My Singing Mate [BoyxBoy]

Chapter 3

Unedited

Masons POV:

I have never been this nervous. I obviously want to impress him, but how is someone as disgusting as myself supposed to impress someone like him? He could get anyone who could see his beautiful face, or hear his charming words. Why does he want to go out with me? I'm disgusting. I'm ugly, fat, annoying, fat, worthless, fat, pointless, oh, and did I mention how fat I am?

With the thought of needing to be as perfect as I can be for him I run to the bathroom and chuck up the small bite of a banana I had this morning and a lot of stomach acid. It hurt, but it was worth it. He won't want to go on a second date with a fat guy, would he? 

Not like he'll want to go on a second date anyway. Once I explain to his obviously blind eyes how ugly, and worthless I am, he'll realize the disgrace he'll be looking at and then leave and never look at me again. And then he'll find a skinny, attractive guy that's actually good enough for him, and never think of me again. 

I don't know why, but the thought of him being with someone else physically hurt. But I might as well get used to the idea of it now, because once he realizes I'm not even good enough to be alive, he'll leave. 

I sit back from where I was leaning over my toilet. I could still feel the fat under my skin, but if I did it again I'd pass out and risk being late. He's already going on a date with me, I shouldn't push it by being late. 

It's noon now. Which means I have 6 hours and 55 minutes before I leave. I got up and took off my clothes and looked at myself in the mirror. 

I had scars all over my chest and back from the whip he used. And there were scars from all of the big business men and women he rented me out to. The torture, the knives, and electric shocks, and drugs. At least I wasn't one of the boys who had there virginity's sold. Yet. I was already sold out and was heading out of the building when the cops found me. And... I wasn't killed with the rest.

I had to stop these thoughts. I was sobbing by now. I couldn't just forget the pain I went through. Emotional and Physical. I need a distraction. I stumble into the shower and get my cutting blade out. 

In case my sister visited or friends found me, I don't cut my wrists. With a shaking hand holding the medal object, I slash at my hip. The first one is hesitant, and slow. But then they get rapid and before I know it I have around 30 slash's on my left hip. No one will ever see them on hip. On my right hip is one of my favorite tattoos, a blue, purple, white, feather with black shadowing. I know it's now hipster, and basic. But fuck you, it's awesome. 

I don't bother trying to stop the blood, I just let it run down my leg while I wash my hair. I use girl shampoo, I don't care about "being manly". It makes my hair soft. My showers are relatively short. I wash my body, along with washing away the blood. 

When I get out I hold an old towel to my hip to stop the blood, and when it does stop I take a good towel and dry off.

I get dressed into black skinny jeans, and an over sized turquoise sweater, with gray converse, and set out a gray beanie to put on once I'm done with my hair. 

I then dry, and straighten my hair. I spray axe on, and deodorant, and then put the beanie on. 

I look as attractive as I can. Once I'm done I have about 20 minutes until I have to go the library, because while getting ready my mind kept wandering off to the events of the 7 months I was missing. 

And now the nerves are settling in. I already know he's going to hate me once he gets to know me. I've already prepared myself for the inescapable rejection. So, why am I nervous?