My Goth/Punk Prince

Ooc|/| All of the content of this fanfiction belongs to me unless stated otherwise. If I see anyone saying this is theirs, or anyone with something similar, I will hurt them.

This fanfiction holds a male on male relashionship. There is adult language and situations that are not appropriate for those who are not mature. If there is anything else that I think you should be aware of, I will state it.

I like reviews, a lot, and constructive criticism. Flames will be ignored.

Enjoy! |/|

I’ve been thinking and thinking for days now. It seems like that’s all I ever do anymore. I can’t help it, not really. What gets me is that I just cannot figure it out. My life. One moment I think I know who I am and what I want and the next I’m lost. Sometimes I just get so frustrated. I’ve always been so sure before, so confident. But now…Where did I go wrong? Why am I no longer able to believe in myself? I’m so confused.

My life feels like a video game, like I’m living in a virtual reality. Only, I’m not strong enough, I’m not fast enough. I’m the puppet who does what I’m told to do. I have no control. I’m falling behind into darkness. The questions I have muddle my mind. It’s like walking through quicksand. You don’t. You just sink.

I guess I’m so screwed up because my parents are divorcing. Which means they’ll fight over who gets custody of me, their precious, perfect son. I’ll have to speak in court, I could end up moving…again. But I don’t want to move. Not after what I went through. They have no idea the turmoil they made me suffer. I’m still suffering.

Which brings me to the real reason for being so damn messed up. Something I’ve never told anyone. Maybe I’ve always known it, maybe I haven’t. All the same I’ve come to terms with myself and my choices. Of my sexuality. It still feels a little strange, a little foreign to the ears. But I know it’s true. When I think about it, really think about it, how can it not be? It just makes so much sense for it not to be true.

I think homosexuality is just one of those things people think will never happen to them. You’re neighbor, sure, but never, ever you. At first, I kept telling myself I really wasn’t looking at other guys. That I didn’t feel /that/ way. That I was just comparing. But the truth is, I was looking at them. And it’s hard. Hard to hide who you are and hard to be what you’re not. Somehow I manage to put on that cocky grin on my face and flow with the crowd. But it’s so very hard.

There’s someone I left behind a year ago when we moved from my home town. Someone I was really close to. My Goth/Punk Prince. My second and better half, not that we were brothers. No, just really good friends. Best friends. At least, we were. You could blame me for what happened but it really wasn’t my fault. It was my parents. They never liked him. Though he was corrupting their perfect little angel. We always caused so much trouble and grief for everyone, just to have fun, a little thrill. At school, especially. Though we were good students academically. Usually everything we did was my idea, and he just made it happen. Even when I explained that to my parents, they wouldn’t listen. They never listened.

We were attached at the hip. Inseparable. It was like this for many years. Preschool through high school. The good and the bad. Then the worse came. During the first weeks of summer my mom shipped me off to some camp for an ungodly amount of time. While I was gone they packed up the house and moved out of state. In the process they made it clear just how much they /disliked/ him. I had no idea what was going on or the grief I was due for.

When they picked me up, I didn’t know where we were driving. All I knew was that it was not in the direction of home. Only when we got there did they bother telling me that we had moved away. Far away. That I could never go back.

“Daddy got a new and better job.” My mom had said. What a load of bull. Never once did they speak of him. Never mentioning his name. Always changing the subject when I brought him up, which was often. I grew suspicious. My Goth/Punk Prince would not reply to my emails, would not talk to me on the phone, he even went as far as blocking me on all of his messengers. I didn’t get it. I was hurt more than I am able to express.

I only just found out what happened while I was eavesdropping on my parents late at night in the kitchen. They thought I was asleep in my bed, being their perfect son. But they were wrong. I was on the stairs. Listening to them. To all the mean and nasty things they had said to them and they were not laughing and joking so freely about. It made me sick. My stomach flipped and flopped, knotting tightly. No longer was I in need of a glass of water. I needed a toilet. I was going to be sick. Fast.

A whole year I’ve gone without knowing to truth. Of why my Goth/Punk Prince would not talk to me. Why he hated me so much. A whole year of my parents not talking about him, silently lying to me. A whole year of pain and hurt and confusion. This was and is a deep wound in my heart, a whole I fear I’ll never again fill. What can I do? What could I say to bring him back to me? To see his face, all covered in makeup. Who’s there now, making sure he doesn’t get into any serous damage? Who’s there watching his back and keeping him safe from everyone else and himself? Surely the other people he called friends are not. I never liked them. Still don’t. And then, I never like my circle of friends either. Just him. My Goth/Punk Prince.

Now I’ve decided to see him, personally, right before the trail. To go back to my home town and try and straighten things out. I need him. I really, really need him. I need to see his dark eyes look at me with that light they always hold just for me and me alone. I have no idea how things will go or how they will turn out, but it can’t hurt to try, I hope.

His parents own this big company. I mean at least I think it’s big. It’s like something Enterprise. Anyway, they then started this Day Spa/Gym/Club/Café/ All around hangout spot for teens, called Windchester’s. It’s huge. There’s gym equipment, lap and free swim pools(diving board and water slide included), basketball court, indoor skate park and rink, batting range, café, Spa, a giant room for dancing and clubbing and an arcade. Outside there’s golf and mini-gold, water boats, go-carts and an ice cream stand. We used to hang out here a lot too. Free access after all, who wouldn’t?

And this is where I am now, on the cold Saturday afternoon. I know he’ll be here, somewhere. The only thing I’m really worried about, except for his rejection, is that I’ll run into other people that I know. Let’s just say that the seven hour drive here made me emotionally unbalanced right now and I don’t think I could handle casually chit-chat. I’m nervous. I’m scared. I want my Goth/Punk Prince back.

“Jess? Oh my God! Jesse, what are you doing here!?” That shrill exclamation could only come from one person. How anyone manages to make their voice that high pitched is beyond me. I turned to see a young woman in pink /run/ over to me from across the parking lot. Jenn. She goes to my new school. What the hell is she doing here? Stalking?

“Don’t. Call. Me. That.” I ground out, my heart beating furiously. I don’t let anyone call me that. Only him. That was my name from him and him alone.

“What?” Jenn asked breathlessly.

“Nothing. Why are you here?”

“Me?” She asked as if it were the most obvious reason in the world. “ I love this place! Best Spa in the world. Why are you here?” Bitch.

“Seeing a friend. I used to live in this town.”

I tried not to glare as she made an ‘o’ with her over painted lips and widened her eyes. Who would drive seven hours just for a spa? Jenn obviously.

“Want to hang out later? Like have dinner or something?” She sounded excited as if she already knew my answer, that she knew I would accept. Yeah right.

“Already have plans.” I lied. These days lies just flowed off the tongue.

I’m happy to note to myself that Jenn looked shocked. To know that I broke down the her perfect world that revolved around her. It took all I had not to roll my eyes.

“Alright. Okay. Fine. Well, I have an appointment, like, now. See ya later.” She sounded a little unsure of herself, her voice even higher if that was possible. As she walked inside I couldn’t help but mumble ‘much’. Did I mention how much I dislike her? So naturally I waited a few more minutes before entering through the sliding doors. But as I waited, thoughts enveloped me. I could walk away now, I didn’t have to do this. I could turn around, go back to my car, and drive home. But then, I did have to. I didn’t know if I could go o with my life if I didn’t talk to him. He is that important to me. My Goth/Punk Prince. I went in. Let the familiar scenes flood my sight.

The lighting in here is bright, unlike some of the other areas. The dancing and clubbing room is usually pitch black with multicolored flashing lights. The walls were painted with graffiti in glow in the dark paint. You could even pay two dollars to get paint and write your name or small message however you wanted. I walked forward to join the lines that were forming in front of the various pay booths. You paid for (a) card(s) to gain access for whatever activity(s) you came for.

My heart was beating rapidly, echoing in my ears. My stomach’s a bundle of nerves and knots. I did not have to wait long before it was my turn. A young girl called out ‘next’ and I walked to her. There was something about her. She could not have been more than sixteen. Maybe it was the color of her hair or the shape of her face. I just felt that she was somehow familiar.

“Jesse? Jesse Black?” My stomach took on another hundred knots.


Ooc|| What did you think? Review! I\'m typing more and I\'ll try and post it soon. >< ||