This was the first time that Rory had met him

A/N: yes I know so fucking lame to start a new story but I just haven’t been able to organize my thoughts much. I keep on getting way to many ideas and can’t pick one story to stick too. This was the only one that I was able to for the moment. Don’t worry I would never stop the other stories! They will be finished. I should have a new chapter of Fated to Pretend soon. I love my editor but she’s so busy and hardly responds, anyone interested in beta-ing this? Maybe others? I send chapters in clumps but when I do I really like to get them edited quickly yah?

Sorry if there’s a lot of mistakes I had to just update it with my own editing. Hopefully this story interests you guys, please review I need the extra push right now with writing so it’ll be appreciated. Like I said I have a few chapters for this story so you won’t have to wait for an update.

This was the first time that Rory had met him. This was their first meeting. At the time it wasn’t a big deal, it wasn’t considered an actual meeting because Rory didn’t think it would ever lead anywhere.

You meet people all the time, but it doesn’t really matter if you don’t anything after this meeting, if you don’t talk to them again, approach them again then this meeting never occurred, it was pointless, just like a lot of things in Rory’s life.

Rory had pushed and squeezed past the hipsters, you know them. The ones with the scarves, indie hair cuts, drugged out faces, trashy looks that passed for original and would probably be mimicked by the next bystander. Those ones.

He gasped for air in the overly crowded club as he finally found the bathroom, if you could call it that much. The large door had to be shoved open with all his might and the second he walked in he could smell the stench of urine and whatever else was inside.

The walls were decorated with graffiti, signatures, doodles, numbers, comments, and various Polaroid photos taped up of that people had taken in the club.

He stumbled inside and would have just walked straight to the urinal, because guys just knew that you went straight to the bathroom to do your business and nothing else, no looks, no words, no anything.

But this time, he couldn’t help himself. His head jerked to the left, and he paused mid step when he first heard the mumbles of voices, and then saw the two figures against the wall, well one was anyway.

Later, Rory would recognize him, later it would all come together. But at the moment all he could do was stare in surprise, finding it hard to pretend that he didn’t notice him.

And there he was.

There with his long black vest, open up wide with the ends of the material spread out on his slender hip bones as his back rested against the wall arched and sweaty. His hair was a dark mess, wet and stuck to his gentle face, his eyes hooded with even darker bags underneath them.

Rory was pretty sure that he was asleep, standing up in the bathroom.

His long necklace with a white feather at the end of it, came down to his belly button and slid to the side along with whatever body sweat.

When Rory’s brown eyes glanced down and he saw what was keeping this guy up, he gaped and quickly looked back up at him.

A blonde girl, in just as little clothing was crouched on the ground tending to his nether regions.

His eyes finally opened a little bit more, and a zoned out smirk appeared on his mouth, a dimple on the left side of his mouth poking.

Rory went over to the urinal and tended to himself, trying to ignore the two as the girl started to raise her voice.

Rory swallowed and zipped up his pants, that was probably the longest piss of his life. He had just stood there basically, listening on to this odd pairs conversation, if you could call it that much.

He tried to make himself as small and nonexistent as he possibly could when he walked over to the sink that looked like it was once white but that was years ago. This poor sink had probably seen the worse of many things as had these walls had. Rory looked up at the ceiling and around the walls, yup seen a lot of things.

“Fine then, you can make it to the stage yourself.” The girl suddenly blurted, Rory tried to wash his hands as quietly as possible and didn’t make eye contact with her as she shoved her way to the cracked mirror and then out the room.

Rory looked to the floor where the guy still sat, one of his skinny legs went up and he rested his scarred up arm on top of it. The cigarette he had lit was burning swiftly, Rory was pretty sure that the guy had forgotten that he even had it in his hands.

Looking back the mirror, Rory licked his dry lips and stared at his reflection. He needed sleep. Here he was judging the guy on the floor, marking on the bags under his eyes and he hadn’t even taken a good look at himself.

‘I need sleep,’ his insomnia was getting worse. He’d start to lose it if he didn’t get a good night sleep. Or better yet he could actually maybe write a novel, become insane just like that no named guy in Fight club.

Rory smirked.

‘Yeah, I could be like him, I could become him.’

Tossing a piece of his curly black hair from his face, he sighed and made a face at the brown gunk stacking up in the corner of the sink. His mind was roaming, his thoughts were roaming, he needed to take action. He was stalling in the men’s bathroom like some sort of pervert.

Why didn’t he leave already? He was starting to get that stalker vibe from himself? But he couldn’t help this. He couldn’t help but get interested; he couldn’t help but be involved now.

“I have a demon inside of me,” a voice mumbled from the ground. Rory’s eyes darted to the side at the guy just sitting there, disappearing to himself.

‘I don’t think he was talking to me,’ Rory thought. Guys like that talked to themselves all the time: that was the artistic thing to do. People mimicked it, they dwelled in it, it was art, and it was insanity.

“Did you hear me?” the guy said aloud. His voice was soft, delicate for someone with his scattered appearance.

Rory cleared his throat, turning to now look at him head on.

“What?”

“I have a…,” he paused and finally took a puff from his cigarette, well what was left of it anyways. “I have a demon inside of me.”

Rory’s eyebrows rose and then his mouth thinned like it always did when he was trying to think of a way to respond to something. He would get this intense gaze on his face, his eyes would narrow, and this one dimple, only one, would peek out on the corner of his mouth.

“Like,” he wanted to choose his words right for some reason. This guy was probably use to it, he looked like the type that people chose their words precisely around him because they wanted to make the right impression.

“Like you’re possessed?” was the best he could come up with it.

The guy said nothing at first and Rory felt a little stupid. Maybe he really was talking to himself and Rory had just interrupted his artistic train of thought.

“Yeah,” he replied. “Yeah, like I’m possessed.”

The guy never looked up at him but he was obviously talking to him now. Rory took this time to walk a little closer to him. He stepped over his long legs spread out on the tile.

“How do you know it’s a demon?”

“I know,” the guy said.

Jacey.

Rory suddenly remembered. He was getting tired of trying to think of his name and finally it occurred to him that girl had called him that. Where had he heard that name before?

“He takes over when he wants, you know?” Jacey finally glanced over at him, just for a second though, nothing big, nothing to stop breathing for.

“Really?” Rory asked curiously. The thought that he was sitting in on the nasty floor having a conversation about this guys demon inside of him had never occurred. Nope, it was just the thought of listening to someone tell a story, gaining a piece of someone new that just might spark some idea in Rory’s head.

“Yeah, he does what he wants. I get blamed for it sometimes, sometimes I don’t.” Jacey said, his dark eyes traveled to his pale bruised arm, Rory’s eyes followed.

His arm looked like it was decaying, it was so pale that it almost had this light blue tint to it and these shadowy circles were spread about. There was dried blood in the corner, right where so many veins interconnected. Veins that looked overused on Jacey’s arm.

“Does he have a name? The demon?” Rory asked with a grin. It was all rather exciting in his opinion. Jacey was obviously a little odd, and that peaked his curiosity.

“He should, shouldn’t he?” Jacey glanced at him, and his finger tips darkened where the cigarette burned. Rory itched to put it out for him.

Didn’t that hurt? Didn’t he feel the burning?

“Something that he’ll be proud of though. I can’t give him a shit name.”

“Yeah, it has to be a good name.” Rory thought about it and his eyes lingered on the ashes that fell onto Jacey’s faint abs, it burned sort of, Jacey did nothing, didn’t even seem to notice. There was a faint flick of Jacey’s wrist and the cigarette stumbled to the ground.

The two sat in silence and then Jacey started to cough, he turned his head and spit whatever was creeping to come out. He shook his brown hair that framed his face.

“Sin.”

“Huh?” Rory asked, hearing the crowd cheer outside.

“Sin. His name is Sin.”

“What about Damien?” Rory offered. “Damien is supposed to be an evil name, everyone knows that.”

“Exactly,” Jacey looked over him, his eyes not moving. “Why would I want a name that everyone would suspect?”

Chills honestly went down Rory’s shoulders—his eyes.

“Your eyes are so dark, they’re like, black. Most people say they have black eyes and then they go out in the sun and it’s really just dark brown. But yours,” he paused. “Yours are actually black.”

“Like a demon.” Jacey said.

“Yeah, like a demon. Maybe Sin really is inside of you.”

That comment brought a smirk to Jacey’s mouth. “Now you’re starting to believe me. You didn’t at first, you thought I was joking, didn’t you?”

“Well yeah,” Rory said shyly.

“Most people think I’m joking, until they see Havoc.”

“Havoc?” Rory asked. There was so many references, so many things that Jacey knew that he didn’t. And he wanted to! He wanted to know everything. Every detail of this guy’s life.

“Havoc is my world.”

“Your world? Like something you created.”

Jacey laughed a deep throaty, too many cigarettes, lungs filled with tar laugh.

“It was there before I got there. I was just the one to wake it back up again. Sin comes from there; a lot of people come from there actually.” Jacey explained. Rory couldn’t stop watching him now, now all his attention was Jacey, all his anything was Jacey’s.

“Where is it?”

“Where isn’t it?” Jacey said right back. He left Rory to think about that and then looked straight across the room to the grimy wall.

“It’s my story, it’s my world. It’s who I am.”

‘He’s really deep, too bad I don’t know what the hell he’s talking about.’ Rory thought. He looked to the ground.

“You want a story, don’t you?” Jacey asked looking at him through the corner of his eye.

“Yeah,” Rory replied because it was that obvious. He wanted a story. He wanted to write about something that people would listen to regardless if it was true or not.

“Be in my story,” Jacey offered. He turned his whole upper body towards him now, inviting him in. “Be apart of Havoc, be in Havoc.”

“H-how?” Rory asked. Jacey smiled and Rory creamed, Jacey’s squinted when he smiled.

“That’s a good question, Havoc’s hard to get to. We’re nothing here, here we’re just specs, just these little creatures that can walk standing up that’s all. We’re nothing, we created nothing, we have nothing. Havoc is something.”

Jacey paused suddenly.

“Do I know you?” he asked.

Rory’s eyes widened. ‘Please don’t say he was one of those crazy people that suddenly forgot who you were and constantly needed to be reminded.’

“N-no,” he said shakily.

Jacey nodded. “I meet a lot of people. I don’t really remember them all the time. What’s your name?” he asked.

“Rory.”

Jacey huffed. “You can’t have that name if you want a story to tell, you need something that stands out. Something that’s bigger than a spec.”

Rory agreed with a nod, but he still didn’t know what to say to that. He always thought that his name did stand out. How many Rory’s did you know? Then again how many Jacey’s did you know?

“Skag,” Jacey said.

“What?”

“That’s your new name. Skag.” Jacey said nodding with himself.

“Isn’t that like a drug name or something?”

Jacey laughed and glanced at his decaying arm. “You could say that.” Jacey pulled himself up a little from the wall, not by much though, and made eye contact with Skag.

“Do you want to be apart of my story, Skag?” he asked.

The heavy door that Rory could hardly open suddenly burst open rather easily by a guy that was just as skinny as Jacey was.

‘How the hell did he get it open like that? Am I really that weak?’ Rory thought, his manhood falling drastically. The guy entered followed by two others with matching pissed off faces.

“Jacey what the fuck are you doing? Do you even remember that we have a show tonight or what? Shit, shit,” the guy in lead cursed. His brown hair was wild, curly in some parts, straight in others. His white V neck shirt showed off his rather thin body and long limbs.

“He looks pretty fucking gone right now.” The one in the striped black and white shirt said. His curly hair was borderline afro with the way it was going. He was tall like the rest of them with pretty blue eyes and pointed black dress shoes.

“Jacey!” The lead guy shouted crouching over his friend and smacking his face. Jacey glared obviously sobering up slightly from whatever zone he was placed into earlier.

“Mina came bitchin’ out there that you’re too fucked up to sing.”

“Well Mina’s a bitch,” Jacey mumbled to himself.

“Sing? You’re the lead singer?” Skag asked, watching Jacey try and formulate a sentence with his friends.

“Yeah,” Jacey smiled at him dreamily as he was dragged by the collar of his vest. His long limbs fumbled around and Skag was pretty sure that he was gonna fall over any second.

The V neck guy helped him up and the curly haired boy joined him, the third just stood there shaking his head and then walked out.

“You can’t do this to us right now, okay? We need this show. It’s sold out; people have been waiting for an hour.” V neck guy said holding Jacey’s face.

“Yeah, yeah, okay. I can sing.” Jacey promised blinking slowly.

“What are you on?”

Jacey just laughed to that. “Peter, shh,” Jacey said attempting to bring a hand up and close Peter’s eyes but his arm couldn’t go up that high.

Peter sighed loudly. “Come on,” he said pulling him along. Jacey rather violently shoved away, losing his balance and sliding against the wall.

“Skag has to come.” He said.

“What?”

“Skag has to come!” Jacey shouted darkly. Skag jumped on the floor and slowly brought himself to his feet.

Peter glared at him.

“Who the fuck are you?”

“I’m just…a friend.” Skag came up with.

“He’s apart of the story now, Pete,” Jacey said stumbling over his pointed dress shoes.

Peter shook his head. “We don’t have time for this.”

“He’s coming with me,” The demon inside of Jacey growled. Peter didn’t want a fight, he didn’t have time for a fight, or had time to deal with shit like this. He just needed to get Jacey on stage singing, that’s all that mattered to him at the moment.

A decently singing Jacey.

“Whatever, come on.” He said pulling him.

“Stay close, Skag, you don’t wanna fall off the ride.” Jacey giggled to himself as he pulled along trough the crowd.

Skag stayed close behind, the thought of the people that he came with didn’t even come up in his mind. This was something that wasn’t likely to happen again and he needed to take with it right now while it was here. Who knew how long Jacey was going to remember?

They led them back stage where people tried to clean off Jacey and fix whatever they could on him but he pushed them away and sat down on an unsteady chair.

Skag sat down on the floor in the corner, absent and invisible which was safe for him. Jacey’s band mates where already glaring at him like he was the devil so he didn’t want to piss them off anymore.

He saw that girl from the bathroom, Mina pass by glaring at him.

“You’re fucking freezing, Jace,” Peter said wiping off his best friends face.

“I’m hot,” Jacey whispered, his eyes were hooded, barely open. “Where’s Skag? Don’t lose him.”

Peter glanced at Skag. “He’s on the floor.”

“I want a beer.”

“No, you need water.”

“Don’t tell me what I fucking need!” Jacey yelled at him, and pushed him away in the process. He stood up, his legs wobbly. “Let’s get this shit done with.” He looked down at Skag and smirked, an actual smirk just for him and he sent him a wink to go along with that crooked smile.

Jacey walked onto that stage with all the confidence in the world, he might be fucked up in many ways, on many different drugs but he was pretty good at playing it off.

His band hesitantly watched him, playing their instruments and not sure which way or what Jacey would do next as he sang.

Skag sat in the corner with a secret smile on his face, Jacey’s voice was beautiful. Then again that was expected. Demons like attention, they liked the crowd, the cheers, and Jacey was giving Sin exactly what he wanted. Well he tried. He sang until, well…

Everything was going fine, in Skag’s opinion that was. He thought Jacey was fine, sober enough to be jumping around the way he was, hugging the mic and treating it as if it were a long lost lover.

He was fine until he wasn’t. Until things changed real fast.

Until he stopped, and stared straight across and over the crowd like he saw something, something that no one from this mind set could see.

He stopped and he gazed, his black eyes large and inviting yet scared, and then he was out.

Just like that.

He was on the ground, everything limp and over used. He had overdosed, just like Sin had wanted. But that wasn’t the end. Skag thought it was. He was terrified that it was. But it wasn’t.

The end was the beginning, the beginning was the end, it was an endless cycle for them, for Jacey, for Sin, for Havoc, and for whoever was invited along.

It was an ending that was just beginning.

“I’ve died a few times,” Jacey would tell him. “I’ve died and I always come back again. I always come back to this place where people think they know who I am. I come back to this place that is hell,”

“I come back to a place that is never ending. I want to live in Havoc. I want to be apart it, and for it to be apart of me. But every time I go there, I suddenly have to leave. Its not my time there, Sin tells me, it’s not my time to die,”

“There’s way too much things I have to do here, way too much destruction that I have to create. Way too many minds that need convincing. I need to tell people about Havoc. I need to tell them my story.”

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