Laugh

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(a/n: I just took a precalculus quiz on which I knew nothing, also the chapters told from Dallon POV may seem a bit harder to follow and more scattered because it is supposed to represent what it's like to think when you have anxiety)

*DALLONS POV*

   I had awoken late the morning after the concert, there were sounds of people moving around downstairs, but yet again no one had bothered to check on me. This was my life and there was nothing I could do but hide it from the rest of the world. I checked my phone, hoping to see a text from the scruffy haired boy I had run into last night, but there were no messages. Sighing, I rolled out of bed and went to my closet. Behind all the clothes was an old black electric bass, I had bought it second hand from the music store down the street. It wasn't much but it was relaxing to play and whenever I held it, the world felt right.

    I pulled out the bass and the tiny little amp I had to go with it. Once I started playing a song, everything else just flowed out. Music was the one thing in my life that didn't feel forced, whenever I played the smile on my face was real and my body was instantly at peace. Time stood still and went too fast all at the same time when I played, all stress and anxiety melted away, this is what I was meant to do. 

    None of my friends knew that I could play, and they never would know. There were just certain things you couldn't do when you were popular and play an instrument was one of them. I had fought tooth and nail to get to the top, though it looked effortless. I had mastered the art of holding my tongue and forcing out laughs. Somedays it made my want to kill myself.

    Then came along the boy with milk chocolate eyes and the world seemed good again. I barely knew Brendon, but I already felt that I could trust him with my entire life. He represented everything good in the world and everything bad all wrapped into one, and I was just about ready to throw away my entire reputation for him. If Jack or Alex ever found out I had a crush on an emo boy, they would destroy me in a matter of minutes. The only reason I knew this was because I had seen it before.

    There was this kid named John, and he was like super popular, he was class president, homecoming king, and won basically everything because everyone liked him. Then one day he let it slip that he had a boyfriend and before he could even finish the word the entire school knew. He lost everything, including his boyfriend who left him because he thought John was ashamed of him. I couldn't go through that, so nobody would ever know.
       
    What if Brendon didn't even like me? What if he was just doing this to get in with the popular crowd? He probably didn't even like me like that, he was so attractive he probably wasn't even gay. What if his whole plan was to expose my sexuality? Was he just out to ruin me? My wrists began to itch like crazy and I had to force myself to continue picking the bass to keep from scratching them until they bled. This was my life, bouncing forth between different anxieties and never having a thought finish before the next one started. Why couldn't my life just be normal? Why hadn't Brendon texted me yet?

    I was a fuck up, and Brendon saw that as soon as he looked at me. He looked at me and was disgusted by the person I truly am. The anxiety riddled, depressed wanna-be that I truly am. I mean, who's going to care about me when my own parents don't? Usually when I freaked out like this I got out of the house and went somewhere, but there was no where I wanted to go. There was no place I could go to escape this. All I wanted was to be happy and liked and it always felt as if the world hated me. The world had been out to get me since the day I was born.

    Time had become a foreign concept to me, it wasn't till my phone buzzed that I even thought any time had passed at all. The time at the top of my phone read 4:45, and the text underneath was from an unknown number and read: "coffee sounds great". My heart soared when I read those words, all my fears forgotten because I immediately knew who that number was. I shot back instantly, not bothering to think about seeming to eager or starting to be clingy.

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