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Can I Hold Your Heart?

Prologue

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The moon was shining brightly in this beautiful fall night. My head pounded as I tightly grasped my throat. It was a no-brainer that I easily knew that something was wrong. I turned to front on my bed, squinting as the moonlight burned down my vision. Below, my elder cousin, Alena was deeply sound asleep floating in her perfect dreamland. Everyone, please vote for TAI for the MTV Awards. Her voice was gentle, mumbling out the words in perfect tone. She moves to the side with her face in a bright smile both sincere and pure.

How I wish I was now too.

It took me awhile to gather enough strength to step down from my bed. I hunched down and started patting Alena’s shoulder. She didn’t respond and must not have felt it so I decided to speed it up quickly. “Alena?” My voice was hushed; it was all that I could manage. “Alena, wake-up!” My throat burned to a deep painful sensation. Instinctively, my hand grabbed onto it like a spear that was ready to be released. I took a deep breath. By now, there was something deeply pulsing within my throat.

Finally, after awhile, Alena looked back to me with the worse reaction I could’ve possibly received. “Hmm?” She mumbled out like a drunkard on a beer post – puking. If I wasn’t so insistent on waking her up, I would’ve gathered enough of the energy I used to pat her on the shoulder and just walked downstairs to find Schneider. Argh.

“I don’t feel so good.” I said directly. “There’s something wrong with my throat.” Now, I could feel blood seeping through my veins – a tight spun on my ignorant throat check-ups. There was this weird feeling that made me cough out loud, each painful and coarse. During intervals, I could feel pierce-like sensations that burned down deeply. It felt itchy, but then it combusted like a huge fire that remained inside the barriers of my throat.

Only for me to feel alone inside.

I want this feeling to be over right now. “What’s wrong?” She immediately stood-up from her bed, alarmed. Alena shook me like I’ve done something impenetrably wrong. “Are you okay?” There was no point in hiding the truth no longer. I can never hide such a thing.

All seemed too impossible as I struggled to remain calm.

But fate always had a way of getting ahead of me. In only half a second, I began to start coughing vigorously. Each second became a struggle for breath as I held on tightly at Alena’s hands. Her face, I can barely see with all the fuzziness surrounding me. My attempts of thinking positively have all gone wasted. Breathing became a tough job of acquisition with each being short and abrupt. And then all that happened next – not that I was keeping count – Alena began screaming. I felt thick liquid burn thoroughly on my pajamas as I inhaled all that I can. I was coughing out blood.

And just before anything came in to place, I closed my eyes. I don’t want to die. Not now, please God.

“Someone get an ambulance quick!” I heard Alena say.

Would anyone believe me if I said that I wasn’t ready to die even if I knew that this would happen years ago?

***

“Panic At The Disco?” I asked Alena as my finger trickled over the rest of Reverie Record’s band album collection. In only just a matter of a few weeks being in the company, Alena has already accomplished more than Kurt will ever have in an entirety. Not that I’m saying that the only uncle I’ve ever known is ALL that bad as what the tabloids call him. At least Alena has signed new bands in, collectively progressed stocks by 15% and even has a reputation for being a management genius. “You sign people with top-hats and odd costumes?”

It was only fall but I immediately felt that it was winter. The cold air-conditioned air swept across the room, making me snug onto my jacket even closer. From the topmost floor, I could see the blazing lights beaming from every corner of the street, lively brightening everyone’s spirits. Outside, a series of people were seen strolling. Mostly, of course, there were couples walking with their hands clasped tightly together – as if they were never letting go. The fuzzy feeling I felt inside made me insensitive. Not in my 17 years of life have I ever experienced such a thing.

Alena shot me a look. Her eyebrows arched to a tight look, and her lips pouted. “Hey!” She countered bitterly. “They’re really good y’know.”

“I bet they are.” I forced a chuckle as I opened Panic At The Disco’s A Fever You Can’t Sweat Out curiously. Their songs had weird titles such as ‘Camisado’ to ‘Build God Then We’ll Talk’. To be honest, I’ve stopped keeping up with the different mainstream tracks since I started making my own music. The only time I get to listen to these types of music are whenever Alena gives me a CD to critic.

As I reached the end of the booklet, a picture of four boys in a picture frame took my sight. I placed the booklet even closer to my eyes. Amidst the boldly maroon background, images of four young boys probably my age were plastered up front. Their faces seemed all so dull. I shrugged.

But there was this one boy that caught my eye – the boy carrying a black parasol to the left. My eyes were set on him almost like a strong pull that pushed me closer. Like something magical was about to happen between the two of us, in the sort of a poignant stare.

“Woah!” Alena snatched the CD away from my grasp. In shock, I bounced strongly to my back, falling down on my chair like an idiot. “Whatcha lookin’ there?”

Oh, Lena. “Nothing,” I said as I stood up.

Then, I noticed Alena’s eyes gaze towards me. Her mouth was in a form of a smirk, hiding something intense at the back of her head. “So who?” She asked me, reverting towards the album booklet. “Who caught your eyes this time, Louise?”

I hate being called Louise. Stupid Dad, thanks for giving me two names when all I really needed was one. Georgina is a Latin name for 'farmer's daughter'. Even though anyone would mistake my name for something like royalty, it's roots are actually simple. “No one special,” I scoffed, trying to sound casual.

Alena surveyed me for awhile as I returned an even lesser appeal on my face. She looked once more at the picture surrounded by the maroon background, trying to convince me that there was really something special about this boy. The boy holding a parasol.

“I know who you were looking at.” She grinned cheekily, flashing the picture in front of me. “I just have a feeling that this person, the boy you were looking, is the perfect dude for some antisocial muck like you!” Her cheeks flushed to a bright red, giving way to her smile.

“Okay,” I said. “You win. Who’s the unlucky bachelor?”

Alena rushed over and gave me a big hug. The ones she would always give me after 6 months of having no communication whatsoever. I remember that each and every time I’d see her, Alena would always get unfairly beautiful. It was insane. “He’s this one, isn’t he?” She pointed over exactly at the boy with the parasol. Missed shot, I thought. “You like this guy with the umbrella, right?”

It’s a parasol I thought. But then again, what IS the difference? I guess I should really stop saying (or even thinking) all these things. “Yes,” I lied, almost sounding sarcastically. “You, my dearest cousin, have just caught me off guard.”

“I knew it!” She said in a loud secretive voice. Of course Alena had the right to beam off me like this. After all, the two of us have sworn that we will always tell each other our secrets and remain together forever. “I’ve always thought that you and Brendon were perfect.”

I nearly coughed out loud. “Who?”

“Brendon Urie, of course,”
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