||Cole Wentz|| First Person||
"There," Hayley lets out in a soft breath, pulling her mascara wand of magic back and away from my eyes- more specifically, my eyelashes. I don't dare blink, mainly because I didn't want my eyelashes to stick together in this thick web of black ink. Hayley smiles her big smile, dropping the wand back into the tube and twisting it shut. She slides the tube on the desk, grinning as she examines me like an artist does their canvas. "You look amazing."
"Dude, it's just a party," I comment, making Kate swivel her head from her spot on Chelsea's bed. Anna is sitting next to me and Hayley on, of course, Hayley's bed. I almost jump at how fast she's turned, and if looks could kill? Well....
"It isn't just a party! This is like huge- how many times do you get to say you partied at a Toronto Nightclub?" Kate beams, stars twinkling in her eyes. I sigh and am about to flop backwards onto the bed before Hayley is grabbing me, mumbling something about ruining my hair. "And a classy one at that?"
"Drinking and dancing to Top 40 music isn't classy." I respond to her, my gaze wandering up to the brown bangs of mine falling lightly on my forehead. I look back down and look at the faces that belong to my best friend, old friend, and the two acquaintances I've acquired in the past few weeks- thanks due to Chelsea, of course. My lips part slightly before I speak. "Do I have to go?"
"Yes, you do." Chelsea says, taking her blonde hair out of its elaborate and twisted bun. She wraps the scrunchie hair tie around her wrist, letting her hair bounce freely as it cascades down her back. "You'll have fun."
"No, I won't." I reply, pinching a strand of my hair and examining it. Hayley went all out on me these past few hours- straightening my messy hair and adjusting my bangs just the right way. She did my eye makeup like a pro and finished the rest of my makeup as well, treating me like a doll the whole way through. I don't know, I guess I looked decent for once, but that wasn't convincing me at all to go. My stomach has been hurting all day, thinking about tonight. Yesterday, Josh and Tyler flew in from Columbus, Ohio, and Josh and Tyler were happy enough to tag along with us to go to the Ontario Science Centre. It was fun- the exhibits were very interactive and somehow educational. There was this one exhibit that featured this thing called the Confined box. There were two of them, due to popular demand, and basically you step into there and close the door. You press the button inside the box, which is lit up by one light bulb at the very top, and a tape plays that proceeds to explain how during slavery, human beings were put into boxes like these and shipped off to the United States or so. And then, the wall starts to move closer towards you, making the box smaller and smaller and more cramped than before. I freaked out because I didn't know when it would stop or if it would stop, and Josh Dun was in the other box at the same time, stuck between screaming and laughing. After that, we went up to the store at the top level called Mastermind Toys. We were looking for cute souvenirs and such to take back to our homes and families, and Patrick wanted to buy this slushie maker, but he decided against it. I think the others bought stuff for their family members- I know that Josh bought a matching shirt for his sister as well. When we got back to the hotel, Pete and Brendon decided that it was their turn to choose what we'd be doing the next day. Clubbing. Typical- I wouldn't put it past them. "I don't know, something is telling me it's a bad idea."
"Yes, you will." Hayley says, taking my trembling hands into her own warm ones. She smiles widely at me, her eyes twinkling with excitement. Do they not feel it? Do they not have that gut instinct that something is going to happen? "We're going to get incredibly drunk and listen to terrible music and have a good time, because we need it. Everyone is going to be there, and it will all be okay, okay?"
"I know, but-"
"No buts, party pooper." Anna grins at me, biting her bottom lip and knocking my shoulder with her own. "Get into your dress and let's go."
---
The whole ride in the incredibly stupid limousine that the others thought would be just awesome to rent was filled with loud music and even louder friends. Hayley picked out this dress for me that I guess is in my comfort zone. It went up to my elbows in the sleeve length and went a little above mid thigh, so I naturally wore a pair of see through leggings underneath. The dress was plain black, so I guess it was kind of classy(oh baby, you're a classic like a little black dress). I slipped on some cute boots though because I will not dare party in pumps, God forbid. The girls were all in dresses while the guys were keeping it casual in button downs and jeans. Patrick wore a T-shirt with his light blue denim jacket over because this club has this dress code rule that you have to be dressed well or something to be allowed in.
"You okay?" Patrick snaps me out of my thoughts, his calloused fingers brushing my trembling hand that's tugging the hem of my dress down. My head shoots up quickly, startling him but making him smile nonetheless. I blush red when I see his cute grin, making him blush himself.
"Something doesn't feel right about this." I whisper to him, leaning closer into his side. Patrick raises his eyebrow at me, his arm wrapping almost protectively around my shoulders. He leans down and presses his soft lips to mine, kissing me slowly.
"You'll be safe with us, I swear to you right now." Patrick says to me, his lips barely off of mine. My lungs are tightening in place because this is too much for me. "If anything happens, I will protect you with my life."
"Patrick," I exhale, my poor, poor heart twisting in my chest, but he smiles sweetly and shakes his head. Patrick Stump, everyone.
"You can't change my mind. I'll do it." Patrick tells me, and the scary thing is that I believe it.
--
I lean against the bar, looking down at my smartphone in my trembling hands. The mini clock at the top of my screen is telling me that it's already one AM, but the others show no sign of slowing down. They weren't drunk or anything- or maybe they were the slightest bit intoxicated. All I know is that after the Drunk History incident, Brendon has an extremely high alcohol tolerance level, as does my brother and his friends. I glance behind me, my eyes scanning the club and trying to see past the crowds of people among people. I see Patrick near the stereo, a red beer cup filled with plain water in his hands. He's grinning widely and speaking to Tyler, probably going on about something that makes the both of them happy. I grin at the sight of my boyfriend so happy.
My boyfriend. Man, will I never get tired of that.
"Boo," Hands land in my shoulder, startling me and making me turn around in fear. My eyes are wide and my breathing is quick and unnatural, trying to glare at the person behind me, or in front of me.
"You're so dead, Hayley." I say to her as she laughs easily and bounces off in her dress, getting lost in the crowd of people. I stay there for a moment, looking at all the drunk people around my age and up, partying like they had nothing else to live for. People in extremely short dresses grinding up on people in ties and jeans, beer in their hands while a whiny singer is blasting over the loudspeakers. The bass shakes the floor, pulsing through our bones and possessing everyone it touches. It's crazy. I sigh and turn around, glancing at my cup of water. I let my fingers wrap around it, and I'm about to pick it up and take a sip when my brain starts screaming at me.
I take the cup graciously from Derek, smiling up at him as I bring the rim to my red stained lips. I take a sip and ignore the burn down my throat as I swallow. I don't like beer. Does it always taste this bad?
The sudden flash slaps me right in the face, and I'm setting the cup down, listening to my better judgement. I wasn't looking at it- never leave my drink unattended. It's so absurd that as a female, I have to be taking all these extra precautions because some assholes decided that it is cool to attack girls.
"You know," Elisa's shrill voice is right behind me, her hand resting on my shoulder as she takes a seat in the bar stool right next to me. My back stiffens and my throat tightens as Elisa looks at me, a smile on her face. "it wouldn't have had to come to this."
"Come to what?" I say, daring my voice to waver. And it doesn't. I turn my head and muster the bitchiest look I can. "By the way, smart of you to try to intimidate me."
"Trying seems to hardly be the right word." Elisa laughs lightly, dipping her head slightly as the vibrations rumble. Her fingers, manicured of course, are working on unclasping the small purse in her hands. She pulls out an object, black in colour, and presses it into my side. I hear something click. "I'd say succeeding."
A gun.
-/::\-
HAHAHAHA LEFT YOU HANGING DIDNT I? Hmmm? Hmmmmmmmm?
WE ARE SO CLOSE TO EIGHT K THANK YOU SO SO SO SO SO MUCH! Please comment and tell me what you think? Next chapter will be out quickly and will be much longer. Thanks!
-Stay Classy, Young Volcanoes
•LeaveNoWordsUnspoken