A/N: New story, thought I’d try something new. I don’t expect it to be long or anything but when I can’t think of anything to write I’ll update this one ‘kay?

Disclaimer: My characters, my story, don’t touch. I don’t own the name Sid Vicious or Myspace hehe.

Warning: Male on male content, sex, drugs, prostitution, rape, incest, child molestation, cutting, suicidal tendencies. Yup, pretty much the whole shebang. You don’t likey, then don’t read!

“This better be the good stuff Cory, or I’m fucking you up.”

“Sid, my man, have I ever let you down before?” the shorter guy asked pushing his chipped finger nails deep into his Norma Jean hoodie.

Sid eyed him trying to think of any bad trips he had from Cory’s drugs.

“Yeah, fucker, yeah you have! ‘Member that one time I flipped out running around naked at Tweak’s party?!”

Cory burst out in laughter, and then coughed up a nasty mess caused by one to many cigarettes. He spit in the corner and continued to chuckle, Sid made a face.

“Yeah, I heard about that! The guys’ said that you kept screaming that the evil pink monkeys were trying to shave your balls!” Cory held his stomach, tears almost leaking.

Sid sucked his teeth glaring.

“That wasn’t funny, asshole. I almost got hit by a car.” He said dryly. It had taken his friends twenty minutes to calm him down.

Cory shrugged. “Hey people have good trips, and bad ones, don’t blame me that your mind’s warped.”

“Are you gonna get me my weed or what?!” Sid demanded not wanting to talk about anymore of his embarrassing moments.

“Yeah, yeah I got ya covered, Sid Vicious.”

Sid handed him the cash and then sat back on the ratty blue couch waiting for his friend to go get his goodies. He causally itched his arm from the new tattoo of a gun with blood shooting out of it that turned into red butterflies as it wrapped around his arm. He had a new one to add to the bunch, his whole right arm was almost covered now, and he loved each one.

Sid chewed on one of his lip rings as he looked around. The place was a straight up house for junkies, guys, girls, things just lying around twitching, and moaning. The place was dark and hidden so even the cops had to search hard to find it. There was garbage lying around, random snack bags from when people got the munchies, condoms, bent spoons from heroine, needles, everything. Sid thanked God that he hadn’t gotten this bad.

Rubbing his cold hands on his tight jeans, Sid moved his current brown hair with copperish blonde streaks on the left and right to the side of his face with one hand, the movement was pointless since his hair always came right back.

Pausing he looked at a strand of his hair, the color needed to be changed, his hair changed more than most of the guy’s in here took baths. Truthfully he forgot the natural color. Maybe he could make it black, he hadn’t dyed it black in awhile, then again every scene kid and their mom had hair that color. He could go back to black and pink.

Sid looked up at the guy shaking in the corner, muttering incoherent things.

‘Looks like someone had a little too much meth.’

His studying of the guy stopped when Cory’s gay ass giggle was heard and a bag of bud was dropped into his lap.

“Told you I always deliver,” he stared at Sid and then his dark eyes widened. “I got new stuff, man, ohmigod I can’t believe I forgot to tell you, you’re gonna fly like seriously fly, like the colors, ohmigod the colors, Sid!” he took a deep breath, eyes closed, a full body chill running down his spine, as he quickly remembered his trip a few hours ago.

“You have to try it.” He ended.

Sid watched his friend strangely, most people would have freaked out if someone just started shouting in their face like that, when seconds ago they were all calm, but Sid was use to it. All his friend’s were like that, he was like that, very animated when they wanted to get their point across.

But then again Cory was a little out there himself.

Sid looked over at him, his upper lip doing a twitch. “Yeah, because I definitely wanna look like that freak in the corner.” He pointed.

Cory rolled his eyes and then jumped on the couch, Sid bounced up a little from the sudden weight. Cory leaned in to his friend, shoving his hands in his lap and sitting Indian style.

“Sammy’s just whacked out. He’s always been that way, seriously.”

“Yeah, whatever.” He needed to get out of here. “I’ll see ya okay?”

“Later.”

Sid got up sighing then straightened out his skinny jeans, the second he walked out of the ally and onto the street; he paused and lit up a well desired cig. He glanced back at the ally that he had just come from and shook his head. He always ended up there, a house of potheads, prostitutes, transsexuals, pimps, anything you could name.

And why did he go there?

Because the drugs were damn good, kids.

He walked down the street that he use to be terrified to come down, fear of being robbed, raped, finger poked in the butt by some buff guy injected with steroids in a bunny suit, which had happened to him once.

But now after two years coming down here was nothing.

“’Ey Papi! You going home early tonight or you gonna party with us?!” a group of obvious transsexual hookers shouted from the other side of the street.

“Gotta try out the good shit, ladies, not tonight!”

They blew him kisses and then continued on their way, shouting up at any guy that would pass by.

Sid looked up at the sky for a little bit then closed his eyes, he inhaled the poison of his cig and then blew the smoke out in a big O. Walking up to his car, he put out his cigarette with his messy converse and put in the key to open his car door.

He didn’t know what made him pause, he didn’t know what made him stop and look around in the dark night. Sid learned that when he came down here he kept to himself, he got his drugs, talked a little, and then when on his merry way. He didn’t get caught up in other people’s shit, if he saw something he’d pretend he didn’t, that was just how the streets worked.

So when he saw the body in the corner, just lying there, still and lifeless he should have just got in his car and ignored it, but he didn’t.

Sid looked around checking to see if anybody saw what he saw, but of course no one was around, and even if they were they’d keep going, the unwritten rules. Chewing on his full lips out of habit he rubbed his hands on his pants again and walked up slowly.

The body was just lying there in nothing but a thin black shirt, and tight jeans.

‘Probably a hooker.’

Girl, or guy they all wore the tight jeans better view for clients. But the guy didn’t look like a hooker, no, instead he looked like him, a kid that might have very well gone to his school and ended up in the wrong place.

Sid looked around one last time, narrowing his eyes at the guy; he couldn’t see a face from his position.

“Hey. Hey you awake?” he asked. He kicked the guy with his shoe to turn him over; the body moved over with a thump but still didn’t even twitch.

Kneeling down Sid looked at the guy’s face closely, he was beautiful, not that he was fully gay or anything. It was just if he saw a beautiful thing he’d acknowledge it.

The guy’s full pouty lips were slightly open; they looked a mixture between blue and purple, yup the kid looked pretty dead, then again Sid had never seen a dead body. Maybe he should take pictures on his sidekick and post it on myspace, that wasn’t illegal right? It might be kinda weird, but not illegal. Hell, if he saw someone with pictures like that, he’d add them.

The guy looked around his age eighteen or a little younger; he had on a studded belt so he either was a hooker that had money and pretended to act normal, or like Sid guessed, didn’t belong down here. There was also a small Monroe above the right side of his lip.

The most interesting part of him was his hair, a jet black that was long in the front swaying to the right, his bangs were a mixture of highlighted pink, white, and violet. The back of his hair that Sid could see was cut short.

“So he’s a typical scene kid.” Sid said nodding his head. “Hey.” He poked the kid’s shoulder but nothing, so he shoved him harder and got a twitch spasm out of the guy.

Sid stood up quickly staring, the guy twitched a little more and then went to dead weight once again, but this time he was letting out these loud ass snores.

“He’s trashed then.” But he didn’t smell like alcohol.

Sid let out a girly scream when an ambulance suddenly rushed past him; usually he heard those things a mile off. He could have waved them down but they were going too fast. That was when he realized just how quiet it was which was rare for the night streets down here.

With his left arm hugging onto his torso and his right rubbing his chin he narrowed his eyes at the body. He really did wish he had a pipe that blew bubbles just like a real detective.

Most people would have just left him there to fend for himself, most people would have just let him get kidnapped by whoever came across him.

Any other time Sid would have done the same, but right now he was feeling Christian and he wanted a new pet.

Let’s just say that lifting a body weighing only a little less than you was not easy. Sid dragged the kid over to his car and shoved him into the back seat hoping that nobody thought he was disposing of the dead body. Once he got him in he drove off as fast as he could smiling goofily.

“I’m such a badass.”

--

Sid was parking his car at his studio apartment about thirty minutes later and sat thinking. What to do? What to do? He lived in what most people would call the “rich area” like he gave a damn, all the people living around him were nosy as hell, and had nothing better to do than gossip, and sleep around with the gardener.

He was trying to think of a way to walk into his building because of course there was a guy at the front that greeted him and would ask who his friend was.

Rolling his honey brown eyes at the loud snores from the guy, he decided he’d tell the guard that his friend was so trashed he could barely walk, which was pretty true.

He got out of his car and dragged the trashed kid up so his arm was hanging on Sid, as was most of his weight.

“Dude, you are so gonna owe me when you wake up.” He hissed pulling him up and walking to the entrance.

The guy at the front entrance eyed him strangely at the body hanging off of him but Sid gave him a sly smile and wink explaining that he had a little too much to drink tonight, which he believed.

When they got into the elevator Sid leaned their bodies against the wall puffing, he had flunked P.E., he wasn’t very athletic, and his poor lungs were contaminated with whatever drugs he could get his hands on, in other words—he felt like he was dying.

This was fucking ridiculous.

“What the hell is wrong with me?”

When they got out of the elevator and to his door he dropped the lifeless body and unlocked the door dragging him in by his arms, he was too tired to play nice guy and pull him in easy.

He rose up his aching arms stretching and yawning.

“Home sweet home!” he cheered smiling. He scratched his messy hair and walked past his open living room that was connected to the kitchen. Everything in his house was pretty open except for his room, the bathroom, and a lame ass computer room.

Each wall had its different theme to it and always changed, right now there was a wall painted lime green and pink, a plain white wall with red paint splattered everywhere and fake bloody hand marks, and another that people who came into the house had to sign, that one he didn’t paint over.

There were as many posters of bands that he could get hung up and shitty paintings that he made when he was bored. There were happy paintings, suicidal paintings, and just ones that made you stare at them for hours which Sid loved the most. He loved watching people come in and stare forever coming up with the biggest explanation for it when really it was as simple as a pig taking a shit.

Sid liked simple things.

He even hung up drum sticks that he caught at shows by nails, and bloody bandanas that he kept when he taught a fellow scene kid a thing or two in the pit.

There was one wall that he called his “special wall” filled with graffiti of spray paint of different colors that he chose. Nobody else in the building was allowed to spray paint walls, but his dear old dad took care of it for him.

Sid locked the door back and left him there for awhile as he brushed his teeth and changed into some ducky pajama pants without a shirt.

When he got back into the large studio living room he pulled mystery guy on the love couch and sat on the coffee table staring at him with his chin in his hands.

Frankly he was bored, he wanted him to wake up already and his snoring was really annoying.

“You can wake up anytime now.” He said in a sing song voice.

He continued to watch him seeing now that the guy had a little bit of light freckles across his cute button nose. Sid fingered the guy’s bottom lip someone obviously had hit him there recently since it was busted.

Sid pouted he was seriously depressed now that his new pet wouldn’t talk to him, and he wasn’t in the mood to smoke anymore, not alone that is.

Getting up he turned on some Dr. Acula as loud as he could and did a little hardcore dancing on his own to wake up more. He ended up running out of breath and a growling tummy being to be fed.

The weird guy on the couch would probably be hungry too. Sid looked through his cabinets; he hated cooking, so Ramón noodles it was!

Sid was drumming his purple fingernails on his black marble counter glancing around at his random paintings of shit.

He went to his cabinet and grabbed his good ol’ friend Jack Daniels and poured himself a few shots. He might as well make sure he got a good night sleep tonight, right kiddos?

The kettle went off and he made the two bowls for his guest and himself. Just as he turned to put the liquor bottle back into the cabinet a loud, really loud thump and a “Fuck!” was shouted from across the room, as well as a bottle shattering on the ground and Sid’s screeching yelp.

“Oh no, Jack!”

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