Working for Mr. Bennington

Changing directions

"Chester needs his music." I continued.

"I know he does. I'm not taking it away from him." Mike says. 

Mike and I were arguing about this for a while. Chester takes his phone out and he was on it for a while. While Mike and I were having different points of views. Chester starts laughing. Mike and I both looked at him.

"What?" We both said.

He shows his phone to us. He took a picture of himself and posted it on his profile, on top it said. "Sitting here watching  Mike and Emma fighting over our music. So fucking hot watching this." 

"What's so funny about that?" Mike and I both ask.

"We have a ship name baby girl." 

"Oh." I said.

"You want to know what it is?" 

I nod.

"It's emster."

We all laughed.

"You are officially accepted apart of this family." Mike says. Chester nods. 

I smiled and sat down in the chair.

"Emma I don't want us to stop making music." Mike says.

Chester starts making funny faces and he was being goofy. Mike and I both look at him. We laughed. 

"Chester can you please listen to the conversation here?" Mike asks.

"I'm listening." He said shrugging.

"So what are you saying then?"

"I think we should just change it up a bit. Take it to a different direction."

I looked at Chester waiting to hear his opinion. He smiles and tilts his head side to side. 

"What do you think baby?"

"If we change direction are we still going to keep two lead singers?" Chester asks.

"We can mixed it up I guess." Mike says.

"Lets see how it goes then. Lets explore then." Chester says shrugging.

"So you agree to the change?" Mike asks.

"Yeah." Chester says.

"This should be interesting." I said. 

"What about our fans then?" Chester asks.

"If our fans are our true fans they will support us no matter what."

"I agree." I said.

Chester looks at me and he smirks. 

"Can I use your poems now?" he asks me.

"What poems?" Mike asks.

"She writes poems." Chester says.

"Really? Can I see it?" Mike asks me.

I looked to the floor, thinking. I feel them both staring at me. I pout my mouth, I know they are waiting for me to answer. I took out my journal and hold it on my lap. 

"Emma?" Mike says.

"I'll read it to you." I said looking at the journal.

I opened it to a random poem. I opened it up at the most hurtful poem I've written. Great... I'm going to read the poem that will probably bring me to tears in front of Mike. I took a deep breath. 

"I never asked you to be my dad...." I paused for a bit. "To slap me around and treat me bad..." The tears forms in my eyes, going back to the memories of my dad. But I just looked down and kept reading. "I never asked you to drink alcohol. I never asked you for anything at all..." I feel a tear escaping from my eyes, rolling down my cheek and drop on the paper. But I kept reading. "I never asked for the hurt and pain.... Or for the nights that were half insane..." Another tear escape and rolls down and drops on the paper again. "I never asked for this horrible life... Or for the conflicts, the quarrels and strife... I never asked to be used and abused, or to sit in my room dazed and confused. I never asked for the crap that has piled. Or for the bruises when I took the falls. I never asked once but I'm asking you now. I hope you make me understand somehow. How you could treat me so freaking bad. That I never asked you to be my dad." tears were escaping my eyes, rolling down my cheeks. I didn't look up. I just sat there for a while.