Take Me Away (Michael Clifford/5sos)

Chapter 1

Let me tell you about a girl I know,
Had a drink about an hour ago,
Sitting in a corner by herself,
in a bar in downtown Hell.
- Sublime

Chapter 1

I entered the apartment I am still sharing with my Mum and mde my way straight to my room. I've been out with my best friend Elenaor all night and she walked me home as usual.
If you're wondering - no, Elenaor's not much older than me that she has to walk me home.
I'm a nineteen year old college dropout, working as a secretary at a theatre and I also manage acts at a music bar.
Actually, I hate living with my Mum, but it was still way better than with my Dad.
Why? Long story.

"Ah, you're finally home. Better get your lazy ass to bed so you can go and make some money tomorrow. No money, no bed. Remember that." she told me, waving her finger on my face, stopping halfway before I make it to the sanctuary of my room. I felt the alcohol oozing from her breath - she'd definitely had too much. I snapped;

"Wait a second. No money, no bed? That's funny, you know. I'm the only one here who's working her ass off, day and night, all so you can drink all the money away!" I shook my head in disbelief. "You told me you would change while I was away at college but nothing changed. Not a single thing." I kept on shaking my head. I was angry as hell.
"If you would be able to keep it in your pants, none of this-" she waved around with her hand in the tiny apartment "would have happened!"
"Oh, so it's all my fault?! My fucking fault?!" I screamed back at her. "You never wanted to believe me! Never! You've been always on his side, always blaming me for everything that has happened! You know what? Fuck you!" I turned my back at her and rushed to my room, slamming my door closed and collapsed against it, pushing the "play" button on my CD-Player.
Green Day came on.
"Turn that shit up!" I heard my mother scream. I didn't want to make her that favour, so I changed it to 5 Seconds Of Summer - my favorite band of all time. But she screamed I could turn that up, too. But I just let it be.
That's how I grew up - blasting loud music to escape reality.
I took my laptop and checked twitter; a few new messages, a lot of stuff about 5sos and some other fandoms I'm in...

I found a new message; "5sos are looking for a new secretery/manager/however...how 'bout you try it? You'd be the perfect one! YOu know these boys by heart! I'd even write a recommendation!" a friend from work (the music bar) told me. I raised my eyebrow. Tosh was always throwing around with insider knowledge. The creepy thing about it was 99.9% of it was always true.
I took my phone and texted Elenaor;

> Tosh says 5sos r looking for a new secretary - should I try it? Yay/nay???
only seconds later my phone vibrated. Elenaor was always on her phone - she was the complete opposite of me with her big boobs, long, blonde hair, and endless lovers.
< If it's a way to get out of that hellhole - yes!

I smiled.
Elenaor and I met back in high school, when life was getting complicated. She was one of the popular kids, while I was considered emo.
But one day, I ran out of class because some bitches were harassing me, I found her crying in the bathroom. Some guy from the football team showed her panties around - he'd played her swearing she was the only one for him and so on and so forth. As soon as I realized to whom I was talking to, I wished I never had, but I didn't want her to feel bad or even depressed.
Back then, I knew what real depression was, and I still don't wish it on anyone.
Anyways, we skipped the rest of the day and got to know each other a bit more, that's when I realized she wasn't what she looked like: a superficial, self involved, air-headed bitch. For once, the popular life chose the girl instead of the other way around. Coming from a rich family and with natural good looks and a people friendly, open personality she was the most popular girl in school by the time she hit puberty.

We talked about what had caused her breakdown, about bitches always claiming to be her friends only to stab her in the back at any given chance. About douchebags who played the part of a trustworthy, loving man only to be found with another chick's legs wrapped around his head or, in this case, practically putting her undergarments for auction in a lcker room full of post-pubescent perverts.

I introduced her to my world of pot and rock and jazz music, my getaway, while she showed me a bit of her world with pop music and shopping. My love for 5 Seconds of Summer was one of the things to brush off on her right away, quickly sealing our friendship. We quickly bonded, eventhough we were two completely different people, we shared the same sense of humor and love of music, along with the will to just be ourselves without the weight of the world on our shoulders.

One week later she quit the cheerleading squad, and we officially became friends, which turned over the complete hirarchy.

Well, her former bitch-friends were no longer afraid to laugh at her, distancing themselves and climbing over one another to take her position in the ladder of 'fame', while the emos and pot heads turned away from me, thinking I'd converted to the other side, so it was just us two and maybe some people who didn't care about popular-non-popular folks.
I know everything about Elenaor (she also started trusting me very fast), but it took me longer to open up to her completely.
But that's another story.

When I finished my tweet to 5sos, asking them if the rumors were true, the CD stopped. I played it over again, waiting for a response. There popped up a post from the official page, but my tweet was - of course - completely ignored.
Instead of sighing and giving up, I searched up the mail adress of their management, and opened a new mail.

Sky A. (sky.a@mail.com):
Dear Sir or Madam,
My name is Sky Maxwell, I am nineteen years old, and I currently work as a manager at a music bar and as a secretary at a theathre in Berkeley, California.
I heard that there is a position in the management of pop-rock band "5 Seconds Of Summer" and I think I'd be the right person to do it.
I'm used to do a lot of work,I speak five languages fluently and I am completely fine with travelling and not staying long at one place.
You can see my references in my attached CV.
Sincerely,
Sky A.

Attachments: CV_new

I re-read the mail at least a dozen times, checking Twitter in between each read to see if there were any answers to my post. None.
Finally I mustered the courage and clicked on send.
As soon as the message was sent, I realized at least five mistakes I'd made. But I was too tired. Instead of caring and worrying, I turned off the music and stripped off my clothes.
My body was covered with scars. Small ones and large ones, all of them old.
No, it wasn't an incident or some tragic car crash I survived years ago.
It was an old blade.

It took me months until I could finally show and tell Elenaor. She was shocked. Like, really bad shocked. She asked me why I didn't tell her any sooner, and the only thing I was able to do was to break down crying.
I was too ashamed to admit I didn't trust my best and only friend. But that was the point; I trusted nobody. Because I once did, and it ended disastrous.
And no, I'm not talking about some freshman year love story kind-of-thing.
You see, when I was little I trusted my Dad to protect me. My mum and I were never getting along, and he was always there to protect me. But things changed.
I wish I knew why, but I still don't. My parents got divorced and I stayed with my Dad at our old house. It wasn't the same anymore.
He started drinking and I started to hide more and more in my room, not wanting to see the demons that the alcohol brings with it. Hey, I was twelve by that time.
And one day, he came up to my room. I though he'd like to give me a good-night-kiss on my forehead, how he always used to do when I was little. But I was wrong.
Instead, he took off my pants and hurt me in one of the worst ways a young girl can be hurt.
And he did it again and again.
Until one day our neighbours noticed.

I had to move in with my mum while my dad got arrested.
And that's how part two of my drama began; fights and arguments all the time, tears on my former friend's couches and an old razor blade to make it all go away. All over again, day after day.
It took me months, no, years to finally stop, and without Elenaor's help, I probably wouldn't be here today.
After Eleanor and I finished high school as average students, we went to college together; she chose design, I chose a jazz-piano education and singing. She's still there. I had to drop out because A, I couldn't afford it anymore, and B, my depression came back.

And here I am now; standing almost naked in front of the mirror, thinking about my miserable life, while my mother's emptying probably her third bottle of vodka.