A Bit Too CRAZY (Josh Hutchereson FanFic)

Chapter One

Chapter One

I will just start offby telling you some basic things about myself:

1) My name is Scarlett Marr, and am 19-years-old.

2) I love to read, write, draw, sing, make music, listen to music, and obsess over Josh Hutcherson.

3) I love Josh Hutcherson

4) I live in a small apartment in downtown L.A.

5) I have almost no social life because in 12th grade, Sydney Conners, the most popular girl who was at my school, spread a rumor on how I "banged", as she said, her friend's boyfriend. I lost all my friends. I was alone until graduation. The only one besides my family who didn't leave me was my boyfriend, Danny. Danny was good enough to know it wasn't true.

Number 5 was a little longer than I had intended and planned.

So in my apartment I have dedicated two rooms to specific things: one room for my art studio and writing,

and the other is for music. Complete in the art/writing studio is a desk for drawing and writing. There are two drawers on either side of the desk. Two for writing stuff, two for art stuff. In my music room, has all my instruments (I play a lot of different ones, but mainly guitar), a microphone for recording and stuff like that, my laptop, etc. one of the best things about these rooms is that they're connected, and there's a simple doorway between the two.

My room consists of a queen sized bed, nightstand, dresser, closet, window, etc. My music room has a window as well by the way.

I know, it sounds big, but the apartment really isn't too big. My kitchen is small, and I don't have a table to eat at. I have a bar-like counter, the coffee table, or the couch. My TV is kind of small. Not like anyone else really has.

Enough about my tiny apartment, let's get to what I'm doing.

I sit in my windowsill in my bedroom which overlooks - ready? - the building next to us. My forearms are pressed against my knees and each other. My fingers in my fists against each other as well. My forehead presses against my fists as I cry. I cry a lot, I'll admit. But I have my reason. My reason is: I have no idea. Every stinking night, I cry. And never understood why though. Danny, who've I've been with since 12th grade, can't even stop me. I just get that annoying urge to cry all the time. I look out my window for a minute, looking at the fore escape and the boarded up windows of the building next to us, and the night, and the light polluted air, and the alleyway below.

I don't want to see or hear or know you cry. Danny's words whisper in my head. I wish I knew why. I want to comfort you.

I've been cutting though. I don't know why. I just do. It's like the same situation as the crying. After a month of the crying problem, I started cutting. I cut when I feel like there's something wrong. Something too hard to fix. I have an X-acto knife in my art/writing studio. I had it way before cutting though. It's for sculptures or something.

I wipe my eyes on my over sized T-Shirt sleeve. I get up, sniff, and shuffle through the short narrow hallway to my living area. I shiver from the strong force of the air conditioner I have no control over. I grab a blanket and wrap it around myself. There's a sudden bang on my door. Kind of like an open-up-i-need-help kind of knock. I open the door, tears still streaming down my face. The person, a man, runs in immediately and slams the door. 

"Sorry, long story," I hear the guy say in a familiar voice. "I hope you don't mind if I stay for about an hour?"

I turn around to see...

Holy... Josh fricken Hutcherson.

I stare at his sad expression. Why is he sad? Is it sadness? Maybe worriedness. I can't be sure. But some kind of sympathy.

"Are you alright?" he asks me.

Josh Hutcherson wants to know if I'm alright? Wow. But I don't know how to answer that. "Not really," I just say. A lump develops in my throat and I shuffle the few steps to the couch. I sniff, and cry more. "I don't know why I'm crying," I say.

Josh sits next to me, close. "How long have you been crying?"

"Like a half hour."

Josh sighs. I bet he doesn't know what he's really doing. That sounds mean, but it's not intended to be. I saw in an interview he said he didn't know how to make good first impressions on girls. "You don't have to worry," I say. "I'm fine."

"Unless those are happy tears, you're not fine."

"No. I am. I'm fine."

"What's your name?" I guess Josh just wanted to get this topic away.

"Rachel," I say. "You can call me Rae."

"Josh, if you didn't know."

"I know who you are."

"Oh. I wasn't sure. Most girls who know who I am would probably have screamed like crazy if I barged in like this. Sorry about that by the way. I didn't-"

"It's fine. I don't mind. I could use some company anyway."

"Oh." There's a silence. "Hobbies?" Josh tries to start a conversation.

"Art, music, writing... Mainly."

"That's cool." Josh smiles. "I act a lot... obviously."

I chuckle. I look at the time and see it's 8:26 P.M. My phone beeps, telling me I have message. The text reads "C u 2nite, babe". It's from Danny.

I reply "What do you mean? You didn't say you were coming over..."

Please don't give me a reason to cry more... "Sorry wrong number" Danny replies.

"Who was that meant for? Why did you say 'Babe'?" I ask him.

"Nothing"

"Tell me. It's fine. Why'd you say 'babe'?"

Danny doesn't reply. Not for almost five minutes. Josh asks if I'm okay.

"I don't know," I say.

"Why are you crying more?"

"I think my boyfriend's..." - I cry more - "cheating on me."

"What makes you say that?"

I hand Josh the phone, so I don't have to read the texts. Josh soon hands it back to me. "I'm sorry," he says. "How long have you been together?" I tell him three years straight, and that he's all I have. "Wow... I am really sorry. I-."

Josh is interrupted by the beep of my phone. I look at it, and find a really long text from Danny... To paraphrase... he met another girl, he likes her better, and he wants my opinion. I text "IF YOU LIKE SOMEONE BETTER, BE WITH THEM AND NOT THE OTHER PERSON! PS, THANKS FOR LEAVING ME WITH NO ONE"