I D K

A Weak Rose

A dim silhouette emerges from the covers of the queen-sized bed in front of me. The crescent moon illuminates the person's outline. 

"Can you shut the fuck up?" a voice groans from under the covers, the person folds a pillow over their ears, trying to block out my despair and hopelessness.

I don't blame them, I'd do the same, but I like indulging in my sadness and unexplainable feelings. I love delving into that, but sometimes it's just nice to smile. 

The person wrenches off the covers and rubs at their eyes roughly.

It's as if the moon gandered up the courage to produce its own light and not always be dependent on the sun's shine. I want to be the moon. 

The luminous light accentuates the abs on a topless body, rose tattoos exploding to life. Vibrant colours blending to red, pink and lime green spikes. Bleeding into black ink. Snakes dawdling the rib cage, skeleton skulls lining the collar bone. It was art. Breathtaking.

"Owww," he holds his head in his hand, head throbbing. 

I snap back to my senses. 

I try to open the door, quick yet nervously, my hands grasping the knob, but nothing. 

I look over my shoulder to see if the mishap of art fell back asleep. Nope. 

An eye glares at me like I'm prey. A green so wild painting the irises. 

I feel kinda... bad all of a sudden. But, I didn't do anything wrong, well I didn't tell my parents what KIND of party this was, but no time for guilt. 

The lion's eyes skim over me. "Who the hell are you?" he growls, animosity clouds the room. I ignore him and continue trying to wrench the door open. 

"Agh!" he winces while clutching the side of this head.

I want to ignore him and get out of here, but he seems to be in a bit of a weak state. 

Cautiously, I turn around. "Are you okay?" I voice. I go to get up, but he scowls. Hostile. 

He now seems like the scared animal but continues to show a tough exterior. Hmm. 

"Do you need help?" I ask tentatively. He just rolls his eyes in annoyance. He didn't even try to mask his contempt. 

Straight forward, that's cool, that's okay. I really don't want him to become feral or lash back at me like a wild animal, so I don't approach him. 

"I- I'll go bring Blake," I say finally, at a loss for words. 

"Don't you fuckin dare bring that bastard here," he snarls. 

I am perplexed but intrigued. 

"Well, if he's such an asshole, why are you at HIS party?" I retort. 

He narrows his eyes on me, 

"Well if you were just gonna CRY, why did you come to this party?" he fires. 

We stare each other down as stubborn as bulls. 

Time for a rodeo. 

"So, what's your problem with Blake?" I purr inconspicuously. He just glares at me as though I'm not worth his time, but something inside of me jumps when his clear cut eyes slice into mine like a Granny Smith apple. 

He can see right through me.

 A smirk tugs at his lips, even in the dark it's clear as day but malicious and vain, he knows he has the upper hand. 

Why is it always like this?

"Look, Rose, you're definitely not from around here," he says. I don't know why, but it's like he's a magnet, the magnetic pull is strong. Opposites attract. 

"Um, who's Rose?" 

He sighs, "I don't know, you look like a rose, okay?" 

I must look confused, so he elaborates, "A rose, easy to tear and crush until there's nothing left but red petal carnage,"

I roll my eyes.

"Uh, how about we exchange our names?" I ask. 

He laughs like I'm a child, 

"I'm Vie Rocker," he huffs. The sound of his raspy voice bounces off the walls. 

"Jyia. I'm Jyia Dier," This seems so formal, but scandalous. God, does he make everything seem like a crime? 

His eyes widen in surprise at my name. Fuck. 

"J Y I A," he drawls out meticulously, sounds like a bad joke in his mouth. And he's the only one laughing. 

Welp, of course, this happens to me, god I gotta stop pitying myself. 

I spring off the floor like a startled cat. I run by all the doors in the insanely huge room and try each knob. I even bang, but no one can hear me over the music, or everyone's way too stoned. 

"So... you're Jyia? Huh..." he mutters under his breath, fascinated. 

His breath tickles the side of my neck. He's right beside me now, leaning on the wall casually, staring at me like I'm some exotic animal. He's too close. 

I gulp, we don't move for a good minute. I still frantically twist at the door, even body slam it. 

Vie just steps back and stares at me amused. Is this funny to him? 

"Why the fuck won't the doors open?" I yell pissed. 

Vie shrugs and plops down onto the bed, he slips on a black leather jacket scrawled with roses and a dragon. 

He pulls out a cigarette, "Got a lighter?" he mumbles. 

"I don't smoke," I reply. "And you shouldn't either, it doesn't make you cool, it kills you," I lecture. A chuckle grows in his throat, 

"Sweetie, I can give zero fucks about being cool, it's called A D D I C T I ON," it's a sad laugh. 

A few quick strides and I'm face to face with Vie. I pluck the cigarette out of his hand and smush it with my studded boot on the red, regal carpet, marking it with black carcinogen soot. 

Vie looks stunned, but then rage fills his face. "Why would you do that?" he frowns agitated. 

"Sorry, for stopping you from killing yourself faster," I say sarcastically. 

A wistful expression finds its way into the crevices of his face, "I'd rather die quicker," 

"It's a horrible world," 

"Yeah, but might as well have fun if we're here," I exclaim dryly, breaking his stupor. 

Then he starts to go off on a short tangent. "You know. you really shouldn't be here," he says. 

"You really are crazy, naive, stupid, or actually, all three," 

He's right. I should leave like, right now. 

I peer out the window, how on Earth did I end up on the third floor? 

Vei's hand casually leans against the edge of the window sill, his other hand does the same on the other side, trapping me. His jacket flows in the breeze, his abs uncovering from time to time, glimmering in starlight.

"I wouldn't jump from here if I were you," he laughs. It's still raining heavily, but the smell of fresh rain is pleasant. 

"Can you open the doors then?" I ask. He nods. 

"You should leave before the other guys see you, they're probably drunk enough to not notice a thing anyway," 

He walks to one of the doors and... it opens.

.    .    . 

YayYAYyayYAYya

LoNgBoArDiNg.