Faded // Luke Hemmings

chapter 1

Tatum’s POV

                Of all the places I could have chosen, I’m not sure why it ended up being LA. Maybe because it was as far away from New York as I could get while still on the coast. Maybe because people called in the “city of stars” and something about that called to me. Whatever reason, it didn’t matter because here I am, in a random apartment building not knowing a soul. Just the way I liked it.

                For most people, concrete flooring and a brick wall would bother them. Not me. I loved the feeling of my bare feet padding along the cold floor as I made my way to the fridge which for some reason I was hoping wouldn’t be empty. Having just arrived in town at five this morning, I haven’t had time yet to do any real shopping. After 6 days spent cramped up in my cousins van, the spacious rooms of my own apartment feel amazing.

                Part of me is grateful the damn thing came furnished, but for the most part I hate the way it’s set up. Everything is white and bound to get dirty, whether it’s by me or by Mary Jane, my year old cat. Between the two of us this apartment is bound to be trashed in a matter of days. As my eyes scan the room searching for everything that could get destroyed, my eyes land on something that pisses me off more than I care to admit.

                “Who the fuck puts a bookshelf in front of a window?!” Mary meows loudly at my tone of voice. “Oh shut up Mary, it’s not like you’re going to help me move it.” Oh god… I’m talking to me cat; I’m going crazy.

                But I can’t look at the damn thing without having a twisting rage in the pit of my stomach. The joint in my hand is still burning as I walk across the room with quick steps, shoving at the ugly thing impulsively. Why the fuck do bookshelves have to be so damn heavy? My shoulder aches from pushing so hard but the damn thing refuses to budge. With growing impatience, I slam my shoulder into it, hearing a loud pop and then a CRASH as the bookshelf smashes into the ground.

                I don’t know what’s louder, Mary’s yowl at the sound of the scream of pain and rage that escapes my mouth. “Jesus fucking Christ!” I grit my teeth, sliding to the floor with a thump. The joint in my hand falls to the floor, quickly burning out as I grip my shoulder with my free hand. “Ow, fuck fuck fuck.” My arm hangs limp at my side, and I know without having to make an attempt to move it that it’s dislocated.

                A pounding at my door makes me flinch back into the wall. A muffled yet distinctly male voice comes from the other side of my door, “What the fuck was that sound?!”

                The annoyance in his tone pisses me off something fierce. “My shoulder getting dislocated by a fucking bookshelf, thanks for your concern asshole!” More than anything I want to hurl something glass at the door and scare the shit out of him, but I’m in too much pain to do so.

                “Jesus, Mike…” A different voice drifts forward this time before I hear the creak of my door handle turning. “We’re going to come in and help you, okay?”

                I give a brief grunt of approval slips past my lips, not that either boys needed it. Neither of them could be much older than me, maybe four years at the most. Without needing to hear either of them talk, I know it’s the first boy who pissed me off. He’s tall, broad, with a bruise forming on his cheek and a split in his lip. But the obvious signs of fighting aren’t what draw my attention to him; it’s the hair that’s so bleached it’s gone white organized haphazardly on top of his head. “Well if it isn’t fucking Danny Phantom coming to my rescue.” I growl and he doesn’t reply, though the other boy snickers.