Peach Cocaine

Joey had to figure out who this Oliver Sykes is. What makes him so much more special then Joey Anderson Young from Sioux Falls, South Dakota?

The guy is super skinny, which really made him want to vomit, and covered in tattoos making the dude look like a thug. How the hell did anyone find him attractive was Joey’s dilemma; let alone Casey Wolton, who, from what he had been told, used to be attracted to guys of his type.

During the entire drive to Backwater he couldn’t come up with a single reason.

Joey knows that he’s too perfect for someone like Casey to appreciate and realize the magnificence of. As much as he wished she did, he’s the one chick he hasn’t been able to ‘get it on with‘. But in any case, if he could find something that is wrong with Oliver Scott Sykes ( yes, he did some research and feels highly like a creeper ) then maybe, just maybe, Casey will change her mind and be with him.

Though, he also found out Oliver had been to rehab and was addicted to cocaine. Which made Joey a bit crest-fallen on his chances with Casey, because if she is willing to accept him for his past bullshit then why would she give up on him now?

Joey coughed obnoxiously as two girls slid past him to go inside Backwater. One flipped him off, muttering “fucking tool” under her breath while the other laughed loudly, keeping her eyes strictly on her friend. He followed a few paces behind, suddenly feeling self-conscious about how he looked. A majority of the guys here either have tight pants, long hair, piercing everywhere, tattoos, or all of the above.

While he stuck out like a sore thumb with his constricting white Hollister shirt, ( oh and did he mention that there was a lot of black being worn, everywhere? ) his hair is short, spikey and crusted with jell, blue jeans loose and his tan makes him appear orange amongst all the pale skin.

Bring Me the Horizon is up next Joey had heard someone say casually while he’d sauntered his way up to the bar.

Chug, chug, chug. He downed drink after drink, and after what seemed like he’d filled himself with at least a keg and a half of beer, Joey stumbled his way over to the crowd. His vision blurred as he stared angrily up at the skinny figure on stage thrashing about, screaming words Joey couldn’t even comprehend. He flung his fist into some guy’s face which set off a flurry of flying limbs. Knuckles bit sharply into his cheek, like pointed teeth and before he could gather himself a knee bashed itself into the back of his skull.

His brain felt like it was a rattling cage filled with birds trying to flee. Joey’s arms fluttered about as he attempted to balance himself, wobbling wearily out of the crowd of people, and stumbling haphazardly to a table.

To drown out the pain, Joey seized more alcohol. The rest of the night was a blur before he managed his way home and passed out on the couch.