AN- 2021 edit- nvm im still awake
"It has to be tonight, Noah."
Jace had left the house with his usual unapproachable guard up, so Pace and Bethany came over after dinner, and were now sitting on my bedroom carpet.
I groaned. "Can't you guys just come in with me? I won't be able to do much by myself. And we all know his room is like, no man's land. Uncharted territory." Well. That wasn't exactly true anymore. "I'm fearing for my life, here. My life."
"Stop being such a pussy," Bethany said matter of factly. "He's not actually going to hurt you."
"Easy for you to say," I hissed. "You're not the one who's going to be leaving here in a bodybag tonight."
"Fine," Lee said, huffing. "We'll help you with the main bit. But if anything goes wrong, we're not coming back for your corpse."
The four of us arranged our weapons of torture, (the deadliest including honey and glue) and changed into black clothing to be dramatic. We heard Jace stumble into his room at around midnight, and from the sound of crashing coming from behind the walls, he was probably drunk, which meant he would be out cold. Just to be safe, we waited half an hour before gently creaking open his bedroom door. We used the subtle light from our phones to see what we were doing as we tried to be as quiet as possible. Not laughing became even harder as we started hastily redecorating his room. We shushed Pacey's loud cackle in between breathy, terrified laughter, before Lee turned to me, barely visible in the dark of the large bedroom.
"Quick," he whispered. "Go up to him."
"Why am I always the one who has to be sacrificed?"
"Because you're the virgin," Pacey hissed.
I narrowed my eyes at him. "So are you!"
He scoffed. "Not spiritually."
"Guys," Beth interrupted, her low voice on the verge of cracking into a laugh. "We need to hurry up. Just go, Noah. We'll be right behind you."
Even though I knew they couldn't see, I rolled my eyes and carefully made my way to Jace's bedside, thinking of what I could do. My vision now adjusted, I took in his unconscious features for a second. His bed hair was in a thick, dark mess around his forehead, and his plump lips were parted open slightly against his pillow. He twitched his nose slightly and I fought the urge to smile at how innocent the supposed bad boy looked in his sleep. He was a knife, most of the time. But for once, he looked soft enough to touch without cutting myself at the edges.
"Noah, hurry up." Beth hissed quietly at me.
I blinked out of my trance, and then hurriedly took out some whipped cream from my bag. "Sorry," I lied. "I was thinking about what to do."
Distracting myself from why I had wanted to watch him sleep, I popped the cap off of the bottle with nervous hands. But just as I was about to squeeze, I stepped closer and knocked the bed frame slightly with my foot. We all collectively froze at the sound and sucked in a breath, my eyes going wide in anticipation. I watched in shock as the boy in front of me scrunched up his nose, and sleepily opened his eyes. I heard my friends scramble behind me and run to the door, instantly abandoning me.
"Guys," I hissed in exasperation, frantically looking around as if I suddenly had a magical solution. I couldn't bolt. He was looking straight at me.
Right behind me my ass, Beth.
"Noah?" For some reason, fear wasn't the only thing I felt when I heard his voice say my name, gentle, yet rumbling with the roughness of sleep.
"Uh," I stammered, still frozen in front of him. "Go back to sleep. I'm not here."
He blinked in confusion at me, his tired eyes narrowed.
He's still drunk. Thank god.
"But I can see you."
I opened and closed my mouth at him, my heart hammering in my chest. "That's because... this is a dream. You're dreaming about me."
For a moment, the half awake boy looked confused, before his face relaxed into an almost frustrated expression.
"Ugh," he mumbled as he turned over. "Not again."
Again? What the hell does that mean?
I shook my confused thoughts away, just wanting to be out of there as quickly as possible. Once I was sure he was no longer awake, I started carefully squirting the cream into his hair. He twitched as I added glue and honey, but to my relief he didn't stir. He had seemed like such a light and restless sleeper, that I assumed he must have drunken a lot to be this unresponsive. I wondered if that was something he did. Drink until he didn't have to stay awake and live with himself. I made a mental note of his technique to use later.
I bit my lip, considering drawing something on his face.
It's a terrible idea. This entire thing is a suicide mission.
I looked at the bag in my hands, and then looked at him.
Why the fuck not?
~~~
After a long night of me making sure the others knew what terrible friends they were for leaving me to die, we all fell asleep in my room. Well, I mostly stared at the ceiling and imagined sleeping, but I was okay with it. I was way too nervous that Jace was going to come at us any moment with a chainsaw to even close an eye.
The next morning, we woke up to silence.
"He must be too hungover to wake up," Beth said quietly, already getting out her phone to film.
"He's gonna kill us," Lee whispered with a hard swallow, staring into space. "I seriously regret becoming friends with you two. You're both a bad influence."
"Relax, it's hilarious. Besides, there's no better start to a morning than by creating a little anarchy." Pacey beamed.
"I'm deeply concerned with how enjoyable you're finding this." I said, eyeing him warily.
He just winked at me, before hauling himself up and grabbing a reluctant Beth by the arm. "C'mon guys, I'm hungry."
"Ugh, fine. Let me set up my camera first." She propped her phone up on my desk so it was facing the wall of my bed and both doors. "Noah, you want anything?"
"Don't talk to the strange boy, Bethany. He doesn't like breakfast," Lee cut in before I could say a word.
I shot him an affectionate middle finger as I scrolled through my phone, briefly grimacing as one of Brandy's posts came up on my feed. Helena and Chesca's third partner in evil. Without even realising what I was doing, I found myself going through her following list to see if Jace's name popped up. I didn't know why I cared enough to bother, but even as I thought that to myself, I found my fingers typing in his name to the Instagram search bar. Of course, he was private with a couple thousand followers, few of whom he followed back. Something strange in me was slightly disappointed that I couldn't see his pictures. It must have been that I was just curious at what obnoxiously narcissistic things he liked to post, and how many idiotic, adoring fans he had. That was it.
Just as I was about to give up and turn off my phone, there was a thud, and a familiar yell. "What in the fresh fuck?"
The en suite door slammed open. If I wasn't so afraid, I would have burst out into hysterics at his appearance. His hair was matted, his body and face covered in various substances. A few loose feathers were stuck to his skin here and there. A piece of art. Van Gogh could never.
The best part of all was the pink glittery 'princess' that I'd temporarily tattooed across his cheek. It had to be my finest work yet; but I was far from safe. I barely had time to drop my phone and scramble up before the seething, shirtless boy was roughly pushing me against the wall.
"You don't know what the fuck you've done, Quinn."
I stammered with nerves, trying not to look at the pink cursive writing on his face. "I, uh..."
He growled impatiently, his face close to mine. "You what, Quinn? Spit it out."
My heart was beating so loudly that I was afraid he was listening to every rapid beat. I should've just backed down, let terror win- but something in me couldn't resist. "I was just gonna say... that I like the new look. It suits you."
My voice barely came out as a whisper, but due to our proximity, it was enough to make Jace look away, chuckling humorlessly. "You know what?" He said, smiling falsely. "You wanna play? Fine, pretty boy. Game on."
His angry eyes flickered down to my lips before he left, his anger hot in the air; he was probably going to find his brother to beat him up, or something. Lee and I had enjoyed many years of friendship. If it meant I lived, I was cool with his untimely demise. But with a jolt of dread, I realised that Jace would never just let this go. He was probably planning something ten times worse than what we did. My head shot to the open door as I heard Lee's frightened scream coming from somewhere on the first floor, and a couple of crashes. Pacey's roar of laughter soon followed; either at Jace's appearance, or the fact that Lee was probably fighting for his life.
My pulse still erratic, I dared to cross over to Jace's bedroom to see the damage.
It was a bloodbath.
There were water balloons littering the floor, and his bed was covered in cream, feathers and honey. "Monica is gonna kill us." I muttered to myself.
Well. Not if her son did first.
~~~
After a day of Lee and I ranting about how psychotic his brother was late into the evening, I sat in my bedroom alone listening to music. I tried not to, but I couldn't stop myself from staring at the black chalk board. I didn't know why I was irritated that Jace hadn't continued our written conversation. It's not like he'd even been in my room since this morning, but I found myself almost annoyed that he hadn't replied. I guess I just wanted to see whatever brain dead thing came out of his stupid, pretty head next.
There was no time to think about Jace's stupid, pretty head, though. You Belong With Me was playing. My greatest shame. My greatest weakness. But alas, I was the antelope, and Fearless the subtle predator, my advanced ears fine tuned to detect it playing from any 100 mile radius.
I knew I was going to lip sync into my hairbrush, because I had no choice. And God, I hated myself. But God was not present in that room. Only Taylor Swift.
you belong with me- taylor swift (forgive me for how embarrassing and cringe this part is lmao idc its cute)
Jace
After hours of trying to scrub the pink, glittery, mark of death that had been fixed onto my cheek and making little progress in erasing it, I stormed out onto my balcony. My hands itched for a cigarette, and I fumbled in the pocket of my loose shorts for my favorite lighter.
There was nothing there.
Frowning, I searched again, only to come up empty for the second time. I knew I had various other lighters scattered around the house, but for some reason, the hit never felt as satisfying when it wasn't from something I could call my own. I definitely wasn't possessive, or anything.
I was vaguely aware of Noah blasting some embarrassing song from his room to my right, but I was too lost in thought to pay any attention. Groaning in frustration, I took the unlit cigarette from my mouth and ran a hand through my hair, only stopping short as my brain figured something out.
Noah.
I slowly turned, narrowing my eyes at his side of the balcony.
That little, stealing, bitch.
That was when I saw it, edging towards the windowed doors that led straight to his bedroom.
"I'm in my room, it's a typical Tuesday night..."
Closer, and closer, and- there. I could see him. Except, I didn't know what exactly I expected to see.
But it certainly, without a doubt, wasn't the sight of Noah batting his eyelashes, hairbrush in hand, as he stared into the mirror, and lip synced.
The second hand embarrassment was staggering.
When the chorus started, it was as if he were playing to millions of people. In his head, he probably looked like Mariah Carey. But all I could see was an eighteen year old boy, clutching his fist to his chest as he passionately performed. So, naturally, I took out my phone.
What an idiot.
I hadn't even noticed myself absent-mindedly smiling as I watched him, letting out chuckles of pure astonishment and the occasional pained wince. Maybe it was because I hadn't genuinely smiled in a long time. I didn't know why I was starting right then, but I didn't think about it for long, simply dismissing it as joy at the thought of having something over Noah that I could bully him with. Except, my chest was warm. The kind of warm that didn't come around very often.
"Nerd," I muttered under my breath with an unbelieving half smile at the way he, still quietly singing, played with his hair and tried to act sheepish in front of the imaginary boy in his head.
Girl.
I meant girl.
"I know you better than that, what you doing with a girl like that?"
He tilted his head into his makeshift microphone as he started the chorus. It was strange, seeing him like this. So carefree. This was who he was when he thought no one was watching.
Happy.
His eyes scrunched up as he passionately mouthed the words, the hairbrush clenched in the pale palms of his hands.
"Been here all this time, so why can't you see, you belong with me," Noah mouthed, dramatically falling back onto his bed with the last line. "You belong with me."
I hadn't even realised the song had changed, in my distraction. My genuine, soft breath of a smile was also unnoticed. I was too busy staring. Which to be honest, didn't make much sense either.
But in that moment, there was nothing daunting about either of us. He had been the most free I'd ever seen him, and some pitiful part of me envied it. I envied that I didn't dance in my room, or sing along to songs, or look like anything less than a prisoner in my own home. But an unfamiliar part of me glowed in the realization that he had seemed okay. For the short time he'd been staying with us he'd been trying to act happy, constantly surrounding himself with his painfully pathetic group of friends, as if the second he was left alone he would break. I still didn't fully understand what had happened to him, and yet I was the only one that noticed. Not that I was paying attention. I couldn't care less. But still, he was unsolved. Unknown.
Before I turned to leave, I looked at him one last time; but to my surprise, he was looking at the chalkboard in the far corner of his room. He huffed. Bored? No. Frustrated.
His irked expression fell slightly, relaxing into something almost melancholy. He stared at his ceiling and I stared at him. Almost in a trance, I studied the soft angles of his face, and the gentle way that he looked in the golden lamp light. He was pretty when he was sad. His dark, messy hair waved over his forehead, and something in me that I couldn't describe itched as he ran a hand through it. I'd never felt that itch before looking at anyone. Maybe it was because I'd never felt so hostile towards anybody before. I'd never wanted to hate and ruin someone so badly in my life.
But I also wanted to look at him a little longer.
And no matter how long I spent awake that night asking myself, I still couldn't begin to understand why.
AN- this one is kinda a filler chapter, but pls stick with me. it's gonna get interesting soon!! and yes, ik noah singing taylor swift is cringe. idc he's cute and we've ALL danced around our rooms like we're in a teen movie. (ik he's been through trauma but i do shit like this even when im in the depths of despair so stop judging) BUT IM SORRY IK IT WAS PAINFUL LMAO
-b