Author: FluffVampyre PM
Three persons; three victims; three different stories about guys that desperately need an escape from life, and they choose death as that escape. Can they be saved? "Heroes are made when you make a choice." Based on the song by Superchick. YAOI/SLASH!Rated: Fiction T - English - Romance - Words: 2,155 - Reviews: 2 - Follows: 1 - Published: 05-07-09 - id: 2670296
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
(A/N: It's been A WHILE since I last put up something here, almost a year? Whatever, I wanted to do a story with this song ever since I first listened to it. The song Hero by Superchick talks about three different persons, without counting the Little Mikey-Dee mentioned on the last verse. So, I decided to make a chapter about each of the three different characters, so this story will have three chapters. I hope you enjoy and review!! WARNING: It's YAOI, that means boyxboy relationships, so if you don't like reading this, I suggest you LEAVE RIGHT AWAY. I won't tolerate any flames!
Disclaimer: I do not own the song Hero, Superchick does. :D)
No one sits with him, he doesn't fit in
"Look who's over there! It's Conrad, Mr. Holy Hater of Society!" I stare as the guys from always make fun of me yet again. Why can't they leave me alone? I don't hate society, society hates me. I run a hand through my hair, wondering what has gone wrong with my life. They keep laughing, pointing at me with those dreadful fingers of theirs. My daily fight with the tears that always try to escape from my eyes starts, and I wipe my face so I can hold them back.
But we feel like we do when we make fun of him
And then there's Aaron, looking at me from the bench at the opposite corner.
I've loved Aaron ever since I can remember. He's just the sweetest guy I've ever met… but he might think I'm disgusting. I mean, just look at me! My black hair reaches my shoulders and my tan skin doesn't really help to hide the light yellow spots I've caused on myself with pills—drugs. Of course, nobody knows they're because of drug overdoses; otherwise, they'd not only make fun of me. They'd probably beat me up and leave me to die in an alley. Besides, they're not really overdoses; they're more like "more-pills-than-I-should-take."
My father doesn't help in that aspect, either. He likes to take out his anger on me, and he's not the weakest father in the world, so you get what I mean. He cooperates to add purple and blue spots to my already slightly-lightened skin. Pills are the only way out of my pain, but the pain that comes after it is even bigger.
And I couldn't be more addicted to it.
Every time Aaron looks at me, I feel his eyes filled with disgust: disgust for the person that loves him, even if he doesn't know. When he looks at me, I can't help but to look down, ashamed of myself. I feel sick with only thinking what he must think about me.
"Aaron, c'mon, dude! Claire's giving the invitations for her party, and man! You sure don't wanna be absent, right? Dude, she's totally in love with ya, ya know that!" yells one of his friends, pulling him along. Aaron shoots me a last glance before allowing himself to be dragged out.
Stupid Claire. She's the only person I hate, except for the gang that always makes fun of me. She's not the right one for Aaron, and I should know that. The worst part is that he might feel the same way for her. I wipe my eyes again; I'm not letting my tears win today.
'Cause you want to belong, do you go along?
'Cause his pain is the price paid for you to belong
"Another F, Mr. Trevor," tells me the Spanish teacher, handing me the test I last did. I look at it, feeling ridiculous and humiliated. "Please study more next time or you'll fail the semester." Like I care about the freaking semester. It's not like I plan to complete it. I'm sure that my drugs overdoses are eventually gonna kill me someday, and I'd like that someday to be soon; hopefully before Claire's party tomorrow.
Dad hit me again yesterday. He said that if I failed another subject, he'd kick "the shit" out of me. And now I'll go home with my stupid, most recent failure. Maybe he'll contribute to my death, if I'm lucky enough. He'll beat me up so badly that I won't be able to move for a couple of hours, and then I'll go for my almost daily drug overdose, and then I'll die.
I'd wish it was as simple as that.
It's not like you hate him or want him to die
Too bad I didn't die last night. My dad did beat the shit out of me like he'd promised, but the pills weren't strong enough. I took too few of them, and they weren't enough to stop the beats of my heart. I should've been smart enough to take more, but oh no. I was as stupid as a donkey.
The worst thing is that I have to go to school today, and everybody will see how I look like: beaten, defeated, disgusting…
Aaron. Aaron will see me like this and he'll hate me. No, take him out of your mind. Allow him to have his happy ending with the freaking Claire bitch, even if you don't want to.
I receive another F, so I'm 100% sure my father will really, literally, kill me today. Aaron's been looking at me all day long, though. He must want me to die, to stop being such a shame to the world. I wipe my eyes like I'm so used to, taking away the water drops that almost made their way out of them.
The final bell has never brought me such happiness.
As much as I'd like to go home, I don't. Instead, I take another route, one through the park. Luckily, it's winter, so it gets dark a lot earlier. Maybe, if hell allows it (because I'm sure I'll go to hell after I die), the gang that makes fun of me will find me and beat me up like I believe my father would do.
There's nobody here yet. Oh, well, I'll start at once.
But maybe he goes home and thinks suicide
I sit down on a bench and take out the pills' plastic tube I decided to carry with me today. The tears run freely down my cheeks, and I do not plan to fight them this time. Let them get out before they can't anymore. Sobbing, I let a bunch of pills onto my hand. I bring the same hand closer to my mouth, about to start my suicide…
Or he comes back to school with a gun at his side
"Conrad! Conrad, is that you?" Dad? No, that's not my father's voice. It sounds younger, probably about my own age. "Conrad!"
"Conrad! I'm so glad I found you!" I hide the hand with the pills behind my back. Aaron stops in front of the bench, resting his hands on his knees, gasping for air. Poor of him, he must've ran all the way from school. But, why would he? He said he was glad to find me? Why?
"W- What are you doing here?" I'd so gladly tell him that I'm freaking happy he's here, but I can't. What would he think of me? "S- Shouldn't you be at Claire's party? I heard she wanted you to go."
"I… I was… worried a-… about you," he says between gasps. I bite my lip, waiting for him to say something else. Aaron finally stands straight and stops gasping. "Besides, she's not as important." Not as important? He could be with her right now but he's worried about me… My mind can't still grab a hold of that concept.
"Look, Conrad, I don't like her, okay? She's a slut, and I couldn't care less if she likes me or not. We're talking about you right now, so can we leave her aside?" he speaks so quickly that I can barely make out the words.
"When did I become the main subject?" I ask instead of answering his question, doing my best to keep my hand with the pills out of his sight.
"It's always been about you! Why do you think I'm always looking at you? Why do you think I don't make fun of you?" Oh, God… is he saying that he likes me? Or am I jumping to the wrong conclusion?
"Because you're a nice guy," I respond, looking away. My face heats up, and I really don't want him to see me blush.
"You think that's the reason?" I suddenly feel his breath very close to mine and so I look at him. He is in fact very close to me as his hands are resting at each side of me on the bench. His position takes me by surprise, and I accidentally move back, causing the pills from my hand and their tube to fall to the ground. Aaron hears the moment they get in contact with the ground, so he looks down. "What is this?" he questions me, taking the tube on his hand.
"Nothing," I say softly.
"Why do you have this?"
"N- No reason," I whisper, barely audible.
"Conrad," he speaks, kindly this time. "Do you take these pills to get high?" I look away again. "You can die from an overdose, do you know that?!" I bite my lip in an attempt to hold my tears back as I hear the shock on his voice. My silence gave me away to him. "You… you do know… and yet…"
"All right, yes! Yes, I do know I can die from an overdose, and yes! Yet I still take them because I'm waiting for an overdose to kill me! Are you happy now?!" My cheeks get wet with the water flowing from my eyes.
Any kindness from you might have saved his life
"Conrad…" He's going to tell me he hates me—he's going to say I'm disgusting and that he never wants to see me again. I sob and sniffle, wiping my eyes with the sleeve of my sweatshirt. "Why do you want to die?" His hands now hold my face, turning it so I'm staring at him.
"What's left for me here?" I wonder, mostly to myself. "I'm bad at school, my dad is an alcoholic that always beats me up, my mom left when I was a kid, and the person I love doesn't even know."
"How do you know he doesn't know?" My eyes widen with this statement and my tears cease briefly. D- Does he know I love him? Does he know I want him so badly? "He does know, Conrad. But you haven't given him the chance to prove it." Now both of us are on the bench since he just finished climbing up. With his hands still holding my face, he brings it closer to his…
And then he presses his lips to mine.
For God's sake, I swear he tastes much sweeter than I'd ever imagined. His petal-soft mouth moves lovingly over mine. Aaron loves me—he knows I want him and he wants me too! I swallow the moans forming deep at my throat, and he pulls my face even closer. We finally separate for oxygen, but our faces remain just an inch away from each other.
"We can work this out together," he tells me, his voice sounding broken. "We can fix anything, Conrad, I promise it, but…" As I just notice, he starts crying, his tears running freely down his skin. "Please don't leave, okay? I—I don't know what I would do if you ever left!" Both shocked and surprised, I grab his face and kiss his tears away.
"I'm so sorry," I whisper. "If I had known… I swear to God, Aaron! I would've never tried to…" He interrupts me by kissing my lips again.
"That doesn't matter," he says. "As long as I can have you with me, as long as you stay—the rest doesn't matter to me." He smiles kindly at me and I wipe the rest of his tears with my thumbs; then I capture his mouth with mine in another kiss.
Heroes are made when you make a choice