education or trying hard or being praised or accepted by my peers but instead the alcohol and drugs tends to do a good job.

And I see the sun begin to set behind to the trees and then I check my phone and I've been running for almost two hours. I can't feel my legs but then I guess sometimes its better I don't feel anything at all.

Finally stopping, I sit on a wall, sweating and panting shallow breaths, I swipe into my contacts and dial Luke.

"Babe." He answers, it's not a question, more a statement.

"Where are you?" I ask, wiping at my brow and kicking my feet against the brick.

"Finishing up in the Ring." He doesn't ask why. He expects me to explain myself.

"I need a fix. Can you hook me up?" I mutter, chewing unconsciously on my nails that are no longer nails but more bleeding stubs.

"Yeah, I was going round Aarons tonight anyways-" Aaron. Aaron is trouble. "I'll pick you up around 6."