get ready to jump

it's better than a sex scene.

vanchizzle@yahoo.com — Fri, 20 Apr 2007 22:06:44 GMT

title: untitled for now. chapter two.
author: vanchi, the author formerly known as .bennizzle.jizzle.
warnings: there will be slash, soon.
status: chaptered, unfinished.
note: this chapter brought to you by the three essays i have due next week.
disclaimer: to my knowledge, none of the events you are about to read occured to the characters mentioned in real life.
description: Chester's starting to wonder what the hell is really going on with this band.

chapter one.

He began waking up in Rob’s bed more and more often, sometimes waking before his roommate and contemplating. Was he serious? Well, duh. No one jokingly claims to be gay and then offers you breakfast. But why couldn’t he tell? Chester usually knew these things but Rob… Rob was a mystery.

When the topic of homosexuality came up in conversation with the guys, Chester could detect no noticeable changes in demeanor. It seemed that the entire band was completely comfortable with the subject, which Chester had thought impossible before meeting these guys. Maybe they were all gay? The idea was laughable, even Chester had to admit. Joe’s girl obsession was practically contagious. Chester even caught Rob checking out a few of the girls Joe mentioned, which was slightly odd, but knowing the quiet man as he did, it was easy to get used to. Overall, life in California was easy to sink into for Chester. It was more exciting than life in Arizona, and he had hardly any thoughts of his whore of a wife. And he was having no trouble with the sleepwalking problems he’d been having before.

Yea, things didn’t start getting weird enough for Chester to notice until Joe asked the question. They had been “practicing” [which at that point had really been more sitting around and toying with idiotic song ideas than anything else] when Joe glanced up and let out a rather unexpected laugh, which drew the attention of everyone in the room. The laughter itself was no shock; Joe did that a lot, but the collective boredom of each band member drew the attention to whatever distractions possible.

“Are those hickies?!”

And every eye in the room turned to the red marks littering Rob’s neck.

Rob gave a crooked smile and blushed just a little, then continued jotting things down in his notebook.

“Who?” Joe pressed.

Rob looked up but didn’t answer.

“You didn’t tell me you had someone. Share! I tell you about all of my conquests.” He pouted.

“Against my will.” Rob rolled his eyes at Joe’s weak plea.

“Details, details,” Joe brushed the comment away. “Why won’t you say?”

Rob shook his head, which made everyone even more curious.

“Come on Rob, why the secrecy?” Mike joined in.

“Yea, Rob, who is he?” Brad added.

Rob looked at Chester briefly then back at Mike. “Secrecy, eh? What’s new in your life, Shinoda?”

Mike blushed and looked down at his lap. “Anna proposed.”

“…Who?” Chester couldn’t stop himself from asking. He really had no idea who Anna was.

“My girlfriend.” Mike furrowed his brows at Chester.

“…How long have you been together?”

“About a year.”

The look on Chester’s face was purely comical. He’d been in the band for about 3 months, and never had an ‘Anna’ come up in conversation. “Oh, yeah… her,” he said, not even trying to mask his confusion. He looked to Rob questioningly but it seemed Rob was too busy looking at his notebook, at the wall, at the floor, at his pen, out the window, at his hands, and his eyes were basically anywhere but on Chester, or even Chester’s general direction. And that was intriguing.

“What did you say?” Brad questioned, only mildly surprised.

“I said yes.”

Now everyone’s attention was on Mike, Rob’s secret love life forgotten for the time being.

“What?!” Joe, Brad and Dave all sputtered at once.

“Why?” Dave asked, the first to gather his wits about him.

“Why… not?” Mike was horrified by their unexpected response.

“Why not?!” Joe repeated incredulously. “You can’t be serious.”

“Uh, maybe because you don’t love her,” Brad said slowly.

“What? Of course I love Anna. What makes you think I don’t?!”

“You never talk about her,” Brad started.

“Today was your first time mentioning her to someone you’ve spoken to every day for the past 3 months,” Joe jumped in.

“You never get that look in your eye in the off-chance that she actually does come up in conversation,” Rob added.

“What look?” Mike questioned, shocked and appalled by this seemingly sudden suspicion.

Everyone else in the room, besides Chester, seemed to run out of words in frustration. After a pause, Brad’s face went blank and he turned to Rob. “Say Rob, how’s Lynne?”

Rob didn’t miss a beat. “Oh she’s fine, still single. She says she’ll probably be coming down this weekend or next. They’re really giving her a lot of work up there, it’s ridiculous how much reading they want her to do each night. I almost never get to talk to her…”

Chester was not confused about this. He’d heard Lynne brought up in conversations every so often, although he had no idea exactly who she was. But he figured he’d find out eventually.

“Still waking up and ridiculous hours of the day to go running?” Brad asked

Rob chuckled. “Yea, crazy as it may be…”

“THAT LOOK! That look right there!” Joe shouted, pointing at Mike’s wistful expression.

“Oh, come off it. I’m not in love with Lynne.” As if anyone would fall for that.

Every man in the room rolled his eyes at that comment, including Chester, who had always known what that look meant. After that, conversation went back to the subject of music, and things continued as usual.

It wasn’t until much later that night that Chester finally decided to ask Rob about his love life. He racked his brain for about an hour, trying to find a tactful way to bring it up, but was unsuccessful because eventually Rob just asked him, “What are you thinking about so hard?”

And his mouth moved before his mind when he blurted, “Why didn’t you tell me you have a boyfriend?” And there went any chances of not sounding like some desperate chick, all in that sentence.

Rob’s eyes widened, but he said nothing for a bit. He waited just long enough for Chester to start feeling even more self-conscious. “…I don’t.”

Chester was confused. “Then where…” Duh, Chester. You don’t need a boyfriend to have hickies. “Oh. Ok.” He wasn’t really planning on taking this conversation further, but Rob seemed to be studying him, waiting for more of a response. Chester didn’t really know what to say, so he asked, “Who gave them to you then?”

Rob blinked. “Why does it matter?”

It didn’t, Not really, anyway. It’s not like they were in a relationship. Chester had no right to know what Rob did in his private time. Chester shrugged and went to take a shower instead. But even as he ran his hands through his soapy hair, he wondered why the hell Rob was so secretive about the whole matter.

The next day, it seemed like the bite marks on Rob’s neck were darker and greater in quantity. Chester pretended not to notice.

Chester cut himself. He was in the kitchen slicing up onions for the only good thing that came out of his marriage; the secret recipe for this stew. Rob was in his room on the phone, but practically teleported into the kitchen when Chester hissed a painful “Shit!” through his teeth.

“Ches are you alright?” His eyes widened when he saw how deep the cut was. “Shit,” he repeated and grabbed Chester by the wrists and all but dragged him into the bathroom. “Babe, I’ve gotta call you back later… Ya, love you too. Bye,” is all he said into the phone before hanging it up and turning his attention to the medicine cabinet.

Chester was fighting tears, not because the wound was so bad, but because fuck, onion juice stung like a motherfucker. And as Rob held Chester’s wounded hand under the faucet’s spray of cool water, Chester began to feel bad. “Uhn…” And wow, he had not opened his mouth to half moan into Rob’s ear, which, wow, when did it get that close? “You, ah, didn’t have to do that. I could’ve handled it.”

“I know that.” He put some anti-bacterial something on the cut and began to dress it.

Chester didn’t mind being babied by Rob, but he had a feeling he should mind. So he narrowed his eyes just a bit and said smartly, “Didn’t want to interrupt your important phone call.”

Rob didn’t flinch or even really respond at first. He finished with his task and then looked Chester in the eyes, not letting go of his hands. “Don’t be an asshole, Chester. It really doesn’t suit you.” And he left the room.

Chester got drunk that night, needless to say. He was having one too many thoughts of Rob and Rob’s kindness and Rob’s non-boyfriend who he clearly loved. Sometimes he got the feeling Rob was flirting with him, but he could never quite tell. And that’s what all guys think when they spend a lot of time around a gay guy. …Right? Chester wasn’t a paranoid person by nature, but once a thought settled itself into his mind, evidence started to build up, however flimsy or concrete that evidence might be. Then the thought grew and ate at his other thoughts and it just became a really ugly thing. Ok, so maybe he was a little paranoid. Alcohol tended to calm the process or at least make it a little more bearable. But not tonight, and that was pissing him the fuck off.

Rob joined him sometime in the middle of his second bottle of tequila. He was quite inebriated by then, and a small voice told him he should have gotten drunk at Mike’s place or something. Then he had the ingenious idea to pretend to be asleep.

Rob settled close to him on the couch and ran a hand through his hair. “Why do you do this, Chester?”

That loaded question brought back a whole lot of memories that he took painstaking efforts to suppress and his poorly executed plot to feign sleep fell apart as he began to cry. He didn’t look at Rob, didn’t want to see his facial expression. He just allowed himself to be carried into the other room and set down on the bed, tears still sliding down his face. And as he curled into Rob’s welcoming embrace, a voice told him that he shouldn’t be there. That he didn’t deserve to lie here, in these arms, in this bed. That Rob’s non-boyfriend should be here, not him.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Rob’s voice rumbled in his chest, where Chester’s face was pressed.

He shook his head and tried to calm himself down by taking deep breaths. Slowly the hiccupping stopped and the tears dried up and his breathing evened out.

“Oh Chester…” Rob sighed quietly, voice laced with affection that Chester was not too drunk to hear.

it's not right.

vanchizzle@yahoo.com — Thu, 19 Apr 2007 00:23:28 GMT

Went on hiatus but the fact that no one would miss me or even notice was more distracting than lj/lpf/msn were in the first place.

Cal is killing me right now. I want to disappear. But no one would care.

I have a new msn screenname. If you want me to add you, ask.

I'm probably deleting this thing soon. [translation: i'm probably deleting all of you soon and adding a few of you elsewhere]

day of silence is upon us!

vanchizzle@yahoo.com — Sun, 15 Apr 2007 22:36:26 GMT

-- Day of Silence --

Wednesday, April 18, 2007 is National Day of Silence. This is a day on which those people who support creating safe schools for Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual and Transgender people take a nine-hour vow of silence to recognize and protest the harassment, prejudice and discrimination - in effect, the silencing - that Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, and Transgender people face. Instead of speaking, high school and university participants hand out cards or wear stickers or t-shirts printed with the following message:

"Please understand my reasons for not speaking today. I am participating in the Day of Silence Project, a national youth movement protesting the silence faced by lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender people, and their allies. 91.5% of LGBT students in America frequently witness and/or receive harassment for being who they are. 82.9% report that staff or faculty members present silently pretend not to notice. My deliberate silence echoes that silence, which is caused by harassment, prejudice and discrimination. I believe that ending the silence is the first step towards fighting these injustices. Think about the voices you are not hearing today. What are you going to do to end the silence?"

Thousands of students across the states will unite on this day in a visible silence to create real change in local schools. Are you in?

but love is gonna save us

vanchizzle@yahoo.com — Tue, 10 Apr 2007 23:18:27 GMT

I don’t like how I feel about you

Feeling wrong no matter what I do
Feeling hurt and bitter for what you don’t…

Feeling naked and vulnerable and transparent and oh so rapeable…
Stupid.

Everything I say is stupid
Everything I feel, no matter how real…

Needy, hungry, wanting more
But unable to ask, choking on the request, knowing I won’t receive.
Biting back the words,
Don’t want to seem even needier.
Don’t want to expose myself even more…

So vulnerable

It’s lonely lying like this
Pretending

But dangerous to open up
Waiting… waiting… waiting.

You want me to be open, to be confident
You’ll hurt me… you’ll kill me

It’s terrifying
Don’t hurt me, I can’t take it

Do you know what you’re asking of me?
Do you even care what you do to me?

Unable to communicate it to you, unable to say
Afraid to scare you away
Obsession, possession

Everything I am, Everything I know
Lying, crying, dying

Do you see through me?
Do you care to?

Not entirely
No, not possible
I’m not like that
Transparent, see-through, knowable

But you want me to be
Why? Why? Why?
You don’t answer
Why not, you ask.

BECAUSE!!
I want to be everything you want me to be, but I don’t want you to be disappointed.
I’m afraid of losing too much of me…
I’m afraid of finding me.
I’m afraid, still, of being left.
…don’t hurt me, please.

You told me not to worry and I said okay.
But fuck, I can’t control this hurt
These tears
These fears.
Don’t hurt me.

Go away
But, for god’s sake, don’t leave me

Don’t want to be naked and bare
But it’s too late
I’m proud
But so ashamed
Filthy, disgusting, needy.

I need you
Never leave me
But you won’t be here forever
Won’t commit… won’t stay
Why are you doing this to me?
Please just let me be

But I need more, addicted.
I need you
Love me forever

…you don’t need me, do you?

vanchizzle@yahoo.com — Fri, 06 Apr 2007 05:52:28 GMT

25 Essential rules of slash

1. Everyone is gay. The ones that say they aren't are in denial.
2. You don't need to make eye contact to know that you're in love.
3. It never stops at a kiss.
4. In the heat of passion, clothing is always rippable.
5. Everyone has a very artistic inner monologue which rambles for awhile before anything ever happens to them.
6. No matter how sexy your partner is, if it hurts when he bites you, you're being raped.
7. Rape will make you flinchy, jumpy, and a million times more vulnerable than you already were. Chances are, though, you were pretty vulnerable to begin with.
8. After being raped, someone will always be there to make you feel better. If they don't, you should probably kill yourself.
9. Having your hair stroked will always make you feel better.
10. Prostitutes are always more than they seem.
11. Nobody in slash is mentally stable. That includes you. Maybe you should kill yourself.
12. There's always room for makeup sex. And oh, is it delicious.
13. Popular boys secretly want geeks.
14. Threesomes are never awkward the morning after.
15. Monogamy is nonexistant. If it can and does exist, something or someone is going to get in the way. Gruesomely. You might want to kill yourself before it happens.
16. Brothers and cousins make excellent partners/lovers/fuckbuddies.
17. There is an angsty song for everything.
18. Everyone has been a hooker, or acted like one, in another life.
19. The paler you are, the more likely you are to get raped.
20. Lube and condoms materialize out of nowhere.
21. If lube doesn't show up, there is always something liquid and non-acidic available.
22. The best way to show someone that you're mad at them is to rape them.
23. A virgin's first time is always romantic, non-awkward and magical.
24. If it isn't any of the above, it was definitely rape.
25. Consider killing yourself.

oh man they're all so true..

whore

vanchizzle@yahoo.com — Thu, 05 Apr 2007 08:12:32 GMT

title: whore
author: .bennizzle.jizzle.
status: chaptered, unfinished
note: i promise a new chapter of something before finals. i'm tired. i was motivated to do this by joobie mcboobie's reposting of me faves. t'is all about you and swiss cheese, darling. you know this.
description: Mike calls Chester a whore. And Rob's starting to think that maybe he's right.

whore
Pronunciation: 'hor, 'hur
Function: noun
Etymology: Middle English hore, from Old English hOre; akin to Old Norse hOra whore, hOrr adulterer, Latin carus dear -- more at CHARITY
1 : a woman who engages in sexual acts for money : PROSTITUTE; also : a promiscuous or immoral woman

Mike calls Chester a whore. A slut, a harlot, a prostitute, a hussy. Anything demeaning he can think of.

He thinks he’s fooling everyone by saying he’s easy, cheap, a streetwalker, a lady of the night.

It’s no secret that Chester has sex with several people each week, often complete strangers or at least nearly so. That’s just a part of Chester, and the rest of the band has either gotten used to it or decided to say nothing.

But Mike, ever the uptight one, always has a problem with it. Actually, no one would even be surprised if Mike hated gays. Mike practically throws a tantrum every time Chester appears or wanders off with someone new.

Rob can’t figure out why Chester’s behaviour is so inherently bad. He likes to spend time with a lot of different people. So what? Rob is attracted to several people at any given moment as well, and would give anything to have the courage Chester does, in just pursuing his interests no matter who’s watching. Well, he’d also give anything to have Chester, but that’s another story.

Rob doesn’t have the openness and in-your-faceness Chester possesses. Rob is much more quiet and private as far as his sexual adventures go. He’s actually more private about most things, which is probably why no one in the band knows that he’s been in love with the singer for at least 3 years now.

*

To set the scene, it’s one of those rare nights when Chester’s not off fucking some random girl or guy, and is completely shit-faced. Rob rubs his back while he vomits into the toilet of the cramped restroom stall of the bar, trying to hold back his own giggling. Then, when Chester is safely placed in his bunk with a bucket nearby just in case, Chester calls out to Rob in a very slurred voice. It’s along the lines of ‘you love me, don’t you?’ and Rob sobers up rather quickly.

Chester has already passed out by the time Rob finds it in himself to whisper a ‘yes.’ And it’s that moment when he decides that he’s going to make a move.

He doesn’t expect monogamy or commitment from Chester, or even really want those things. He just wants the companionship, to be closer to him, and, you know, some mind-blowing sex wouldn’t hurt.

When Rob has gathered enough courage to tell Chester these things, Chester bites his lip and frowns. Tells him he doesn’t fuck band mates… that he can’t fuck band mates.

“But you can fuck everyone else?” It’s asked calmly and evenly.

Chester shakes his head regretfully. “It’s complicated,” he says in a very final tone.

*

A few weeks later, Rob is trying different keys from his key ring, because he can’t remember exactly which one opens the door to Chester’s home. He knows he has to move quickly, otherwise he will set the alarm off, but he’s not in a hurry. Chester wasn’t in a hurry to give him back his goddamn movies, and couldn’t even be bothered to be there when Rob comes to pick them up. After being blown off for a week and a half, Rob told Chester he was just going to come by Tuesday and pick them up. Chester told Rob he had previous engagements, and said he could just use his own spare key to get in. It’s Tuesday, and Rob finds the right key on the fifth try.

Upon opening the door and typing in the security code so that the alarm doesn’t go off, Rob wanders into the living room, where the entertainment center is located. Chester has an entertainment center. Rob has a big screen and a DVD player. That annoys Rob, although he knows he could easily fix that. He looks around and finds no stack of DVDs off to the side that could be his. As in, he now has to search for every single movie, because Chester doesn’t have enough fucking manners to set them aside for a ‘friend.’

Chester is behaving less and less friendly towards Rob, and it’s annoying as shit. They weren’t necessarily best friends in the first place, but this is fucking ridiculous. Rob is just plain annoyed right now and thinks that perhaps he should forget his movies and just leave before he destroys something in anger. And he’s turning away from the DVD cabinet when he hears the front door opening and shutting. Oh, good. A well-deserved confrontation.

He hears shuffling and the sound of a body hitting a wall. Rob steps out into the hall to see what’s going on and finds Chester is indeed home and has someone pinned against the wall. Still annoyed but not really wanting to have a fall-out anymore, he walks until he is past them and opens the door to leave.

“Shit,” he hears a familiar voice hiss and turns to see. Yes, it is indeed Mike that is slammed against the wall, both hands held in one of Chester’s above his head. Face flushed and lips wet.

Chester slowly lets go of Mike’s hands and steps away to face Rob. “Didn’t find your DVDs?” He looks at Rob’s empty hands.

“Fuck the fucking DVDs.” Rob’s halfway down the drive and to his car when Chester grabs his wrist and turns him around in a surprising show of strength.

“Don’t be angry.”

“Don’t be angry? Fuck you, Chester. You’ve completely blown me off for the past few weeks, speaking to me only when entirely necessary, avoided me at every chance, and lied to me. Why the hell shouldn’t I be mad?” Rob’s yelling, and people are starting to look.

Chester lets go of Rob’s wrist. “The situation with Mike is… complicated.”

“Yea, real complicated the way you fuck him, but not anyone else in the band. Because you only want him but he won’t tell you what he wants, right? So you distract yourself with fucking everyone else on the face of his earth, but avoiding the rest of the band because he gets upset?”

Chester’s wide eyes avoid Rob’s. “Uh… yea.”

Rob can’t tell whether Chester’s embarrassed or just plain lying, but he’s past trying right now. He gets in his car and drives off, mad as hell.

*

Chevelle is blaring in his sound cancelling headphones and his eyes are trained on the words as they dance across the page and out of the book. They swirl around him in the back room of the bus, swimming in and out of his brain, building fantastical images and stories and songs and it’s so much better than reality. But who gives a fuck about reality? He’s stoned out of his mind and he doesn’t have to deal with lies and bullshit right now.

That is, until he sees Chester walk into the room, closing and locking the door behind him. The expression on his face pretty much destroys Rob’s high. He takes off Rob’s headphones and sits next him on the couch. “Rob.”

“Chester.” He stares at the wall, blankly.

“Stop avoiding me.”

“Stop being an asshole.”

Chester frowns. “Why are you acting this way?”

“Where’s Mike?”

Chester sighs. “At an interview with Brad. They’ll be gone for a few hours at least…”

Rob looks at him. “So?”

“So I thought we could talk?”

“About what?” he’s rolling his eyes.

“About why you won’t talk to me.”

Rob laughs loudly.

Chester frowns more.

“Oh come on. You can’t appreciate the irony of your trying to talk to me about why I don’t talk to you?”

Chester shakes his head and waits. “Why?”

“Because you’re a liar, Chester. Because you started avoiding me first and because I know your boyfriend would prefer I stay away from you.” Chester opens his mouth to deny it, but Rob cuts him off. “You’re only talking to me now that he’s gone and will be gone for a while.”

“It’s…”

“Complicated, right.”

Chester takes a shaky breath.

Rob is not going to fall for this shit. “Look, Chester. I’m sorry if you feel ignored or what the fuck ever, but I have other shit to worry about. So take your tears to your boyfriend and I’m sure he’ll kiss them away.” Rob glares at the man next to him. “And as far as my not talking to you goes, we were never that great of friends in the first place. You’ve got plenty of other people to feed you the attention you want, as long as it doesn’t get too personal. Why can’t you just be happy with that?” And Rob’s already moving towards the door, imagining all the places he could be right now that aren’t here, when Chester blocks him from opening it.

Rob takes a menacing step towards Chester, but Chester is not intimidated. Chester kisses Rob, softly and sweetly, unlike any other kiss he’s seen Chester involved in. And he’s still in something of a trance when Chester presses their foreheads together and whispers softly, “What if I want it to get personal… for once?”

“Things with Mike not personal enough for you?” Rob whispers back bitterly, fighting the emotions trying to wash over him.

“Not nearly personal enough.” And he gently touches his lips to Rob’s again.

*

how do you like them apples?

vanchizzle@yahoo.com — Thu, 22 Mar 2007 01:48:09 GMT

Title Apples
Rating: PG-13
Description: Mike's a dick, and in retrospect maybe Chester should have aimed higher.
notes: i thought of/wrote this in less than an hour, which literally never happens to me. i would like to thank alex for being a rabid shinoda haterz. thanks also go to: bobo for being amaaazingly gangster and sending amazing things and just in general being amazing, professor reighford for giving me a 3-4 page paper due tomorrow which is what i should have been doing instead of writing this, pam for being a big loser that i will stab in the thigh someday soon, chad from my rhetoric class for being a dumb fuck everytime you fucking talk, and big ups to mike shinoda for being a smug lying bastard. :D i doubt it will be continued, but you never know with me.

He hadn't meant to do it at all.

No, seriously.

He'd just been wanting to skin the apple he had just pulled out of the fridge. It had been the last of the apples and Chester was happy that he had been the one to find it.

So he went on a hunt for a knife. But he could not find one. This was problematic, as Chester tended to be rather obsessive compulsive about his food. He ate each part of the meal separately, and no, the food could not touch. He never, ever, ate the ends of a loaf of bread. His fruits and vegetables could not be the least bit bruised, and he absolutely did not eat something that someone else had already bitten into. And his apples had to be skinned and sliced into 20 pieces.

Thus, you can imagine why Chester was aghast at opening 3 drawers in the kitchen and finding not a single knife. Humming to keep himself from getting frantic, he kept searching until Mike wandered into the room. This was all fine and well, but inside Chester was panicking. He wanted that goddamned apple before Joe's fat ass walked in and took it. Or Brad came in and took a huge bite out of it, just to spite him.

"Chester, you need to be taking this more seriously."

Chester mumbled something that was probably along the lines of, "I am; chill out," and closed another empty drawer.

"Look, I really hope that... what happened... between us isn't causing problems with you."

Chester's jaw clenched involuntarily and lightning flashed through his mind. Shut up, Mike.

"Because, I've noticed you've been acting, well... crazy since that night." The smug bastard sat down in one of the chairs at the table. The table that the apple was currently sitting atop.

Chester has a lot of self-control. As a matter of fact, over the past year or so, people have begun to doubt whether or not he even has emotions. Yep, he's great at concealing many things. And you know what? Maybe he was just a little obsessive compulsive about things other than his food. But was that any of Mike’s business? No. And that was why Chester kept looking for the knife, hoping Mike would lose interest.

“I mean, I had known you liked me, but Jesus…”

Or, maybe just shut up.

“I hadn't known a simple fuck would turn you into some sort of retard.”

…Or roll over and die.

“But seriously, thanks for keeping it to yourself. Rob’s really stressed out and he really doesn’t need this right now.”

Oh that’s proper – pull the ‘don’t tell my boyfriend I fucked around on him because his grandmother just died’ card. Chester opened his mouth to say something but instead gasped with delight when the glint of a blade flashed at him from the inside of the last of the drawers. He grinned widely and was absolutely not going to do anything with it other than tend to his apple, but when a warm hand clapped down on his shoulder his resolve faded just a little.

He didn’t hear all of what Mike said next, but he did catch the gist of it. “…great guy… wasn’t with Rob… considered dating you.”

It certainly wasn’t planned, or well-thought out, but as Mike’s eyes changed from smug and superior to shocked and afraid and hurt, Chester didn’t regret it. He sort of wished he had planned it out better when Mike slammed into the kitchen table, sending it and its contents [including the now bruised apple] crashing to the floor. But, in general, Chester felt rather good about his choices. No apple on the face of this earth could have been quite that satisfying.

And when the other guys walked in, most probably in response to Mike’s pathetic noises of pain, Chester felt that whatever went down, it had been totally worth it.

Joe laughed. Brad began to laugh as well. Dave high-fived him. Rob, who was bound to give the most dramatic reaction, strode across the room until he was face to face with Chester. Or, you know, as close as they could get due to height differences. And kissed him.

And as much as Chester had broken the habit of reading too much into displays of affection, thanks to Mike’s invaluable teachings, he knew this was a kiss of gratitude. And if this was how he would be thanked every time he followed his instincts, he decided he should stab Mike in the thigh much more often.

there's no angels here

vanchizzle@yahoo.com — Tue, 20 Mar 2007 17:42:32 GMT

Title: Valley Christian High School. Chapter Five.
Author: .bennizzle.jizzle.
Pairing: Chester/Rob
Rating: R
Genre: Love and Romance, Drama, Angst
Status: Chaptered, unfinished.
Warnings: Slash.
Disclaimer: None of the following events occurred in actuality, as far as I know.
Note: lol I started this story 3 years ago. and lmfao, my original characters are oh so original. t'is short but in relation to the next chapter that's fine.
Description: Ear piercing. Lip piercing. Eyebrow piercing. Wild hair. Wild (and not to mention tight) clothes. Bright colors, particularly the rainbows. He didn’t belong. But that didn’t stop him from getting what he wanted; nothing did.

[One.] [Two.] [Three.] [Four.]

The glasses shattered and the plate chipped. Cookie crumbs went everywhere and milk spread across the floor. Chester was visibly trying not to laugh as my mother pretended not to notice the mess she’d made. “And you are?” she demanded sourly.

“Chester. And I’m guessing you’re Grandma Bourdon?” He responded with a bored smirk.

“I’m Robert’s mother. The one who protects him from poor-” she eyed his clothing, “-influences and keeps him involved in good, Christian activities with good, Christian kids.”

Protects me? I nearly laughed aloud then.

“Oh, good. Wouldn’t want poor impressionable Robbie involved with any outside influences, considering that he still doesn’t know how to think and feel for himself. He’s only four years old, after all.”

Mother pressed her lips together tightly. “Say what you will, but I care for my son. I show him the love and attention that he needs. When mothers don’t do that for their children, unspeakable things can happen.” She regarded him coldly.

Chester eyed her back. “Unspeakable, indeed.”

She turned to me with fire in her eyes. “Robert, dear. I think it’s time for your guest to leave.”

I sighed. “But Mother, we haven’t even had a chance to work on our project yet.”

“No excuses, Robert. You have chores to tend to. And you’re going to find a new partner for this project on Monday morning.”

“I can’t find a new partner. The teacher picked our groups.”

“Well you will simply explain to him that there has been a mistake.” She had now resorted to pretending Chester wasn’t there at all. “And be sure to wash that blanket once you’ve cleaned up this mess.” She gestured to the mess on the floor and walked down the hall and into her room.

A headache was worming its way into my consciousness. I looked at Chester, who was now walking towards me, backpack in one hand, a slip of paper in the other. He handed me the paper and bent down to grab a chunk of oatmeal cookie from the floor. He smiled at me and bit into it as he made his way to the front door.

“Call me later, Robbie!” he said, loud enough for my mother to hear. And he was gone.

I said nothing.

‘Chester.
(562) 355-8337’
was all the paper said. I shoved it into my pocket and began to carefully put the large pieces of broken glass and cookie back on the tray.

On my way to the trash bin outside, my mother called to me. “Robert, may I speak to you for a second?”

I stepped into the room quietly and calmly.

“I think you should know better than to allow people like that in this house. I thought I’d raised you better than to associate with sinners such as him. Maybe it’s my fault. Maybe I should have cleared the Devil out of our lives long ago. May-”

I cut her off there. “Mom.” I sighed, knowing it was best not to tell her what was on my mind. I was twitching with the effort to swallow my anger. “You can’t refer to your own flesh and blood that you raised as the Devil. It’s cruel and belittling. Whatever disagreements you’ve had or mistakes you’ve made, Annette is still your daughter. And she still means well.”

“Don’t change the subject Robert.” She’s the one that changed the subject! “Why would you disrespect and belittle me by inviting that… boy into our home?”

Get a grip! “Chester’s my partner on this project. What was I supposed to do? Ruiz is the one who put us together on this, and you’re the one who always taught me to make the best out of every situation.” That was stretching it a bit.

“Some situations have no upside. So who do I need to call to get this Ruiz fellow fired?”

My eyes narrowed involuntarily. “You’re being rash, Mother. Sleep on it and we’ll talk in the morning.” It was less of a suggestion and more of a statement. I shut the door and continued down to the trash bin.

+~+

I pressed the tan button and waited, hearing the chimes ringing within the house. After about thirty seconds, the door opened and I was greeted with a warm smile. “Hey. I thought you were working on the project with Chester?” he questioned, opening the door and letting me in.

“Things didn’t go as planned,” I mumbled, following him to his living room.

Donna twisted around in her seat to smile at me as I crossed the room and sat down. “Hey, what happened to your other plans?”

I sighed. “My mother interrupted-”

“Robert! I had no idea you were coming to visit today. What a blessing it is to see you, sweetheart. My, you’re growing more and more handsome by the day. It must be a terrible burden having as many girls as you must have chasing you.”

I faked a smile to the best of my ability. “Good afternoon, Mrs. Shinoda. And no, the girls are manageable.”

“Always the modest one,” Mike’s mother patted my shoulder and then headed down the hallway, towards the kitchen. “Milk and cookies?” she called back.

+~+

My eyes drifted off the page and towards the door of the café. A group of kids that looked to be about my age wandered in, loudly joking and laughing.

“I hate you guys. You’re all going to Hell.” One of them was saying. She was wearing a plain black t-shirt that read “kiss my asthma” in white letters, some baggy blue jeans, a pair of worn black Chucks with rainbow shoelaces, and a rainbow bandana in her hair.

“I love you too, Cami!” A taller girl squealed, hugging the first one from behind. This girl wore a black t-shirt with a rainbow across it that read “come out, come out, wherever you are”, along with a flowing black skirt and rainbow striped knee-high socks. She had two lip rings, one on the left side and one on the right side of her bottom lip.

“Chai,” another girl interrupted, obviously wanting them to hurry up and order. She wore jeans and a ripped up band shirt with a large symbol very similar to a pentagram on the front. Her lip was also pierced, in the center like Chester’s, and she had a nose ring as well.

“Chai!” the one with the lip rings grinned and stepped up to the counter, slinging her arm around the waist of a taller boy with his eyebrow pierced just like Chester’s and a lip ring just left of the center of his bottom lip.

As they took their sweet time ordering, annoying the cashier to no end, two other boys walked in, followed by a loud girl who also had her lip pierced in the center. The two boys’ fingers were laced together and it was obvious that they were a couple. The taller of the two boys had long dark hair and was very thin. The shorter and darker was not as talkative but it was obvious that he enjoyed the company of this particular crowd.

I tried to force my eyes to stick to the page, but eventually they drew over to the group across the room as they all seemed to burst into laughter at once. I didn’t know exactly what they were talking about but I had distinctly heard the words ‘queef’ and ‘nipple rings.’ The topic of conversation switched to masturbation and sex toys and flavored lube and foot fetishes. The two boys had their arms wrapped around each other and when the one with the longer hair turned and began to kiss his boyfriend, I closed my book and got up to leave.

“Asshole,” the one with two lip rings called after me just as I opened the door.

I paused and looked back at them, bewildered. She glared at me, daring me to say something. The rest of her friends turned to look at me, confused. Slowly I turned back around and left. I was unlocking my car when I heard a voice call out to me. Thinking it was Lip Rings trying to continue her little confrontation, I rolled my eyes and looked back at her with the closest to a blank expression I could manage. I was not in the mood for it.

But it wasn’t Lip Rings. This girl had no facial piercings. She was wearing tattered black pants and a black band t-shirt. She was holding a black hoodie and a large dark green backpack.

“Yes?” I asked politely.

“Sorry to bother you, but I’m totally lost. Do you happen to know where…” she looked down at a wrinkled sheet of paper. “Valley Christian High School is?”

“Yep, that’s my school.” I smiled at her. “But campus is closed right now. You might wanna try going there tomorrow.” It was nearly 7 pm.

“Well it’s not like I have somewhere else to go.”

“Alright… you’re catching the bus?”

She nodded.

“Well it’s gonna take you about 2 hours that way. Is there someone in particular that you’re looking for? Perhaps they could come get you; it’s only a half hour away if you’re driving.”

She pursed her lips for a second. “Do you know a fag named Chester Bennington?”

+~+

“So can I ask you something?”

I glanced at her and nodded, taking a left.

“If you hate queers so much, how’d you get to be friends with Chaz?”

“What? I…” I cleared my throat. “I don’t hate… them. Was… was I being an asshole?” I winced at my own language.

“Well you are staring at that gay couple pretty hard and when they started making out you got up and left in quite a hurry. Which tends to mean one of two things.”

At the red light, I turned to look at her. “Which are?”

“One, that you hate gay people.” I opened my mouth to protest but she went on. “Or two, that you’re not comfortable around them because you’re not yet comfortable with your own sexuality.”

I stared at her.

“The light’s green.”

I pulled up and made a right. This was a pretty up scaled neighborhood. The houses were big, the yards were big, the trees and exotic plants providing a cool shade from the sun, kind of like some sort of oasis in Southern California’s heat.

“8101… 8103… 8105…” She was counting off the addresses as I looked at all of the strange mailboxes and plants. “8109, this is it.”

I pulled over and parked in front of a large dark green house with dark wood furnishings. There were a lot of plants and trees in the front on the house so it seemed almost like a great place to get kidnapped or raped.

My passenger looked at me. “Aren’t you getting out?”

“Aren’t you?”

She looked up at the house. “If you don’t go with me I might kill him.”

“What makes you think my presence will stop you?”

“It wouldn’t. But from what I’ve heard, your drummer’s arms can.”

I blinked at her.

“Brad was rather ambivalent over whether or not he was glad you’d stopped him.”

I nodded. “So what, I have a reputation of protecting him?”

“You have a reputation for giving a shit. Which is more than can be said for a lot of people that have come and gone in Chester’s life.”

I removed the keys from the ignition and opened my door. “Shall we?”

The strange chimes rang inside the house and not 30 seconds later, the door opened. When Chester appeared there was a blur of motion that perhaps I should have anticipated. Jezebel moved past me and struck Chester’s throat with a closed fist before I’d even realized what was happening. I quickly reached her and held her arms down until she calmed down.

Chester coughed painfully. “Let her go,” he barely managed to whisper.

I hesitantly obeyed.

She stared at him for a few seconds and then stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him. He hugged her back and as I awkwardly stood by, I couldn’t help but hear their quiet conversation.

“You have no idea how much you scared us, asshole.”

“I know, I’m sorry. I just… I was…”

“Being an idiot,” she finished.

“Yea… I’ve missed you.”

“Don’t see how you could not miss me.” She pulled away and punched him in the arm, then wandered into the house.

He winced and rubbed his arm for a second, sending a crooked smile my way. “She’s like this whether or not she’s mad.” He reached down and grabbed the green backpack still sitting on the front porch. “Coming in?”

+

boys beware!

vanchizzle@yahoo.com — Wed, 14 Mar 2007 03:50:31 GMT

the homosexual is everywhere!

film made in 1954 by sid davis.

robert bobby "susan" santos..

vanchizzle@yahoo.com — Mon, 26 Feb 2007 19:13:18 GMT

rest in peace.
you will always be loved and missed.
your pervy jokes, your love for slash, your beliefs in love and monogamy, your smile and laugh.
days i spent with you were never dull.

the cause of death was catastrophic antiphospholipid syndrome. he was born with it and apparently it was triggered a few months ago from some fungus. he'd been in the hospital ever since.
it hurts so much more knowing that juan wans't mistaken, that this really happened to our susan.

i hate being this far and disconnected from everything. i hoep the funeral's on a saturday so i can go.

say that you'll never leave me...

vanchizzle@yahoo.com — Fri, 23 Feb 2007 01:01:16 GMT

sigh, lent is hard.

i've decided march will be the month that i post no pictures.

at any rate,
friday i put together a puzzle with teh roommates.

the unit 1 courtyard at night.

the view from the 3rd floor balcony

nique came down to kick it saturday and we went into the city for some quality time with paco & co.

on the way, we saw this dude pop locking at the muni station and it was hilarious. we walked around castro a while

the people paco associates himself with are like mad drama, but serenity and chris and juan are cool. marcus is cool to kick it with, but he practically immerses himself in drama. there was a lot of pointless driving around,

san francisco is so freaking beautiful at night.

a lot of Gwen Stefani's yummy, a whole lot of jokign and laughter,

it was effing cold at twin peaks, pretty much the san francisco equivalent of signal hill. well, i thought it was much prettier but what do i know?

and a little eating. that burrito was effing delicious. i totally think serenity like nique, although she doesn't liek me saying it. the whoel time we were there she was asking if we were coming bakc to berkeley or staying the night with them. i didn't particularly care, it was cute! then when it came time to go out, me and nique didn't really feel like going, she was tired and i wasn't wearign the right shoes. but after serenity pressuring us for a long time and paco convincing me it wouldn't be nearly as crowded as rage, i went and nique stayed. outside, the security asked paco if he knew it was a gay event, lmfao. it was hilarious.

they were playing Guys Gone Wild in one of the rooms at Adonis!

marcus bein crazy.

now let's get it!

serenity was getting it all night. it was great.

chris did not dance at all.

it was hot!

nasty old guy.

so we went back to paco's place and slept. it was gross though, because i was mad nasty and sweaty and i really hate that feeling. the next morning, i was nauseated by my body. but had to go hoem to take a shower. as in, 2 hour ride home. we left paco our burritos and a note [i didn't want to wake you hun, i'm sorry for leaving without saying something!] and i'm not going into detail about how the muni pissed me off. when we got back to my dorm we took showers [i had never been happier to take a shower here] and it was good. then i went downstairs to get let louis into the building...

oh yes, louis. lemme tell you what this dumb ass did. he drove 600 miles to come see me, but didn't even really state that that was why he was here. i thought he was debating! and that we'd only spend a little time together. but nooo. he was just here for me and i kinda felt bad for making previous plans but it was totally not my fault. so we spent sunday and monday together, making fun of things and each other. i met his friend luis, who i don't think i've mentioned to any of you... he's sweet and gay.

i put together a puzzle sunday night! well, i put together

this

and then

passed out.

i showed him the protestors in the trees and took him to brunch with the other people on my floor. and we walked around a while before it was time for him to leave.

and we're not gonna go into detail about sunday night/monday morning, and why i'm writing a fricken original het fic. unless you really want me to.

oh and guess what i did today that i really shouldn't have?!

bought these shorts. they're so hot.

001. What is Your Name? tracie
002. How old are you? 18
003. What is the link to your website, blog, or myspace? /vanchizzle, but this link doesn't even work. >.>
004. What is Your Name? penis
005. How old are you? 34
006. What is the link to your website, blog, or myspace? /penisinyouranus
007. Gender? male :D
008. Height? 5'7
009. Weight? 125
010. Shoe size? 10
011. Hair color? black
012. Hair length? shoulder-length
013. Eye color? dark brown
014. Zodiac sign? cancer
015. Body type/size? uhm, thin?
016. Birthday? june 29, 1988
017. Where do you you live? berkeley. :D
018. Race/ethnicity? african american... with some other stuff in there.
019. Grade/year? first year at uni
020. Hobby? eating, sleeping, avoiding homework, ~~masturbating, playing solitaire~~, writing, reading..
021. Do you exercise? I haven't recently because i've had so much work.

Are you.
022. Healthy? sure. {takes multivitamin}
023. Serious or Funny? both. :D
024. Sarcastic? yes, although few notice
025. Good-looking? haven't cooked in 2 months.
026. Optimistic? sure.
027. Smart? i guess so.
028. Sexy? hells yes.
029. Shy or Talkative? shy if i dun know you.
030. Happy or Depressed? currently i'm somewhere in the middle
031. Musical? i love music, can't play/sing for shit
032. Horny? all day, every day. since the age of 6 :D
033. Brave? on occasion

This or That?
034. Righty or lefty or either? right
035. Guys or Girls? either
036. East Coast or West Coast? {throws up westside sign}
037. Glasses or contacts or none? neither
038. Bath or shower? bath. my feet haven't soaked properly in 2 months.they're getting gross.
039. Pool or ocean? pool
040. Punk or goth or prep or thug? all of the above.
041. Thong or Other? either.
042. Tan or pale or average? black. i'm black, bitch.
043. Freckles or none? none
044. TV or movie? CSI. QAF. Noah's Arc. That is all.
045. Briefs or Boxers? boxers or boxer breifs
046. Meat or vegetable? no meat, thanks.
047. Chocolate or vanilla? chocolate, all day every day.
048. Cake or cookie? PIE. with apples in it. and ice cream on the side.
049. Brand name or couldn't care less? don't care.
050. AIM or phone? AIM

Family....
051. Parents married/divorced/neither? divorced
052. Their Job/Career? mom: verizon dad: beckman
053. How is your relationship with your parents? uhm... better now that we never see each other?
054. Siblings & their age? niki is 22
055. How is your relationship with your siblings? we get along pretty well and miss each other lots..
056. Are your parents too strict? no.
057. Do you have any stepparents? no
058. Do you have any children of your own? hell no.
059. If so, what are their names and ages? If not, do you want any? eventually yes

Favorite...
060. Car? one that goes.
061. Food? vegetable tempura, buttermilk pancakes, roscoe's waffles, cake, apple pie, my spaghetti, monkey bread, granny's macaroni and cheese, cupcakes, noodles, chili cheese fries
062. Drink? odwalla's strawberry C monster. i'm also rather fond of tangerine!
063. Store? target.
064. Movie? shrugs.
065. Song? currently, the one that's playing. "everybody wants to rule the world" by tears for fears.
066. Show? CSI, QAF, Noah's Arc
067. Music type? techno, hip hip, pop, bad 80's pop, j-pop, "alternative rock", metal
068. Season? summah
069. Holiday? none
070. Shampoo/conditioner? dun care
071. Phrase or Word? penis. fancy
072. Recent Memory? shrugs
073. Oldest Memory? heh, none.
074. Sport? don't care for them
075. Person? no comment. :D
076. Sandwich? i dun care
077. Thing To Do When Your Bored? ~~masturbate, play solitaire~~

Sex...
078. Sexual orientation? some would call it bi.
079. Virgin? yesh. >.<
080. If not, when was your first time? it should have been this fuckin weekend. not bitter at all >.>
081. Last time you had oral sex? oh man it's been like... 3 years? maybe 4.
082. Does size matter? yes. but i'm not gonna turn a great guy with a small penis. there are other possibilities. :D
083. Last time you french kissed someone? january 1st
084. Ever gave/received a hickey? aww man i miss hickies! haven't had one since january... 3rd?

Friends....
085. Would you consider yourself a good friend? most of the time
086. Would you rather have a lot of friends or a few good friends? a few good ones.
087. Who is your best friend? i have a few.
088. How many good friends do you have? 7
089. Do you have pen pals? i have internet people that i sometimes send shit to.
090. Do you think your friends ever get tired of you? often
091. Do you ever get tired of your friends? some more than others

Love...
092. Have you ever been in love? yes. it blows.
093. Do you believe in love at first sight? yes
094. Ever been dumped? no
095. Are you with someone/single/dating/none? single-ish. but billy is my boyfriend! and the complex situtation with louis that seems to only get more and more complicated...
096. When was your last date? my last official date was... 3 or 4 months ago, i guess
097. What was your longest relationship? 9 months
098. Do you have a crush? yes, the=is chick in my african american class! she's great! and some others..
099. Would you ever date someone for sexual reasons? no. there is no one i would bare myself to without having feelings for them. yes, that's virgin talk. but even if i wasn't a virgin, i'd say no, that what one night stands are for.
100. What's the best thing about the opposite sex? they're pretty much always ready for sex? :D
101. Have you ever kissed someone of the same sex? lmao, have i ever.
102. What's the first thing you notice about the opposite sex? clothes/demeanor
103. Turn-on's? intelligent. funny. caring.
104. Turn-off's? ignorance. bigotry.
105. Do you think the opposite sex finds you attractive? if they don't they have a funny way of showign it. >.>
106. Your perfect date? good food, good laughs, good time.

What's your thoughts on
107. Gay marriage? fuck those queers!
108. Smoking? no thx
109. Drugs? some people need the pain to go away.
110. Sex before marriage? well what the fuck are fags supposed to do? there is no marriage for some of us. and personally i think virginity clouds your judgement. sex before marriage is a good idea. because no one wants to die only having fucked one person, never having experienced others.
111. Porn? great times.
112. Alcohol? no thx
113. Racism? no thx
114. Cloning? yes, pls. i would sooo do my clone.
115. Suicide? hurts those left behind. :(
116. Death penalty? yay death!
117. Our president? i say we revolt!
118. Downloading music? yay downloading
119. School uniforms? disgustuing

Religion...
120. What is your religion? no thank you.
121. Do you go/ to religious gatherings? organized religion is mob mentality.
122. Do your parents care if you practice the same religion as them or not? my parents are still convinced i'm christian. i mean honestly...
123. Do you believe a superior being exists/ existed and created life? yes.
124. Ghosts? sure.

Animals....
125. Do you have any pets? i miss them!
126. If so what are they? If not, do you want any? doggies!
127. What kind of pet would you like to have? another doggie!

Education
128. Do you like school? it's expensive and a lot of work and really just a big headache.... but yes, i do.
129. Would you rather be home schooled? not even a little.
130. Would you rather go to public or private school? public.
131. Have you ever skipped school? yes
132. Been suspended? no
133. In detention? yes lol
134. Where do you normally sit in class (front or back)? front-ish
135. What's your favorite subject? physics for future presidents
136. Least favorite? none really
137. What are your grades generally like? at this poitn i don't know
138. College? expensivez!

Have you ever
139. Stole something? What was it? yes, but i don't anymore.
140. Cried yourself to sleep? many a time
141. Went skinny dipping? no
142. Been to sleep-away camp? yes
143. Seen someone die? no
144. Played strip poker? no
145. Climbed a tree? yes
146. Kissed someone on a dare? played spin the bottle.
147. Fallen from a tree? no
148. Gone streaking? no
149. Been to Disneyland/world? disneyland many times.
150. Had a one night stand? no
151. Been chased by the cops? no
152. Been in a fight? Who won? no
153. Been robbed? no.
154. Been stung by a bee? no
155. Been thrown in a pool with all your clothes on? hell no. i'd fucking kill someoen for that shit.
156. Skied? no
157. Sang in the shower? yes
158. Had to go to the Hospital? For what? no
159. Been on stage? When? yes, in 8th grade

A Typical day in the life of you
160. What time do you usually wake up? 8 or 8:15 am
161. What is the 1st thing you do when you get up? take off my pants, put on my robe, go to the bathroom
162. Do you eat breakfast? chocolate donut and a strawberry c mmonster
163. Do you go to work or school? school
164. What do you eat for lunch? uhm, varies. noodles, a salad, chili cheese fries, whatever i'm in the mood for.
165. What's the most exciting that happened this week? sleepign with louis.
166. What is the 1st thing you do when you get home? turn on the computer and take of some layers of clothing.
167. Do you ever take naps? naps are good for the soul. imma have one when i'm done with this survey
168. Do you do chores when you get home? nope. :D
169. Whats your favorite website? most visited: lj, lpf, myspace, yahoomail, calmail, facebook
170. What is the 1st thing you look at when you go online? myspace, lj
171. Do you talk on aim much? every day
172. Who do you talk with most? louis, cami.
173. How Long do you watch TV? i don't.
174. Would you rather the internet break or the TV? TV.
175. Do you go out on weekends? depends.
176. Where do you go? paco's place, party with teh roomies
177. Do you need your alone time in the evening? a little, ~~to masturbate~~
178. When do you normally eat dinner? 5 or 8
179. Home cooked or eat out? i miss cooking
180. Do you go to the bed at a certain time every night? 11 or 1 ish
181. What do you wear to bed? pajama pants and a shirt

Misc.
182. Are you a daredevil? no
183. What color are your socks today? black and grey striped kneesocks
184. What do you think about make-up? eyeliner and lipstick for special occasions, chapstick always.
185. Random word that starts with Q? queer. :D
186. If you could live anywhere, where would it be? san francisco. >.>
187. Do you like to be naked? yep
188. All your base ________? ...?
189. Which celebrities have you met, if any? I've met Linkin Park twice and Kyla Pratt once.
190. The most embarrassing things you've ever done in public? dun care
191. When you're in your house do you pee with the door open or closed? closed and locked.
192. Even if it's only your family there? peeing is alone time!
193. Is there anything you're obsessed with? sex, boi love, dancing.
194. What are you allergic to? nothing
195. What are you wearing? green long sleeved shirt, under my "come out, come out, wherever you are" rainbow shirt, black panties and bra, light blue pajama pants, socks.
196. What's in your room? my shit, yuki's shit, and pamela's shit.
197. What's on your walls? pictures of people, a rainbow boa, a rainbow flag, a pic of angelina, pamela and yuki's stuff
198. What are you going to do after this? nap!
199. How do you vent? writing, yelling, ranting.
200. Do you sleep with stuffed animals? not enough room for inanimate objects.
201. Do you chat in Internet Chat rooms? not unless i'm invited to a private chat
202. Have you been to any concerts? 6
203. Ever go camping? yes
204. Are you last picked in gym class? gym class, HAHAHA.
205. Do you willingly read books besides the ones your teachers make you read? i love them more.
206. Can you lick your elbow? no
207. Did you just try to lick your elbow? no
208. Do you like to cuddle? yes. a lot.
209. What are you bad habits? feeling sorry for myself, procrastinating, attacking peope for no reason.
210. Do you own a cell phone? yes
211. Ever/do you wear braces? no
212. Did you ever color or highlight your hair? i had pink tips for a while.
213. What's usually on your wrist? nothing..
214. How long does it take you to get dressed each day? 5 minutes... although pickign the outfit takes longer
215. Do you shower every day? most of the time.
216. What was your best dream ever? no comment. :)
217. How many hours per day do you spend online? too many
218. Do you have an iPod? If yes, what kind, and how many songs? a black nano with 2 gigs, 448 songs
219. Do you have a digital camera? it's my lovah.
220. If you could take back one thing from your childhood, what would it be? nothing.
221. Would you rather win an Oscar or a Nobel Prize? a pie! nobel prize.
222. Are you glad this is over? sure.

choking, controlling, revolting, all that shit that's who you are.

vanchizzle@yahoo.com — Sat, 03 Feb 2007 07:38:22 GMT

title: tears
genre: angst
rating: pg-13 for language.
summary: he's crying. he's fucking crying. and this is supposed to mean something?

A tear.

A fucking tear.

Oh God, a tear. I laugh.

Followed by another tear, and another.

I laugh harder.

A choked sob, a shuddering intake of breath.

Now I’m practically crying. Tears! He’s fucking crying. And this is supposed to mean something to me.

“Ches…”

He whispers my nickname pitifully, much to my amusement. My stomach is starting to hurt with the exertion of my laughter.

The look in his eyes… the pain that fills them is moving.

No really, it’s moving me to want to slap the shit out of him. Does he think I give a fuck? Honestly?

“I… I’m sorry.”

“HAH!” He’s sorry! Oh, well that changes everything. Or no, wait. It means fucking nothing. The laughter stops abruptly. “You’re sorry? Your mumbled half-assed apology in the middle of the fucking night is supposed to make the rain clouds go away? My heart is supposed to jump in happiness, right? I’m supposed to care.”

The look he’s giving me is indescribable. The tears are still falling, and it’s obvious he’s struggling to control the sobs.

“Honestly. You knock on my door at 2 am and I’m supposed to let you in? To hold you and comfort you and kiss your tears away? Tell you it’s all right, and that we can fix things? It’s taking all my will not to lick your tears away right now, because I want to taste your pain.”

He visibly flinches.

“You know what? I don’t even think those are real tears. You never know what technology they’ve come out with these days.”

He’s hugging himself in some lame attempt to hold himself together and really, it’s disgusting.

“No, because only real people cry tears. You know, people. They have feelings, they feel love. They care about other people. Oh. Have you decided you’d like to stop being a heartless asshole and start being a real person?”

He nods and wipes his dripping nose with the sleeve of his black hoodie.

I laugh again. I really can’t help it. “Too bad,” I manage to say. “I already killed that part of me.”

He shakes his head.

I stop laughing and glare. “Don’t believe me? That’s fine.”

“You...” his voice cracks and it’s revolting. “You didn’t kill anything.”

Anger is beginning to edge its way into my conscious thoughts but I don’t give in. I simply smile an empty smile. “Go home, Mike. Cry yourself to sleep. Go fuck whoever. I’m tired, and I’m bored. Goodnight.” And I move back to slam the door in his face when he stops me.

He shoves the door open and grabs me, one hand on my neck and one holding the back of my head.

I know it’s going to happen and it turns my stomach when his lips touch mine. I shove at him, trying to pull away even as his tongue searches my mouth. When I finally get away from his hold, it takes all my strength not to vomit right then.

He looks at me and slowly turns and leaves, closing the door behind him.

I don’t know, or care what conclusion he came to thanks to that little interaction. I’m too busy hunching over, unable to hold my stomach’s contents anymore. The smell is disgusting, the sound is disgusting, my throat burns, and I even got some on myself. Great.

Slowly I sink to the floor and stare at the ceiling. As if on cue, they start. They start and I hate them and I hate myself for letting them fall and I hate him for making me this way and it’s all bad and you know what? I want to not care so bad sometimes I can’t breathe. I want it so bad I can’t sleep or eat or move or hear or see.

I touch a finger to my face and pull it away, staring at the wetness. And I laugh.

It’s pitiful and situated between loud sobs, but that’s fine. It’s appropriate, because it’s the way the laughter of bitter irony should be.

What’s funny?

This all started with a tear. A fucking tear.

the end.

The Weekend pt. iii - the party!

vanchizzle@yahoo.com — Mon, 15 Jan 2007 01:50:14 GMT

so new year's eve came around and with it some excitement and some trepidation. i was nervous that my dad would start being an asshole, that people would be bored, that somethign important would break, that my dad hadn't paid the electric bill, that only 3 people would come, etc etc. BUT, all the nerves were in vain. well, not all. some people were bored but i didn't much care.

this, as were the first and second parts, is mad image heavy.

let's see, it started with paco and john and me hanging out. i asked them to stop me from doign something stupid during the party. they agreed. then john and i kept trying to beat each other's tetris score [he won that particular time], then more people were there and there were pancakes! yay. then there was candy and brittany showed up with even more candy. at this point everyone is hyper as hell so cami and nique and i begin to fight over the reese's bag.

i let them have that one.

ignore the slightly psychotic look in my eyes. :)

camille brought Twister! but left the bored at home so our ghetto asses grabbed some cardboard and made a new one, using a pen.

as john teasingly danced to whatever music.

billy's hung up on me!!

and i taught everyone how to do the hustle!

yea, i'm a tease. so what?

ignore that weird ass facial expression. o.O

and i danced on the footrest thingy... and laughed.

the game was long and paco kept taking pics of their asses.

lapdance yay!

i was dancing. i liked the music! krystelle kept smacking my ass lol.

we watched Saved!

johna nd gabby got cute rings.

then everyone [with the exception of me cami d'art michael paco and brandon] got stoned.

then came the achohol.

there was barely anything left but john wanted to be cool have have some from the bottle anyway.

somewhere thereafter i beat johns score and he was very distressed by this.

my last few pics of 2006 are of john and paco, and appropriately so.

and the first pic of 2007!

there was dancing

and a lot of noisemaking.

and more dancing

and more noisemaking

we even did the bankhead bounce. {shakes head}

and some boi love! :D

and a whole lot of me actign drunk with the sparkling cider.
at this point, john and paco are too caught up in each other/being intoxicated to keep me from beign a moron, so i ask brittany [my ex, for those of you that don't know] for my first kiss of 2007. she looks extremely uncomfortable and doesn't really answer and i apologize but can't keep myself from glancing at her every few seconds.

then we all sat around for a nice wholesome game of spin the bottle. so much for my first kiss lmao.

nique got brandon on first spin lmao.

some boy/girl kissing..

some non-boy/girl kissing..

some paco slapping john's ass and yelling that 5 seconds was up!!

soime weird ass faces...

some gabby being really excited about gettign to kiss krystelle

some billy/james lovings. ^___^

after which nique tells me that brittany wants me "really bad right now... well, not just now, all the time, but especially now" and i take brittany into my room so we can talk. but brandon interrupts before the conversation even really starts to tell me there's something in the den i "might want to see."

and i forgive him for interrupting as i salivate.

we go back into my room and we don't really reach a conclusion at all, but we do tell each other how we feel, and i had no idea just how good it would feel to tell her these things i'd held inside since march.
i ended up not sleeping alone that night. ^_^ and get your mind out of the gutter, perves. there was no sex. just some heavy making out and these

the next day the first thing krystelle says is "what the fuck happened to your neck?!" and i am amused greatly. niki buys us donuts and we play UNO.

then paco and john begin to play with the chocolate syrup... yum.

paco and john make out some
during the whole video i'm trying to get brittany to get the chocolate syrup from behind them and she doesn't understand what i'm saying. that's why i practically scream when paco mumbles about chocolate. and he so suggests the chocolate orgy before i do, if you listen.

i then proceed to grab the chocolate and pour it on john's chest. ignore the talking/laughter. :)
paco and john make out with chocolate

the rest of the day is just chill, we eat, we hang out, we watch another movie, we rate 2006 on a scale of one to ten, discuss new year's resolutions, talk about when we knew we were gay, etc. it's not until everyone but billy is gone, right after i kis brittany goodnight, that i realize, i was kissing brittany goodbye and that was my farewell party. i mean, i knew that when i planned the party. but it didn't really hit me until then. and i become sad.

recap!
clubbin, poor service at denny's, lectures from my dad, dancing, spankings, time warp!, creepy parking lots, csi, pancakes, liquor, MAAN!, anime about being raped with corn, microphones in billy's eyebrow, krystelle's nipple rings, twister, the hustle, everytime we touch, gogo boys in drag, a whole lotta makin out, some hickies, no sex [damn periods], the view, horrified little old ladies, jesus people!, jesus blood!, ghetto people in mc donald's parking lots, a whole lotta surprise sex, christ love, ice cream sundaes, confessions, chocolate covered boi love...

best weekend of my life. i love you guys.

a new sheriff is in town.

vanchizzle@yahoo.com — Sun, 14 Jan 2007 23:45:42 GMT

i will not be a failure this semester.
i will not feel like a failure this semester.
i will give this my all because i have everything to gain, and everything to lose.

i will not waste all my time on lj, myspace, facebook, or the lpf boards.
all are unnecessary distractions that will not be tolerated.
my apologies in advance for my impending hiatus.

should you need/want to contact me, you should know how.
if not, all can be found in my userinfo.

The Weekend pt. ii - this looks like a no parking zone

vanchizzle@yahoo.com — Sat, 13 Jan 2007 07:19:21 GMT

sorry for the delay, moving and laziness gets in the way of many things. this is the continuum of best weekend eva!!!1 pt.i - i just wanna fuckin dance

friday came along, and with it extreme boredom [and my ears were still ringing lol]. i went to cvs pharmacy to get some pics printed so i could finish my photo album before the party on sunday. brandon and nique stalked me down and kidnapped me, and next thing i know we're at the McDonald's by Billy's house laughing about green prayer cloths and holy water. warning: sacreligious talk inside!

while we were in McDonald's being loud and ghetto, the subject or my Tetris addiction came up. Nique pulls out her phone and tried to tempt me into playing. i resist, but billy is not as strong. we go out to the cars, brandon and nique to brandon's car, paco and camille to paco's car. camille yells out the window for billy to get in, but billy, who simply cannot put down nique's phone, gets into brandon's car. brandon and nique start bragging about how they get both me and billy, so i get in paco's car and lock my door. then, of course, brandon and nique start banging on my window yellign for me to "open this muthafuckin window!", causing paco to get out the car and get ghetto with them. camille joins in and i get out to take pictures, because this is positively hilarious.

sigh, i love it when they fight over me. ;)

...all this as billy continues to play tetris lmao.

we go to the pike, go to borders and have act like we're on a talk show of some sort, sitting around one of the tables in the cafe and discussing our relationships with our parents, etc. it was amusing, especially when i asked dominique to explain the lyrics of "back that ass up" by juvenile. in the song he says the words dick bandit, and i was curious as to whether he steals dick, takes dick, or is a bandit that happens to have a dick. nique proceeds to explain how he means that he steals the pussy, just as this old woman passes by. she gives us this horrified look and keeps walking, and everyone at the table is laughing so hard they're crying. afterwards, we head on to cold stone's [like dumbasses, we were already cold, so we decide to get ice cream, right?], and then brandon has to leave.

i figured why not take pics.

then i suggested we go up to the top floor of the parking lot to look at the view. we're on the 5th floor when i get a call from brandon [who's at the bottom of the structure, about to leave] saying he can hear dominique talking with his windows rolled up, from 5 floors down. yea, she's just a little loud.

at the top, i climb up a little bit to take a look at the view. billy hops up and stands on the ledge, and dances, much to all of our horror. paco turns and walks away, while camille is screeching for him to get down. he proceeds to jump around and lean over the edge. nique's cursing and screaming at him and i'm telling him as calmly as i can to get his ass down. finally he climbs down and i punch him before walkign away.

on the way down, he suggests we go to "the really cool parking lot". all of us are skeptical, but agree anyway, out of boredom.

the second we walk in, it's creepy as hell.

after a while we realized there's a guy sitting in his car watching us. real real creepy-like

he gets out of his car and he's wearing an apron. of course the logical conclusion is that he's a chef at the Hyatt, since that was the hotel we were under. but i immediately though, FUCK he's gonna cut me into little pieces and feed me to someone. yes, i watch too much csi. dude in the apron walks over to his other friend in an apron

and billy and i try to be stealthy as we make our escape.

but the place is seriously creepy. we got split up from the others when we jumped off this ledge and when we went back around to meet up with them, they were gone. we knew they were trying to scare us so we snuck around for a while hoping to scare them instead. they hid behind some car and let out a high pitched scream but only scared paco [who was with them] so that was funny.

there's all these freaky ass passageways and i start to seriously feel like i'm in an episode of csi, or the beginning of some cheap as horror film.

there's all these weird ass cages and i'm pretty sure by this point in my paranoia i'm mumblign to myself things liek "that's a great place to keep a body" and "this is a great place to get raped" and "what IS that on the ceiling?!" etc etc.

the ceiling in question.

so we decide to investigate because in a place like this, obviously a crime has been committed.

we photographed the fluids and everyone was shocked to find i don't carry cotton swabs around with me to get a sample, lmao.

we start to hear voices at this point and skateboards. and my first thought of course is creepy secluded parking lot + five faggots + darkness = fuck. but there wa sonly five of them so we figured we could take them. of course i'm highly paranoid, but i have to explore these things mentally before i do anything. suddenyl there's more people on the skateboards. a lot more. like us times 3. i want to hide. everyone thinks i'm being an idiot.

but we hide behind this stretch limo anyway. :-D

and photograph the license plate because it's obviously connected to the crime.

then we started finding the weirdest most random shit ever.

and did i mention creepy?

i swore there were bodies in there.

but we hid behind them when the voices got louder, despite paco's worry that there would be black widows and other poisonous things back there.

billy is amazed at the things he sees behind the fence.

i am disturbed at the things i see behind the fence.

again we hide, because the voices really are getting louder and i really do think there's trouble in the air.
and don't you just love the concerned look billy wears?!

ashes, because they obviously burned the bodies up.

rope to strangle them with.

more ashes [disturbing!]

rugs to transport the bodies in.

yea we were just screwing around then.

i'm inspecting the door handle.

paco is lookign around as if he does not know us.

blood, obviously.

random ovens.

camille appeared and scared the crap out of me.

weird ass patterns on the wall.

by now, i'm positive we're goign to find somethign we're not supposed to. and suddenly i hear paco scream "there's a body in there!!!" from behind one of the ovens and we all run away.

then we go back to find that it's just clothes.

we get outside and there are people with signs. signs that say "it's all about jesus!!", etc. everyone pauses and i can tell by the silence that everyone is just waiting for the "fags go to hell!" sign. luckily we don't see one so we just go for fries.

and that was our csi-like adventure. STARRING:

he doesn't have a specialty because i have no idea what greg's specialty is.

:D!

in general it was an interesting night, full of paranoia and laughter and doign things we knew our mothers would slap us for.

the next night was rocky horror picture show, which was fabulous of course.

you love my outfit.

the colors are weird because i fiddle with this pic for half an hour then jujst gave up.

we danced

we flashed each other.

billy wore my coat and jose was there! i haven't seen his cute self in forever. he's so fabulous.

blurry, but krystelle is holding a whip. {licks lips}

you love my coat. i know.

not as exciting as the first part i'm sure. it was one of those you-had-to-be-there things. {nods}
final part to come soon. ^_^

best weekend eva!!!!!!! pt. i

vanchizzle@yahoo.com — Wed, 03 Jan 2007 22:53:41 GMT

so.

this was pretty the best weekend of my life. so many friends, so much candy, so much laughter, so much dancing and so many pics. not to mention a whole lotta making out. and did i mention boi love?!

posted in three parts because it's a whole lotta pics and a very long read otherwise.

thursday night, the plan was to meet up at my house and then head off to club rage around 9pm or so. krystelle, paco, nique, cami, james and i sit around my house until 9:30, when juan tells us that brandon won't be able to get here till closer to 11:30. it takes half an hour to get there, and the place closes at 2 am. we're all disappointed, but since there's too many to fit in paco's car, we sit and wait.

playing tetris, etc.

oh i'm sexy. you know it.

tired of waiting, getting slightly annoyed with everything.

booored...

her hair owns so hard.

so we finally leave. but brandon, who is in the car in front of us, decides to stop at a green light. mind you, i've lived here my whoel life and i know, that light stays green for about 30 seconds and stays red for like 15 minutes. brandon makes the light but we know we're going to miss it, but i tell paco to go anyway. it's the middle of the night i just wanna fuckin dance, k?! however. there was a cop at the intersection that we did not see. hooray!! we get pulled over. everythign is silent except paco going "oh my goodness..." repeatedly. everyone in the car is shitting a brick. brandon rounds the corner and disappears from sight. the officer lets us go with a warning after mentally gauging just how sober we are [what kind of idiot runs a red light in front of a police officer?!], and we take off, carefully obeying every traffic signal from then on. the ride there is very very quiet.

we get there at about midnight, search for parking for 10 minutes, walk a block up the street while freezing our asses off,

wait in line for a while,

and it turns out we have to pay, because it's only free until 11. then we hit the dance floor and it's all good.

juan is sooo crushing on krystelle. she told me later that he kept grabbing her ass liek the whole time.

lmao, paco's just a little gay.

they weren't particularly hot, but the way they were dancing... pleasant to the eyes. ^_^

so. some song by jessica simpson comes on. krystelle, nique, james, and cami all stop dancing because they're morally against her. i don't particularly care for her, but again, i just wanna fuckin dance, so i do. but before i even can, paco jumps into the circl of motionless bodies and starts grooving to it. i mean real gay-like. liek he was skipping and throwin rainbows at people and everything. sometimes he surprises me. i just love him!

apparently brandon went into this weird trance and paco and camille were laughing at him.

james got more play than any of us that night.

he was cute, but he kept hittign me in the head as he danced above me and i was annoyed.

hot!

my favorite one of krystelle, by far.

me and juan are so hot.

she was obviously horrified by who was calling.
not really, but for the sake of the pic, yes.

slow shutter speed but i still like it.
yes, that is me being creepy on the left.

yes, same gogo boy as last time. but this time in drag! he is so cute i just love him. nique waved at him and he blew her a kiss and waved his wand at her. i was all squeee. james said i was shootign love at him with my eyes. o.O

hot!

afterwards. ^_^

all in all, it was a faaabulous night. even though our server at denny's sucked major asshole. c'est la vie! ^_^

next portion to come soon.

warrick is early

vanchizzle@yahoo.com — Sun, 24 Dec 2006 08:19:15 GMT

title: Warrick is Early.
author: bennizzlejizzle
fandom: CSI: Crime Scene Investigation
pairing: Warrick/Greg
rating: PG-13 thus far.
author’s notes: there’s not enough of my OTP out there. And of my sadness due to this fact, this fic was born. I own nothing.
summary: Nick’s worried about Warrick. Warrick’s worried about the new DNA tech and her relationship with Greg. Greg’s worried about… well, Warrick has no clue what he’s worried about.

Warrick is early. Not like five minutes early, when he can just saunter in and have a cup of coffee before assignments are handed out. And not like an hour early, when he can go grab something to eat and still be on time. No, he’s idling in the lot outside the lab a grand total of twenty minutes earlier than he needs to be, and he’s most certainly not looking forward to sitting inside the break room that whole stretch of time, watching the news or staring idly as people walk the halls, all doing more important things than him. To be honest, Warrick hasn’t found himself looking forward to much as of late.

He wouldn’t call it depression [part of him largely associates the word with attention-seeking teenage girls], but he’s not sure what else to call it.

And it’s distracting. Not distracting enough to deter him from doing his job as well as he always has, but distracting enough that he finds it just that much harder to sleep at night [so to speak] and much harder to get up in the morning [figuratively, of course].

And there he goes, being distracted by it yet again. Ten minutes have passed since he pulled up and he refuses to believe that could be so. Sighing, he cuts the engine and resigns to going inside and having that cup of coffee that he is apparently in desperate need of.

He’s walked a mere five feet when he begins to hear a loudly thumping baseline streaming some vehicles down from his black Tahoe. As he nears the building, he passes an attractive black woman adjusting her hair in a wide mirror in the trunk of her large purple Cadillac CTS, singing and dancing along to the techno beat. Warrick makes a mental note to get a better sound system in his own vehicle.

-+-

The coffee is cold and disgusting. Warrick searches in vain in the cabinets for some of Greg’s Good Stuff. He doesn’t remember what it’s really called, but he does remember thinking that that’s what coffee is supposed to feel like. Warm, rich, kind of like sucking the livelihood back into your soul.

Warrick doesn’t know when he started inventing cheesy slogans for other people’s coffee. He attributes it to the fact that he’s been sleeping less and less lately.

When Nick wanders into the break room and makes a new pot of coffee, Warrick knows Nick can tell that something’s wrong. Warrick knows he should put up a front, pretend everything is fine, but Warrick is sick of trying. But that does not mean that he’s going to just start talking about it. No, it means that Warrick shrugs when Nick asks if he’s alright.

Catherine and Sara enter at the same time, both drawn to the fresh coffee as if by invisible strings. Greetings are exchanged, and Warrick pretends he doesn’t feel Nick’s concerned stare.

Gil walks in, announcing assignments and handing papers to everyone. Warrick knows that this is routine. He just wishes his supervisor were a bit more personal sometimes.

Sara and Catherine walk out to start on their new assignment. Nick stays behind, most probably hoping to have a word with Warrick. Gil raises an eyebrow at the two of them, as if asking himself whether or not he really just handed them new assignments. He’s opening his mouth to speak when Greg rushes into the room, an apologetic smile on his lips.

“Sorry I’m late, boss.”

His supervisor ignores the apology and tells the youngest CSI to work with Nick on his B&E, giving all three men a look that says ‘get to work,’ before leaving.

“You’re working in the field now?” Warrick asks before Nick gets a chance to say anything.

“Yep,” Greg grins and Warrick can’t help but give a small smile back. “I found a new replacement in the Lab. A competent one, this time,” he grins, chuckling a little, but Warrick knows that he was not at all amused by the situation with the previous replacement.

“Hope so,” Warrick continues to smile, clapping Greg on the shoulder and leaving to work on his liquor store robbery.

-+-

When Warrick walks into the DNA lab later that night, he finds Greg talking to a woman in a white lab coat, the collar of her button up purple shirt peaking out. She’s the woman he’d seen in the parking lot earlier. Warrick is practiced in the art of reading people, and judging by the comfort level these two had with each other, he knows that they know each other much more than on a professional level. Instantly his interest spikes.

Greg is fiddling with some of the test tubes, mumbling some words about the samples that Warrick doesn’t really understand or care about.

The woman simply laughs and grabs Greg’s hands, stopping him. “Gregor, I taught you this. Calm down, I can handle it. I promise.”

The touch lasts too long. And Greg’s name is not Gregor. Warrick’s pretty sure it’s not even Gregory, just Greg. He clears his throat, drawing the attention of both people in the room.

“Warrick,” Greg smiles, and upon seeing this, the woman smiles too. “This is the new lab tech, Akilah Lynne. Akilah, Warrick Brown.”

Warrick likes the rhythm of her name, but the way it rolls off Greg’s tongue stirs a feeling in Warrick that he’s not entirely sure he’s ready to acknowledge. And where he would normally ask if the name was African, he instead swallows a frown and works to maintain his blank expression.

She smiles, reaching to shake Warrick’s hand. “You have pretty eyes,” she says, and Warrick gives a half smile, saying he’s glad to meet her.

He then hands her his samples from his crime scene, at which she raises an eyebrow.

“And I’m supposed to do what, exactly, with these?”

Greg’s voice is nearly a squeak when he begins to speak. “You’re supposed to-”

“Joke, Gregor.” She laughs slowly. “What are you so wound up about?” But the tone she asks it in implies she already knows, and is just teasing the nervous CSI about it.

Greg shrugs, laughing it off.

Warrick knows that if it had been any of his other coworkers, he would have pressed the issue. But it’s not, so he asks Akilah to page him when the results are in, and walks to Ballistics to talk to Bobby about his bullets.

-+-

Three weeks later, Warrick is not thinking about Greg’s relationship with the new lab tech. Nope. He also hasn’t been picking up information about them wherever he could find it.

He does however know that she’s currently living with him, and that they had lived together for a while when Greg was in San Francisco. He knows that they flirt shamelessly, which really is no different from Greg’s usual behavior, but for some reason it nags at his thoughts.

Warrick cannot deny that Akilah does her job quite well, or that he enjoys Greg being out in the field almost as much as Greg himself does. He also can’t deny that she’s a very attractive woman who has a very subtle seduction about her. But Akilah doesn’t bring in the Good Stuff. Akilah doesn’t even drink coffee. She drinks this weird tea stuff that tastes alright enough, but is nothing like Greg’s coffee. She gets along with most everyone, save for an encounter with Ecklie [honestly, it was the first Warrick heard of any kind of dress code].

To be honest, Warrick wants her to go back to San Francisco. But who’s he kidding? He hasn’t been honest with much of anyone as of late.

There’s an Atlanta vs. Oakland Game tomorrow afternoon and Greg hasn’t invited Warrick over. Come to think of it, Warrick hasn’t been to Greg’s house in over a month. Warrick’s been inviting himself over to Nick’s for all major games. Now that’s perplexing. Not only has there been a huge lapse in his friendship with Greg, but he hasn’t even noticed.

Well this simply won’t do. That’s why Warrick asks Greg to come over for the game as soon as the younger man walks into the locker room.

Greg gives a slightly confused frown, and Warrick thinks he knows why. He hasn’t invited Greg over to his apartment in nearly… wow. He doesn’t even know how long it’s been.

Still, Warrick acts natural when asking, “What?”

“No offense man,” Greg starts as he removes his shirt, “but your television sucks.”

Warrick rolls his eyes, changing his own shirt. Greg’s right, though. Tina took the good television in the divorce, and Warrick hasn’t bothered to purchase a new one, since he’s been watching all worthwhile sports events either at Nick’s or Greg’s. “Fine, your place then. I was just trying to be hospitable.”

“What? The game the Raiders are about to win?” Nick cuts in as he enters the room. Warrick’s too distracted to realize that Nick is trying to provoke him by insulting the Falcons.

Warrick nods slowly, wishing he could suck the words back into his mouth, but knowing that it’s too late; Nick is going to invite himself over. But then again it’s not like Warrick can say anything; he can’t count how many times he’s invited himself to join Nick and Greg on their plans. But Nick’s motives are different from his. At least he hopes so.

“What time is kick-off?” Nick asks.

“Three,” Warrick replies absently, knowing that Nick already knows that.

“I’ll be there.” He grins on his way out.

Warrick is in the middle of asking Greg if he should bring anything when Akilah saunters in, grooving to whatever is blaring in the white buds of her iPod. The fluid motion of her hips is slightly distracting, but he soon tears his gaze away and back to a slightly angry-looking Greg.

Shit.

“Nah,” he replies with an easy smile belied by the look in his eyes. “We’ve got everything at the house. See you.” He closes his locker and quickly takes leave, Akilah smiling at Warrick before she follows.

-+-

Warrick has 4 hours to kill. He stops at a diner for some breakfast, but that only subtracts half an hour from the total. Warrick is not searching his mind for reasons Greg could be mad at him. Not even a little.

Because he knows. Greg is in a very serious relationship with Akilah and is angry at Warrick for looking at his woman like that. But what right does Greg have to be angry, when he hasn’t even had the balls to tell Warrick that that is indeed his woman? Warrick did nothing wrong, in his book.

At least that’s what he’s trying to convince himself of as he forces himself to stop tossing and turning. He stills his body in a futile attempt to force himself asleep. When did it stop being easy to flop down into bed right at the end of a shift and sleep until it was time for the next one?

Suddenly it was back to thoughts of depression, Greg and Akilah, and Nick for some reason.

-+-

When his eyes open, Warrick is disoriented. On the second ring though, he realizes with a groan that someone decided to call him the very minute he fell asleep. “Brown,” he grumbles into the phone, not caring whether or not he offends the person at the end of the line.

“Hey man, where are you? Kick-off was ten minutes ago,” Nick’s concerned voice flows into his ear.

Warrick thinks that this is one of the dumbest jokes Nick’s tried to pull until he looks at his clock. “Shit. I’m on my way.”

“Are you sure you’re alright, ‘Rick?” And that’s when Warrick realizes Nick doesn’t give a shit about a Raiders game; he’s more worried about his friend.

“Yea. I’ll be over in a bit,” Warrick lies because really, there’s nothing else he can say to that.

-+-

Warrick brings beer, even though Greg said he didn’t need to bring anything. Greg doesn’t say anything about the beer or about his being half an hour late, simply smiling and letting him inside.

Nick doesn’t say anything either, grabbing a beer and comfortably watching the game. The Raiders are down by seven, and Warrick wishes he had put money on the game. Nick is in his usual spot, the single chair to the left of the couch. Warrick sits left of Greg on the couch, as usual. Greg gets up during halftime to do something or other, as usual.

Nick stares at the television, only glancing at Warrick for a second before watching the commercial as if it’s the most interesting thing he’s seen all day. “Warrick-”

“Nick,” Warrick cuts him off, because he doesn’t want to go this route. “I’m fine.”

That shuts Nick up, but does not make him feel better, and Warrick knows that.

“Look,” he softens his tone, “there’s a lot on my mind right now. I’m just trynna sort through it all.” It may be the most womanly moment he’s ever initiated, but it’s a necessary evil if he doesn’t want a fight with the only one who puts up with his crap. And he’s just not in the mood for that today.

And it’s the most honest thing he’s said to Nick in maybe two months. And Nick knows that. Nick probably knows more than he should, but Warrick isn’t too upset about it. After all, it’s Nick, and that’s nothing unusual.

When Greg comes back, he’s sitting just a little bit closer to Warrick. Not a noticeable difference, but Warrick notices. Warrick drapes his right arm over the back of the couch, not touching the other man or anything, just there. And it, too, is nothing unusual.

Akilah walks into the room sometime towards the end of the game, with a partially finished rainbow blanket. She sits on the smaller couch to the right of the one Greg and Warrick occupy and begins to work on it, and it’s not usual or routine, but it fits so Warrick doesn’t question it.

The game is nearing its end and Nick’s excitement is mounting in sync with the Raiders’ score. Warrick is yelling at the television and at Nick, not as into the game as he used to be, but much more alive than he’s been behaving recently. He doesn’t take the time to figure out why that’s so, because, really, this isn’t the place for that. This is the place for yelling and playful arguing and downing beer and touching Greg maybe a little bit more than he usually would.

Nick’s cell phone rings twenty seconds after the Raiders score the final touchdown of the game, right before his gloating can begin. Shortly after, Nick leaves for work, but not before Warrick makes some smart remark about missing out on the gloating.

Soon after, Warrick is challenged to some game on Greg’s Xbox… or perhaps Warrick challenged Greg. Whichever the case, they’re playing some football game, playfully arguing and nudging one another when a woman’s voice throws Warrick’s concentration completely off.

“You guys hungry?” It’s Akilah’s voice, of course, and Warrick has no idea why he was so surprised to hear it. Has she not spoken since she walked into the room half an hour ago? And why’s she sounding more like a loving mother as opposed to a serious girlfriend?

“For what?” Greg asks, taking advantage of the distraction and tackling Warrick’s pixelated character.

“I’m in the mood for Chinese.”

“K.” Greg scores the last touchdown and throws his controller down, grinning at Warrick’s claims that he cheated. Warrick is amused that this charmingly annoying grin and a few remarks will be the extent of his gloating. “Order In or go out?”

Warrick raises an eyebrow. “You’re asking me?”

Akilah nods, “Guest’s choice.”

Greg smirks. “The word guest implying someone invited over that actually plans to leave.”

“Which is why I never get to pick,” Akilah laughs.

Warrick cracks a small smile, not really amused. “Uhm, here’s fine?” He’s not all that comfortable making decisions in someone else’s house.

Akilah grins, “My kinda man.”

-+-

Warrick isn’t sure what to think about what happened that day, so he tries not to think about it. Even still, he often finds himself running the evening over in his mind, searching for evidence that Akilah and Greg are anything more than friends. All they did was order in the Chinese food and watch some ridiculously overrated action film, mocking it the entire way through. Warrick enjoyed their company that day, easily sinking into the casual domesticity that suggested they’d known each other their entire lives. Akilah had had to work that night, and it was when she left that Warrick realized how long he’d been there. He’d been invited over for a game, and, not wanting to overstay his welcome, he made some excuse about sleeping, although he doubted he’d be getting any. Greg seemed a little disappointed but quickly hid it behind an easy smile. The disappointment wasn’t nearly as disconcerting as the fact that Greg tried to hide it and Warrick was led to wonder just how much emotion Greg truly masks around Warrick.

Unfortunately for Warrick, he was called in to work on a hot case only minutes after he left Greg’s house. But perhaps it wasn’t so unfortunate, as it gave him something to think about other than his noticeably lifted spirits. Plus, he was working with Sara on that particular case, so there was truly no way to get sidetracked by the confusion caused by Greg and his best friend.

-+-

A few days later, Warrick’s not even thinking about Greg or Akilah. On the contrary, Warrick can’t get his head around his current case.

Usually it’s not an issue for him to leave his personal responses to a case at home. But he saw himself in the cold dead glittered form on the metal slab of the morgue. This was even before he’d known the circumstances, that this had been an openly gay black man trying to make it in the straight man’s world. Warrick has never personally been an openly gay man, but that’s him on that slab when he closes his eyes. Which means even less sleep for Warrick.

Usually Warrick’s not one to assume a killing to be a hate crime. He doesn’t always assume that every dead black man was killed by an angry white guy. But Warrick knows. Call it a gut feeling, call it paranoia. Warrick knows that Dorian Wilson’s death and sexuality are related.

Trying not to let his co-workers see how much this case is affecting him is hard. He tries to keep his poker face steady but he’s also all too aware that sometimes his composure slips. Because, to be honest, this case is taking him to all types of extremes outside his comfort zone. And that definitely includes coming back to the last place Dorian was seen, a gay club, while the place is open.

Yes, gay club. As in, hot sweaty gay men rubbing against each other to the beat of the music. As in, men holding hands and kissing. As in, mostly naked men dancing on platforms with money tucked into their bits of clothing. As in, men dressed as women parading around as if truly royalty. As in, almost frighteningly forward men hitting on both Nick and Warrick as they follow Catherine to the bar. No, Warrick is definitely not in his comfort zone. And he’s going to swing on the next overly eager tweaked out kid to grope him.

He leaves the questioning to Cath, scanning the club for anything suspicious, more out of habit than anything else. When he’s finally got himself detached from his surroundings, he hears several cheers in the dancing crowd as the ticking of a clock begins to emit from the sound speakers.

Time goes by, so slowly.
Time goes by, so slowly…

Warrick idly recognizes this as one of the many songs he’s found Akilah singing and dancing along to in the lab. The song slides into a much louder beat and Warrick spies two figures climbing up onto one of the farther platforms of the club. They’re two random people, a black girl and a white guy, but something about the woman’s dancing is familiar, and keeps his eye. And that’s when he notices the guy. That hair…

That smile…

That’s Greg.

As in, Greg Sanders. And that’s when the girl, who Warrick now realizes is Akilah, climbs down and another guy climbs up to take her place. This boy is wearing a black pleated miniskirt with matching knee-high socks and black shoes, no shirt. And that’s not dancing. That is grinding. That is sex with clothes on.

Warrick frowns, dismayed. He’s not sure what is dismaying him more, the acts he’s witnessing, or the expression on his face he can’t seem to get rid of. But worst of all is the fact that the two CSIs he’s with will soon see this expression and follow his shocked eyes to the fluidly moving form of their coworker. But he can’t seem to tear his gaze away, or even move, really. And he’s trying, really he is, but it’s too late when he sees Akilah directing Greg’s attention to Warrick and Catherine and Nick, who are also watching now.

And it’s as if Greg had never learned to smile, what with the expression on his face as he meets Warrick’s gaze. Warrick will never forget the forlorn look in Greg’s eyes as he and his friend climb down from the platform and all three disappear from Warrick’s view, the shock and dismay keeping him glued to his spot and too dumbstruck to get to them before they leave. But he supposes that’s okay, as he has no idea what he’d say to them had he actually stopped them.

“So Greg’s a fag, huh?”

It’s not necessarily a question and it’s not necessarily directed at Warrick, but it pulls him from his trance alright. Cath wears a disgusted expression on her face, and he’s not sure whether it pertains to Greg’s actions or Nick’s comment.

Warrick frowns. He’s not in the mood for this right now. “Yea, not everyone is as deep in the closet as you.”

The drive back to the lab is filled with awkward silence, and Warrick’s still not sure if it’s because Greg just got outted or because Nick’s being a dick about it. Either way, they’re out of leads and Cath sends both of them home until further notice, perhaps as much to cool off the tension between her two partners as to get some rest from their 24-hour shift of dead ends.

But Warrick will not sleep and he knows that. Perhaps Nick knows it as well, but he’s not speaking to Nick and Nick definitely knows it’s best to just wait out the anger.

Warrick simply drives, not even attempting to lie to himself as to where he’s headed. The fact of the matter is that, no matter where he decides to go, he’ll end up here.

He hears arguing before he rings the bell, and the door is thrown open by a very stressed out and angry Greg only seconds later.

“What?” he barks, and after a second realizes that it is indeed Warrick standing on the front porch. His demeanor deflates considerably and he simply steps away, leaving the door open and walking upstairs without saying another word.

A frustrated Akilah narrows her eyes dangerously as she lowly states, “I’m trying to convince Greg not to leave Vegas and go running back to San Francisco. So if you don’t have anything nice to say, leave.”

Warrick doesn’t answer to such an attitude more than he has to, and while he’s glad that Greg has someone that protective of him, he closes the door behind him and walks past her to follow the reason he came here.

Greg is packing. Or, he had been packing, as implied by the clothes and other items haphazardly tossed into three suitcases sitting atop his bed. Currently, Greg’s standing in the center of the room, staring distractedly at the deep blue carpeted floor.

Warrick doesn’t bother to open his mouth because really, he has nothing to say. He just stands in the doorway, waiting for Greg to speak.

“Go ahead.” His voice is tense and it’s obvious that he’s bracing himself for some sort of attack, although Warrick’s not sure whether Greg expects a verbal or physical attack.

But Warrick’s not going to attack him. And he says nothing.

“Go ahead,” Greg repeats, louder, facing the other man this time.

“What is it you’re expecting of me, Greg?” Warrick’s tiredness falls upon him at that moment, and suddenly it occurs to him just how long he’s been awake. Not to mention his own calmness is reminding him way too much of Grissom.

“Call me a faggot, kick my ass, tell me to leave Vegas, something.” Greg’s voice goes up a few octaves as he says this.

Warrick’s not even sure what to say to that, somehow caught off-guard by Greg’s hostility. “Is that the kind of person you think I am?” He tries to ask evenly, but fails. He knows Greg’s just upset, but seriously, Warrick can only take so much of this attitude without getting a little pissed off. So much for Grissom-like calmness.

“Oh please.” Greg smirks grimly. “Everyone at the lab knows how bad your temper is.”

“What the fuck does that have to do with anything?” Warrick’s voice is the one raising now, and he’s just angry enough not to care that he just proved Greg’s previous statement correct.

Greg makes a scoffing sound that is meant to be an angry noise but really just comes out cute. Warrick hates arguing with cute people because they tend to do cute things that distract him from his anger.

But that’s what reminds him how stupid this is in the first place. They’re arguing why again? Because Greg was at a gay club grinding on some guy and Warrick’s not disgusted. Oh yes, that makes perfect sense.

Greg’s about to say something else that will no doubt provoke Warrick into saying something he regrets, so Warrick stops him, grabbing his wrists.

“Newsflash, Greg. I grew up in Vegas. You know, ‘Sin City?’ You being gay is hardly the most shocking thing I’ve ever heard. Hell, on this job, you know that.” His voice isn’t nearly as calm as it should be, and much rougher sounding than he intends, but what’s done is done.

“Bullshit.” Greg tries, and fails, to jerk his arms out of Warrick’s grasp. “You think I’m blind? Think I couldn’t see the disgust on your face? The look in your eyes?”

Greg’s voice cracks mid-sentence and Warrick’s never seen this raw, angry side of him. Warrick’s words are heard before he even thinks them when he says, “If I’m so disgusted by you, why the hell am I here?” Still, his voice is rough and he’s a little pissed at Greg but more than that, he wants to hold Greg.

It’s not the first time he’s wanted to do this, no. But it’s shocking, the strongest urge to protect Greg and make his pain go away. Greg’s no child, and Warrick’s no soppy romantic, but in this moment, neither of those facts is relevant. What matters now is Greg’s pulse underneath Warrick’s fingers. And the look in Greg’s eyes as he battles demons Warrick can’t even imagine. And the way Greg’s breath hitches just a little as Warrick unconsciously wets his dry lips.

Greg wants to kiss Warrick, has for a long time, and never has that fact been this clear before. “Why don’t you?” It’s very nearly a whisper.

Greg doesn’t ask what Warrick is talking about, instead he leans in. Close, so close that Warrick closes his eyes because he will not cry. Warrick hasn’t cried in over 3 years, the last time he was this vulnerable. He’d sworn to never put himself in this position again, and also to never, ever cry again. But the warmth of Greg being so close to him, the sound of Greg’s breathing, the soft hush of it against Warrick’s face… all are strong forces working against him. So, so close. They’re breathing the same air now and Warrick feels the air from Greg’s mouth as he parts his lips…

“Let go.”

It’s not even loud enough to be heard, really heard, anyway. But it’s enough. Enough to let Warrick know that this was a mistake. Enough for Warrick to think that maybe going home and taking some pills and trying to sleep would have been a better option. Enough for Warrick to let go of Greg’s wrists and back away and out of the room without opening his eyes, without letting Greg see tears that he refused to let fall. Warrick is down the stairs and nearly out the door when he hears a voice asking him not to leave.

It’s not a voice he recognizes and his curiosity beats his emotions as he turns to the source. Shirtless miniskirt boy is standing in the living room, now wearing a long-sleeved black shirt and baggy black pants, and Akilah is seated on the couch near him. Warrick’s face is probably expressing his confusion and anger, because the boy quickly follows with, “Billy, and I’m a friend of Gregorio’s.” Gregorio? The man’s name grew another syllable every time Warrick turned around. “A good enough friend to know that whatever he said to send you running out of here this fast is complete crap.”

Warrick wants to roll his eyes, because in his experience, nosy best friends never really know what’s going on. But the fact that this complete stranger is so seemingly aware of who Warrick is and what he’s doing here makes him hesitant to write this all off as a mistake. Quickly he assesses the situation, weighing his options and knowing that he’s far too proud to walk back up those stairs and try to figure out what it is Greg really wants from him.

Warrick wants to shake this off, wants to get drunk in a sports bar, wants to go gamble, wants to do anything easier than this, and he’s shaking his head sadly, turning back in the direction of the front door when he hears possibly one of the most irritated sighs he’s ever heard. He turns to see Akilah getting up from her seat and glaring at him once more, but somehow it’s different this time. “You move from that spot, I will hunt you down.”

He’s not one for following warnings such as this, but he honestly does want to see what is about to occur.

She’s up the stairs in seconds and Warrick can hear her yelling clearly. “Gregor Danielsøn Hojem Sanders, you will go down there and at the very least tell your guest a viable lie. But I would prefer it if you’d just be honest for once. I did not pick up my whole life and leave my dream city to come out here, fall in love with damn near everything to just move back when the inevitable happened! No. You’re gonna go downstairs and at least try to deal with the reality of being what you are for once.” The rest Warrick can’t hear quite as clearly, but leaving now is the farthest thing from his mind.

When Greg finally appears he doesn’t look at Warrick. In fact, he acts as though he’s not even standing there, going in the kitchen instead.

Warrick doesn’t want to follow, but greater than that is his desire to talk to Greg. He doesn’t know what to say, what to think, but he knows that standing here will solve nothing, and leaving will solve even less. Greg’s making a pot of coffee, and saying nothing. Warrick sits at the table. He’s getting a headache.

Greg offers him a cup, but Warrick will have enough trouble trying to sleep without the forces of caffeine working against him.

“Well.” Warrick stands after a few minute, hoping to save some of his dignity. “As much fun as it is to watch you sip coffee out of a mug, I’m just gonna go. Bye Greg.”

And he’s halfway out of the kitchen when he hears, “Don’t go.”

The look in Greg’s eyes tells Warrick that this isn’t easy for him. In truth, it’s not too easy for Warrick either, and he’s just not in the mood to play games. Not with what is clearly turning into a demon of a migraine edging into his consciousness. “Look, Greg. I’m sorry you got outted. I’m sorry I have no idea what’s in your head and I’m sorry just talking to me seems to be so hard for you.” Warrick’s never said sorry this many times to one person in his life. “But I love you.”

And wow. He had really not planned on saying that quite so suddenly, and obviously Greg hadn’t seen it coming either. Good. He likes to keep people on their toes.

“And a lot of things aren’t making too much sense right now, but I know that you feel something for me, whether or not you’re going to acknowledge or admit it. I have no idea what you’re thinking right now and I get the feeling you don’t want me to. And I don’t know what kind of relationship you have going on with miniskirt boy in there,” his name is Billy, and Warrick knows that, but he will always be miniskirt boy to him. “And I don’t know why I’m still here or why I’m still talking but you can’t seem to find the words to say and my presence only seems to agitate you.” Warrick has moved much closer to Greg now, close enough to pull him even closer and that’s exactly what he does. He’s never been much of an awkward person, so taking control of this situation is easy for him. “But that’s fine. You don’t need to speak or be comfortable around me.” His voice has lowered considerably, nearly a growl. “Just…” Warrick kisses Greg’s lips slowly and softly, pulling away quickly and walking to the doorway of the kitchen. “Think about it.”

And Warrick’s out the door, confident swagger returned with full force and a grin upon his lips.

+

and yes, there will be more.

chaiiiiiiii

vanchizzle@yahoo.com — Mon, 18 Dec 2006 05:45:33 GMT

1. I've come to realize that my family... is a place i will never quite feel i belong

2. I am listening to... the stupid nissan commercial

3. I talk... more to people i actually know. otherwise i'm rather shy... well quiet anyway.

4. I love... masturbation!

5. My best friend... feels very far away and things are only going downhill from here.

6. My first kiss was... awkward and rushed, but i was so happy when it happened.

7. I lost my virginity... and then i woke up and fell out of my bed.

8. I hate it when people... assume they know shit.

9. Love is... evil.

10. Marriage is... just like everything else in life, good for some, bad for others.

11. Somewhere, someone is thinking... damn tracie's sexy.

12. I'll always... be an emotional mess.

13. I have a secret crush on... no one.. none of my crushes are secret.

14. The last time I cried was because... i'm an emotional reck.

15. My cell phone... has been dropped more times than i can count.

16. When I wake up in the morning... i wish i was still asleep.

17. Before I go to sleep at night... i pretend i'm not alone.

18. Right now I am thinking about... chocolate whipped cream! best thing ever.

19. Babies are... cuteish

20. I get on myspace... daily.

21. Today I... spent time with muh billeh.

22. Tonight I will... watch more csi and work on my beautiful blanket.

23. Tomorrow I will... read, paint, masturbate, eat noodles. maybe hang out with louis.

24. I really want... to sleep in his arms again

25. The person who most likely to repost this is... nonexistant, beign that pretty much everyone and their mothers have already done it.

you make me wanna do something i never do

vanchizzle@yahoo.com — Sat, 02 Dec 2006 09:19:57 GMT

i tell people that i don't drink because it's not for me

because of the hangover
because i don't need it
because i don't want to

but i don't want to turn into an asshole. people do that when they get hooked on things. and they start doing it all the time to escape from reality. the reality that is half the time brought on by their addiction in the first place.

i don't want to be one of those people tellign stories about how they got lost driving cuz they were drunk.
i don't want to wake up one morning liek what the fuck happened last night.
and i don't want my kids to not know whether or not i'm going to hurt them. i don't want my kids to think that i'm a danger, that they need to keep sharp things in their room just in case i've had one too many and suddenly stupid shit is going to set me off. i don't want them to feel helpless and afraid in the middle of the night.

i was sitting here writing and heard the front door slam and my dad trippin over shit in the kitchen. mom's asking why he slammed the door, was he trying to wake up the whole house, he repeats 12 times that it wasn't on purpose, trying to pick a fight. she's layign on the couch, and i go back into my room because i don't want to be there. then mom calls for me and i go in there and he's laying on top of her, like holding her in place.

and i'm afraid, so afraid that i'm gonna have to hurt him, afraid that whatever i do won't be enough, and she's calling me and he's looking at me like go away and i tell him to go to bed, or take a shower because i should not be able to smell beer from 3 feet away. and mom's telling him to stop trying to cop a feel and he's saying things i can't quite hear [but he keeps repeating that he's changed his mind] and i take his hat and lightly hit him, to get his attention and tell him to go to bed and mom's acting like this isn't a situation and i don't know whether they're playing around like they used to, or if i need to knock him off the couch or pour her wine on him to get his attention and at least get him off of her

and he leans down and it looks liek he's kissing her neck and she's telling himt o stop and i'm hitting him harder now and holding the glass of wine wondering whether it would be better to just break the glass and cut him. and he starts tellign me to go away and my instinct, having followed his orders for my whle life wants to leave but i can't leave mama because she tells me not to go anywhere and he tells me to leave and he starts yellign at me to leave and that if i don't move he's gonna get up and kick my ass and she's telling him he'd better not and she tells me to stand in the hall and wait but i'm scared and he's yelling to go in my room and close the door and mom says to just go. and i tell him i have a knife as i leave.

but he's in his room now and she's still on the couch so i guess it's handled, and maybe i'm being dramatic and i know this was probably hard to read/understand, but i don't want to feel this way. i have never felt afraid of my father in quite this way before. i've never felt like i need to stab him, never felt like anythign important was at stake, never been shaking in my room after na encounter with him. and i'm not naive enough to think that this is a one-time thing. i don't know much about these situations, but i don't feel like this will end well and this is the place i'm supposed to live in. and whenever i'm in long beach, i'm supposed to sleep here.

i really want to leave.

36 days. louis, billy, brandon, john, krystelle, cami? you are all i will miss.

//edit: got the dorm..

vanchizzle@yahoo.com — Fri, 01 Dec 2006 09:37:40 GMT

that was soooo much fun. ^_^

jump

vanchizzle@yahoo.com — Wed, 29 Nov 2006 06:25:02 GMT

there's only so much you can learn in one place.
the more that i wait, the more time that i waste.

40 days.

a chunk of you have been cut.

vanchizzle@yahoo.com — Tue, 28 Nov 2006 01:52:12 GMT

oh yes, the time has come for
__swoosh, _attolia, _brokenrecord_, alice_in_wland, antipink06, ashley_alicia, b0_jangl3s, bbgals, black_panters, breathenomore06, c_boddington, chemist_ink, clouded_reasons, depressedchic, doompaw, duckyy, echos_remain, fallingtodecay, forever_linkin, forgets, forstbergs_13, gayboi6969, geografica, glitteranddust, gqp_rbw4life, gummibear_queen, harmless_poison, hmaddox1, homercles, hphilalexandros, imaginecookies, imitateanddie, kenz1234567, kiwialicat, kodachi148, krylonblue24, la_little_gurl, liltwister009, lp_leto, lpkenjichazbabe, lpteenz, missmichelle89, morbrid_faith, nahmster, nakedtwinkies, partyscene, poison_in_you, punkychick969, riddlemethis_lp, rockstarglam, sebastizzle, shattered_echos, slicepaprwristz, spit_liquor, tia3004, unissa, vixenla, wasted___years, wviper4932, xb_2x, xnobodyxcaresx and xxxchiwi to be removed.

if you've been cut,
it was for one or more of the following reasons:

1. we don't talk
2. we have nothing in common
3. you haven't commented in my journal in over 6 months
4. you haven't updated in over 6 months
5. i have no idea who you are
6. i don't like you
7. you're a writing journal i never read

if you feel you've been wrongly cut,
speak up. we'll discuss it.
otherwise, please remove me from your friendslist.
thank you.

vanchizzle@yahoo.com — Fri, 17 Nov 2006 20:52:45 GMT

queenofthorns posted this Awesome Love Meme. here are the rules:

How To Play:

1) Comment with your username.

2) Go back to your own LJ and post the link to your comment because otherwise, no one will know to come fawn over you if you don't tell them about it!

3) Your friends will leave ANONYMOUS comments to your comment about all the many reasons that you are WONDERFUL, and then they will comment with THEIR usernames and go post the link to THEIR comments and it will be a giant big snowball of love.

4) We will all feel WARM and FUZZY and excited about the KINDNESS OF STRANGERS! YAY!!!

my link is here. answer mine, then post this in your own lj, spread the love!

love should last forever baby..

vanchizzle@yahoo.com — Thu, 16 Nov 2006 09:54:03 GMT

so paco and nique drove into town this past weekend, and it was fabulous. when paco and john saw each other again [for the first time in 3 or 4 months? not sure], it was the sweetest thing ever. it was almost liek everything was going in slow motion as they walked towards each other. they hugged and exchanged whispered words for a few minutes, and when finally they broke apart, i could see tears shining under the streetlights. it was a very sweet moment, and i'm so happy for both of them. i only hope that one day i find that. that mutual just... love. where it's right and real. they inspire me. ♥

saturday was our gathering, which is basically just a bunch of people, my house, pancakes and/or cupcakes, dancing, tv, movies, and my computer [which was broken this time, much to d'art's dismay]. it was oodles of fun, complete with boi love, john obsessing over pancakes, billy moments, fiona being adorable, fake orgasms, spanking john with chris's belt, chris giving a fantastic lapdance, and dancing. we watched the first season of noah's arc, which was awesome because i love that show.

of course the best part was when we were all dancing in my living room to "Snap Your Fingers" and my parents and aunt and uncle walked in. The aunt and uncle are conservative stuffed-shirts, born and raised. so imagine their dismay at paco and john making out on the couch, everyone backing that ass up and even a little dropping like it's hot. they were so shell-shocked, especially when mom joined in. It was hilarious, they sat in the kitchen, peering at us through the fake plant that was sitting there. my aunt even took off her glasses, rubbing her eyes to make sure that she was really seeing this craziness. dad even joined in at one point, although he wasn't snapping his fingers. he's like "i don't go with the green" or some shit liek that. i love his little 70s slipups. they're awesome. my mom even told the relatives that i'm bi, of her own volition. it was just a crazy night.

and of course i have

brandon in my wig lmao.

while the pancake making was going on.

i have never faked so many orgasms in one day.

krys in my wig lmao.

krystelle's ass.

paco and john of course.

me and me very redheaded billy

d'art and gabby

john and fiona, i swear they're the same age.

fiona, and me in the background dancing.

chris and gabbz

and yes, billy is wearing my skirt. and yes, that is whole milk he's drinking, lmao.
and i am very gangster in my apron.

it wouldn't be right if i didn't have one of this.

teenagers scare the living shit out of me

vanchizzle@yahoo.com — Tue, 31 Oct 2006 07:42:38 GMT

not your soldier