Title: Sometimes It's Like Cancer

Author: Lia (Unattainable Adrenaline)

Rating: R

Genre: Slash/Romance

A/N: Been catching a lot of shit about my other stories on and lj, so I decided to take a break from it. I don't own nor have any affiliation with Avenged Sevenfold (A7X), Marilyn Manson, In Flames, or South Park. This is probably going to be one of those average stories you read all the time, but hey, I liked writing it, even if the concept has been written before.


You've treated me like I'm a worthless piece of shit.
You think you're in control, but you make me sick.
I want to watch you suffer.
The way that you made me suffer.

I want to fuck up everything you've ever loved.

"The Thing I Hate" Stabbing Westward



Brandon paused on the way up the stairs and sighed. What the hell did she want now?

He trudged back down the steps slowly, smirking when he heard his mother give an exasperated sigh.

"Brandon! Get in here! I want you to meet someone!"

"God…" Brandon muttered and rolled his eyes as he was forced to walk into the living room. Seated on the cream-coloured couch was someone he didn't know.

"Brandon, I want you to meet Lorcan. He's going to be staying with us for a while. Do you remember your Aunt Clara? Lorcan is her fiancé's son. The two are looking for a house in New Hampshire and couldn't take him along…"

Brandon tuned the rest out as all teenagers tend to do and stared somewhat bored at the boy fidgeting on the couch.

He was an odd one alright.

He was wearing a tight black A7X t-shirt and dark denim jeans. His wrists were weighed down with at least twenty or so multi-coloured gummy bracelets, though his almost abnormally long hands were void of rings. A small black spider dotted the knuckle of his left pinkie, right where the dimple was. His ears were piercing city. Hole after hole after hole had either a silver hoop or stud and the first set had beginner gauges.

His face was somewhat average, maybe a bit girlier than most, although his eyes were coloured a burgundy red - contacts, of course. His left eyebrow was pierced twice and a hoop went through his full lower lip. His toxic green hair was cut short and spiked, the ends dyed black. When he turned his head, Brandon caught sight of five small solid black stars lining the curve of his ear.

After examining his subject, Brandon became quite bored.

That is, until he heard what his mother said next.

"… and since we don't have a guestroom anymore, he's going to have to sleep in your room." His mother smiled.

"Whoa, wait, back up! He's sleeping in MY room?" Brandon couldn't believe it. The freak staying here was one thing, him staying in his room was another!

"Well, honey, where else would you expect him to sleep?" His mother shot him a disapproving glance, one that said 'You're going to get grounded if you don't do what I want'. Brandon clenched his teeth together and stopped the retort before it came out of his mouth.

"Alright… Mother."

She put on a fake smile before looking back at Freak Boy and standing up.

"Well, Brandon, be a good boy and show him your room so he can get his things unpacked." She straightened her pantsuit and without further ado, strutted her lawyer self out of the room.

Brandon shot an evil look at her back, and giving Freak Boy a similar one, jerked his head towards the doorway in a signal to follow him.

He didn't wait for the kid to get his things before he got up and started for the stairs, and sure enough, he heard the other boy struggling to catch up with him. At the top of the stairs, he turned right and stopped at the last door.

He opened it to reveal his humble room.

There were barely any pictures on his walls, but the few that were were all drawings he had done over the years framed in simple plain, black posterboard. They were tapped to the wall with anything that would stick and were all different sizes, but most were black and white. Those that weren't were splashes of vibrant, bright colour in the form of buildings or blood pouring out of a wound.

His bed stood in the far right corner of the room, shrouded in shadow from his window. It was covered in a faded blue quilt that looked like he had used it to fingerpaint, something that infuriated his detail-conscious mother.

He waited until the boy came in behind him and motioned for him to shut the door.

"Put your stuff anywhere, I don't care." He said and flung himself down backwards on his mattress and shoved on his headphones.

'Urgh… what the fuck is this?' He thought and quickly switched cds and turned it to a random song. Ah… Marilyn Manson, much better…

His headphones were blaring and so couldn't hear anything until the end of the cd, some thirty minutes later. As the last guitar note ended, he opened his eyes and saw the boy standing in the corner by his bags, which were sitting in a cluster by his feet. How long was he staying anyway?

"Hey, kid, what are you doing?" Brandon said.

The boy jerked and looked up at him briefly before his eyes darted toward the door. Man, was he ever jumpy…

"N-nothi-ing." He stuttered quietly. He was standing there as if he were going to bolt at any given moment.

"Well, don't just stand there, you look like a fucking idiot. Unpack your shit or something." Freak Boy flinched as if he had gotten slapped and immediately started unzipping his bags, pulling out piece after piece after piece of black clothing.

For a second, Brandon almost felt bad for him, but as he put in another cd, he decided he didn't give a damn.


A couple of hours later, Brandon woke up to the sounds of In Flames blaring in his ears. Groaning, he pulled off his headphones and rubbed his eyes before opening them.

Oh, yeah, that's right…him…

He glanced at the clock. 7:30 pm. Damn, he had missed South Park.

The kid was sitting in the corner, apparently asleep. He had his knees shoved up to his chest and his head rested sideways on his folded arms.

Brandon lazily rolled off his bed and staggered to his feet as he made his way over to him, stumbling and tripping over various items before stopping just in front of him.

"Hey, are you awake?" He asked before he scoffed at his own question. Of course he's not awake, dip-shit. "Kid, wake up." Freak Boy still did not stir and Brandon repeated himself several times before it occurred to him that the boy couldn't hear him.

Rolling his eyes at his own ignorance, he crouched down until he was level with the boy's face. He reached out his hand and lightly shook his shoulder, repeating his earlier sentence. Freak Boy's face scrunched up and he made a soft whimper as he moved away.

"Hey, uh…" He searched his mind quickly before he remembered the kid's name. "… Lorcan, wake up." He shook him harder this time, and the boy's eyes flew open. He hurriedly moved away and stood up in a split second, leaving Brandon still crouched on the floor.

"Yo, are you okay?" Brandon asked as he stood up. The boy quickly nodded and moved farther away from him, coming to stand just in front of the window.

Brandon frowned but didn't say anything before his mother called up, "Dinner!"

Groaning and making a face, Brandon walked to the door before turning around, raising his eyebrows and grunting, "Well, you coming?"

Freak Boy seemed almost surprised to find that yes, indeed, Brandon was talking to him, and quickly followed behind his host as Brandon wasn't about to wait for him.


"Well, Lorcan, I hope you like roast beef," His mother said as they walked into the kitchen.

The kid looked really uncomfortable for a second as he said, "Actually, Mrs. Westward, I'm vegan." Brandon rolled his eyes again; what kind of weirdo didn't eat meat?

His mother's patented smile faltered and slipped for a second, but quickly resumed it's usual artificial brightness. "Well, Lorcan, as it is, I just bought a bunch of vegetables yesterday, perhaps I could whip something up for you real quick."

"I could help, I know a really easy recipe," Lorcan offered. Brandon couldn't believe how goody-goody he sounded.

"Why, thank you, Lorcan," His mother said, staring point blank at Brandon as if to say, 'Why can't you be like that?'. Brandon returned it with one of his own, 'No way in hell, EVER.'

Brandon left the kitchen to sounds of pots being brought out and a soft hesitant voice.


About twenty minutes later, his mother was calling again.

"Damn you, woman…" Brandon growled as he wrenched off his earphones that were this time playing Rammstein's "Amerika", one of his favourite songs. Damn her.

"I'm coming!" Brandon yelled in an overly bright cheerful voice, knowing it would grate on his mother's nerves.

He walked into the dining room to see his mother, father, and Freak Boy sitting down at the oh-so-elegantly set table, complete with sparkling china and crystal glasses. Brandon rolled his eyes and glared at everyone, plopping his ass down in whatever chair he felt like, which was the one opposite of Lorcan.

"Brandon, look at the wonderful dish Lorcan made. It looks positively delicious, don't you think?" His mother asked, playing the polite hostess to perfection. Brandon eyed the brown rice, tomatoes, mushrooms, celery, and whatever else there was in the blue porcelain bowl and shrugged.

"Yeah, sure. Absolutely mouth watering." Freak Boy's cheeks burned bright red in embarrassment as Brandon raised his eyebrow in a cruel manner, telling him that he thought the food was really a bowl of shit.

His mother frowned at Brandon's reaction, his father glaring from the other end of the table, but neither did anything about it. It was no use to try anymore, they both knew. Brandon knew he was acting like a jerk, and he loved it.

Without another word, his mother passed around a dinner dish, sending an "I'm sorry" look to Freak Boy when she thought Brandon wasn't looking, which, of course, he was. The meal went on in silence, not even Brandon saying anything as he attacked his food, he was suddenly ravenous. He shoved a forkful of meat and mashed potatoes with gravy into his mouth, looking over his glass to watch Freak Boy eat.

Only problem was, he wasn't.

Naturally, he did eat a small bit, but only a tiny spoonful of rice when Brandon's mother looked over at him. Most of the time, he just pushed the food around his plate, his eyes tracing the blue patterns on the edge of the plate over and over. He occasionally drank a sip of water, indeed it seemed that was the only thing he ate or drank, all while under Brandon's watch.

Brandon didn't deter his gaze even when Freak Boy looked up, his red eyes seemed to hold something that gave the other boy the chills. Brandon, of course, stared him down, but the look in Lorcan's eyes stayed with his mind. It was scary, kind of like the desperation and absolute abandon a person gets when they have no other alternative, when they're at the end of the line. Or a psycho on the brink of insanity. Brandon suddenly didn't know if he'd feel comfortable with the other boy sleeping in his bed next to him.

Freak Boy coughed and excused himself, politely nodding his head at Brandon's mum as he pushed in his chair and left the room, heading for the stairs. Brandon waited until he was out of the room before he too got up, despite the stares he got from his parents telling him to sit his ass back down, and followed behind him.

Sure enough, the other boy was heading towards the bathroom, and Brandon thought he was just pissing or something, before he heard a muted retching sound from behind the door. He froze despite himself, listening to Freak Boy puke out what little food he had eaten. He stood there outside the door long after Lorcan threw up anything but clear bile, listening to the rapid panting the other boy made in between heaves and the tap water running as he rinsed out his mouth. He heard a muffled "Damn" as Freak Boy remembered he didn't have a toothbrush unpacked yet and didn't have time to move as the door swung open.

"What the - "

Lorcan's face was surprised, then he realised Brandon had been standing there the whole time. He didn't say anything, his eyes impassive as he pushed past Brandon, who for once, didn't say anything, turning at the top of the steps and going back downstairs. He heard Lorcan say a quiet, shy "Hello" to his parents as if he had not just been vomiting his guts out.

Brandon suddenly thought he may have met someone he actually found a bit interesting.

To be continued...

A/N: Alrighty, told you it was going to be all stereotpical. Lol, but I don't care. I happened to like the way I wrote this, it's different from my usual detail-crazed writing. Hope you enjoyed, and if you did, I shall go on! (but don't forget to review and let me know ;)