A/N: OH MY GOD. TWO UPDATES IN ONE DAY!! WOOT WOOT! :D ANYWAYS, You guys may hate me because of this. But I am not changing what I want for this story. Now, before you ask, yes, I changed Brooke. A lot. She is now Taylor Mansen (You have no clue how long it took for me to find her xD) and yeah. This takes place a year after the last chapter. And I LOVE THE SONG IN THE SIDE. Also, for her outfit, PLEASEE go to the external link :) Kay, bye <3 ALSO. THIS IS IN BROOKE POV XD OKAY NOW BYE for real <#
Brooke's P.O.V
A year. Who knew in one year, so much could change. I ignored every text. Every call. Everything changed. I guess I am dying of a broken heart, because I turned into something I swore I'd never be. I died my hair a nearly white blonde, I always wore a thick ring of eyeliner and plenty of mascara, I become more pale, I was anorexic, keeping the thin body I needed to make a living. During the days, I would sometimes play my guitar and cover songs for money, but at night...................I guess you could say, I became a prostitute. Hell, that was exactly what I was. Selling my love to a different man every night. I was ashamed. I was numb. Empty. Emotionless. As of right now, I was reminiscing on when I lived here at one time. You see, growing up, my mom switched her religion back and forth. Either Christian or Catholic. And when we were in New York, we happened to be Catholic. And I was going to our old church. As my heels of my boots clicked against the sidewalk, I tugged my leather jacket closer. My fragile frame was clothed with a lacey, red and black corset. Black, thin tights clenched my legs with a small, tutu-like skirt. It was red with a rough material sticking out, which was black. A leathery, smooth, belt-like material was on the very top. My hair was in it's normal, loose curls and my make-up was a dark ring of eyeliner and mascara, with deep, cherry red lipstick. It felt weird, going back. Maybe because over the year I had been here, I have been a complete sinner. I earned multiple tattoos, which were: On my left wrist, where I never fully hid my scars of cutting, I had in sketchy, red letters "VICTIM", on my right arm, A large butterfly was on the top of my hand and smaller ones trailer in a spiral around my arm, while the word 'Always' was printed on my inner, lower forearm, 'Forever' was on my outer upper arm. On my right foot I had a swirling black pattern, pink flowers dabbed on top. Angel wings were on my back, my shoulder blades. But they were wilting, almost like a rose dying. Which I had on my left, lower leg. It was on fire, too. For Damaged Rose. On my right side of my stomach, I had swirling, thin lines and and stars in between. At the top was a well crafted flower. But on the other side was a list. It said on top 'What I Remember:" And the things listed were: Our California, His Eyes, Tears, Blood, Pain, Numbness, Letting Them Down, The Falling, His Memory, Katy, The Bands, Mom, Harmony, No More Melody, A Perfect Heart, A Hollow Heart, No Heart. At the very end, I had one more added last week. "My New Addictions." Under it all, in huge, deep, deep, blue letters, was "Forever More." The very last tattoo was an older one, which had been a 'tramp stamp' and said "Unbroken". Well, i went in and had the put an X over Un. Now it just says "Broken". Besides that, I still had a tattoo from my age of sixteen, on my neck. And it said "I Scream." on the other side it said "Nothing Comes Out". It was in thin, small writing. Barely noticeable. But they stars on each side of my lower neck were. I put but the small ball piercing on my chin, and always were my belly piercing. I had changed. For the worst. I had made it to the church now, and as I walked in, I dipped my finger softly into the water put in the front. I made a cross over me and at the end, whispering to only myself, "Lord please Bless me." I looked up, watching the very end. The priest, the all so familiar one I grew up to, finished and people flooded out. I took the chance and stepped forward, against the crowd. Thankfully, I made it to the front right before the man left.
"FATHER!" I called out. He flinched, recognizing me before he even looked.
"Hello Brooke," He smiled, taking in my features.
"I know...........I've changed." I whispered softly. He gave me a sincere look and walked towards me, embracing me in a hug.
"I've heard your singing. You have talent, such a shame you put it to waste," He sighed. I nodded, this was the same thought I had every-night.
"How are you?" I guess coming here, I was seeking comfort. I had been void of that for a while.
"Okay. I heard you got a new tattoo?" I blinked for a while and nodded once more, very slowly.
"Would you care to show it?" He offered. They must have said each tattoo I get meant something. I slowly mover my jacket and back of my shirt, for him to see the wings.
"Well, I heard they said you thought you were a sinner, but this proves it" He tsk'd. I clamped my eyes shut for a millisecond and gave him a small smile.
"The point of the tattoo, sir." He chuckled lightly.
"Do you miss them? Your bands?" He moved up to the pandemonium, organizing papers.
"I can't. I'm never going back anyways," My voice was flat, As always.
"Well, it was nice talking, but I have to go. It was really nice to see you again, dear. But don't forget to.............make the right choices," With that, he left. And I made my way out of the church, into the night.
"I can never make the right damn choices," I said too myself, making my way to the large parking lot I usually wait for clients at. When I got there, I was shocked to see someone already waiting. Shrugging it off, I walked over. When I was millimeters away, they rolled down their window. I leaned up against the car, poking my head in.
"How much?" The man's gruff voice asked.
I shrugged for the hundredth time. "I don't care. Depends on what you want."
"I want to talk," His voice was clearer, and he looked up at me. Those eyes. Voice.
"Stephen?" I hissed in shock. He gave a curt nod, and motioned for me to get in the passenger seat.
"What do you want?" I repeated.
"Why'd you run?" He raised an eyebrow at me, still focused on driving.
"I'd die of a broken heart sooner or later.." I mumbled, looking out the window.
"Well, do you have a place to stay?" I shook my head.
"No, I usually stay over at my client's house. And leave in the early morning." He seemed startled but it wore off.
"Well tonight you will stay at a friend's."
"You're my friend now?"
"For one night." He nodded. I sighed, laying back in the dark seat of the mustang. I watched from my corner of his eyes, as he pulled out a pack of cigarettes, and a lighter. He pulled two out, and watched me for a second before handing it to me.
"How'd you know?" I said sarcastically. He brushed it off. Once I had lit the poison, I took a long drag.
"So, you do smoke?" He investigated.
"Yep," I popped the p, and went back to staring at the dark night.
"Hm."
"What exactly did you want to talk about?" I questioned as I looked at him again.
"Memories. What's left, anyways?" I sent him a death glare, but gave up.
"My tattoo."
"What?"
"My tattoo tells me what I remember." I spoke softly, slowly, like a small scared child. I lifted the corset enough for him to read the list.
"New addictions?" He finished.
"Drugs.. Sex....Alcohol.....Smoking......" I ticked off each thing and looked to him again.
"Wow."
"What?" I snapped before taking another drag of smoke.
"Sex?" He asked something no one else would.
"Yeah, I guess it feels normal now." I stared straight ahead, staring at nothing.
For the first time in my life, someone found me. They were looking for me, and they wouldn't try to force me into something. They just wanted to show me someone was willing to listen, to help.
And at that moment I loved Stephen for a split second, because he was the only one to do so at the moment.