Shattered

Two

"I just don't get it!" I half-sobbed, half-hiccuped. "I don't get why he hates me!"

"Aw, Charlie, he doesn't hate you," Soda said. "He just..."

"Wishes I were dead? I heard him, I heard him talkin' to Tim, he said he wishes I weren't around, said he hates me."

"Maybe you misheard him?" Steve suggested weakly.

I shook my head and took a drink of beer. "I don't get why he even took me with 'im here. I can't believe I ever looked up to 'im."

"Yeah, he can be a major dickwad sometimes." Steve sighed. "What are you gonna do now?"

"Throw myself off a bridge." I said miserably.

"Okay. Let's- let's do something else. How about ice cream? We all like ice cream. Come on, buddy, you're sad and it's our job to make you feel better. C'mon." Soda pulled me to my feet and helped me balance.

I was pretty drunk. I usually only got this upset about Dally when I was really drunk.

"You guys are really good friends." I said as we got in Steve's car.

"Yeah, aren't we?" Steve grinned.

"M'sorry you have to deal with me."

"It ain't dealin' with you if we're best friends. That's just how life is, buddy. It's getting ice cream at midnight because one of your best friend's brother made him cry, y'know?" Soda shrugged nonchalantly.

"God, we're so dysfunctional," Steve shook his head.

"And that's why we're all best friends." I grinned.

.

"I have so many regrets," I groaned from the floor of the break room of the DX. "I drank... SO much."

"Yeah, we were there." Steve said. "And you still have a show tonight."

"Ugh." I sighed. I was in a band with three guys, Jeff Fredricks, Brandon Wilson, and Chuck Stephens.

I never hung out with them, only for band practices. I wasn't really friends with any of them, not like I was with my other friends. I was lead singer, Ray was bass, Frank was drums, and Chuck was guitar.

.

"There, do I look like a normal human being?" I asked, spinning around halfway and showing off my outfit to Steve.

I was at his place getting ready. We were the same size and shared clothes a lot. Me and him were real close.

Hell, if I were a chick I probably woulda dated him. But I definitely couldn't do that.

"You look good." He nodded his approval. "Unbutton the shirt though, looks better that way."

"There."

I had on a pair of jeans and a dark blue button-down (that wasn't buttoned) without a shirt under it. I had my hair greased back and I was wearing a pair of sunglasses, even though we were inside.

With my shirt all undone, you could see the dozens of scars on my chest and stomach.

Maybe the sunglasses were messing with my vision, but I could have sworn Steve was looking me up and down.

"Alright, now we gotta get Soda and then we'll go," he said, grabbing his keys. I followed him out to his car. "Two-Bit is comin' down with Pony and Johnny, too. I think Darry said he'd try to show. I don't know about Dal-"

"I don't care if he shows." I cut him off. "He don't care 'bout me, anyway."

He offered an apologetic smile.

.

"Why are you wearing sunglasses onstage?" Ray asked as we were setting up.

"So nobody can see I'm dead inside, obviously. Also the lights are really bright." I replied, lifting my sunglasses up and glaring out at the crowd. "And I enjoy the brief moments of sexual tension where people can't tell if you're making eye contact with them or not."

He nodded, pursing his lips slightly. "Those are the most valid reasons I've ever heard."

"See, ain't I a genius?" I grinned, flicking ash off the end of my cigarette onto the stage floor.

"You're also an asshole." Chuck butted in and I nodded.

"Okay, let's start," I said, and then the mics were on. "Hey, y'all, were here to play some music. Mostly 'cause we're gettin' paid to be here, but, y'know,"

I shrugged and grinned nonchalantly.

The first half of the show went smooth, but after we had a smoke break and was about to start the second half, Frank chugged two bottle of vodka and got in a bar fight, and was then banned from ever coming back.

"We don't have a drummer, what the hell are we gonna do?" I hissed.

"I'll play drums, alright? Most of our songs don't got bass in 'em, it's fine," Jay said. "No sweat, guys, I got it,"

"Hey, I play bass," I took his bass from him and strummed a few chords to be sure I still remembered. "Yeah, this oughta work."