Sharing Pillows and Cold Feet

I hate him. With all my guts. I hate John Cornelius O'Callaghan. He's nothing but a fucking douche bag who never thinks of anyone but himself. He deserves to rot in hell. He deserves to die a lonely old man. I hope his songs start playing in elevators.

I hope he grows old and has a deflated dick. I hope he dies alone. I hope no one ever loves him. Even if they do, no one can love him as much as I did.

I crossed my arms, lifting my chin up. Just act mature, don't loose your senses. He can smell fear from a mile away. I narrowed my eyes in on John's lanky form, his arm draped around a skinny bronze girl.

Bitch.

Don't look at him, don't even think about him. He doesn't deserve even that much. I couldn't help but walk a little sharper as I passed by his merch tent, as I caught his eye. I didn't pause or peek a look back, I didn't want to give him the satisfaction.

I walked a little farther, stepping under All Time Low's merch tent. I guzzled down the rest of my water and sighed, let's get this started.

I glanced up, locking eyes with Alex Gaskarth. A smirk began tugging at the corner of his lips as he promptly sat up, catching most of everyone's attention. He bent his finger, beckoning me closer. A crooked grin crawled onto my face as I bent down, locking lips with him.

"Eric," He breathed out, gripping my hips. "What can I do for a handsome fella, like yourself?"

"A lot," I smiled coyly, wrapping my finger around a lock of hair. "That's if, you're willing to offer."

"When am I not?" He chuckled, sitting up straighter. "Do share though, please."

I licked my lips and glanced back, catching John's wounded gaze. I smirked knowingly and turned towards Alex, drumming my fingers on the table.

"I've got a," I paused, tapping my chin. "A proposition for you."

He pursed his lips, "I'm listening.."

"You know how I walked in on John..."

____

Two Months.

That's how long me and Alex have been dating. And to top it off, John hasn't made a single move to even attempt to talk to me! Fuck.

"Maybe he just wants to be friends," Rian offered, shrugging. "Don't ask me, I don't read 'How to win your secretly gay best friend's heart' for dummies."

"Fuck off." I muttered, tugging on my hair. "Why hasn't it worked yet? Does he not see? Is he fucking blind? Has he found someone else?"

I couldn't help but feel as if I was asking myself these questions. I sighed and ran a distressed hand through my hair. Am I not good enough? Am I ugly? Too skinny? Weird face? Eyes? Anything?

Maybe he doesn't love me. Maybe I'm nothing but a boy to him. Maybe I've been living a lie my whole life. He probably doesn't care. I wouldn't bet that he already has a new boy in his life. He probably hasn't even gave me a second thought.

"You can't wallow in your misery.." Zack sighed, clasping his hand onto my shoulder. "You need to live a little. Go talk to the fans, become your chipper mellow self again. The old you. I'm actually starting to miss him."

"He died." I muttered, "Along with my heart. I have nobody. He doesn't love me, I'm just going to go lay back down and-"

"Stop acting like an emo chick!" He snapped, slapping my shoulder. "The whole dating Alex plan isn't helping your situation. He thinks your off the market. He doesn't know your playing him right now."

I scoffed, "He's had many chances to talk to me. Alex surely isn't stopping him."

"Maybe," Zack shrugged. "Maybe not. You may never know."

I later found myself debating this, over and over. Maybe Zack is right. I might should 'break it off' with Alex. Things might go a little smoother and maybe if I'm lucky, John will take me back!

I sound so desperate.

____

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Kennedy abruptly growled, shoving me aside. "Wasn't it clear enough, we don't want you here!"

"I-I'm sorry!" I stammered, "I just- I need to see him."

His gaze softened before he sighed, shaking his head once. "That's not a good plan, he needs time. He's been spitting out songs left and right. Nothing's going to get him to stop. Nothing."

"If you let me-"

"He would loose it," Kennedy interjected, hands raised, "I don't trust it. I respect your motives, really. Not now, maybe later or something."

"Kennedy, please!" I pleaded.

"I said no and I mean-"

"What the fuck is going on?" His voice snapped, "I can't even have a decent nap! No one respects anything anymore, I swear to god if it's-"

He froze mid sentence, locking eyes with me. My breathing cut short as a small ounce of hope filled inside of me. This is it. This is my chance.

I didn't spare a glance at Kennedy as I rushed forward, locking my arms around John's narrow waist. He tensed up before returning it, breathing in.

"I missed you," He confessed, promptly tightening his grip. "You don't know how much fucking pain you put me in, h-honestly, I love you. I c-can't believe.. you're back."

Kennedy eyed us warily before trudging back inside, muttering about how something was wrong with the water on tour.

I sucked in a deep breath, This is it. Now or never. No turning back after this. Everything will always be different. I swallowed and stepped back, forcing a meek smile.

"I'm not back." I sighed, "I just want you to know that I love you."

"T-that's all?" He stammered, gripping the tent pole. "You wanted to say that you fucking love me? What kind of sick bastard are you?"

"I learned from the best," I smirked before suddenly frowning. "I never meant to hurt you, b-but.. I didn't deserve what you did. You had to have a taste of your own medicine."

"What did I do?" He exclaimed, clenching his jaw. "I wake up one morning to find your stuff packed and you crying on the couch! God Dammt!"

"It's not my fault you fucked up." I scowled, "Or around, whichever you prefer."

"I didn't fuck around!" He growled, promptly shaking my shoulders. "I don't know what you saw, but that wasn't me. I wouldn't do that to you!"

"Would you?" I laughed humorlessly. "Don't play games with me, John. I saw you with my own fucking eyes. It's a shame your still lying."

"I'm not lying!" He snarled, gripping my collard. "So help me god, I will slam you into this bus if you say that ever again!"

"Are you threatening me?" I demanded. "You're a twisted douche bag. I hope you rot in hell!"

"D-don't say that!" He managed to choke out, tears brimming your eyes. "W-why are you doing this? You know I love you!"

I tried not to focus on the tears running down his flushed cheeks, the dark bags that hung under his dull orbs. The way his t-shirt was wrinkled or how his hair was a messy heap that occupied his head. I couldn't bare a glance at his legs, the way his skinny jeans adorned them. Or that lack of skinny jeans. They were practically falling off him as it was.

"Once a cheater, always a cheater." I spoke smoothly, dusting my shirt off. "I have to go, Alex is probably waiting for me. He get's antsy after awhile."

"P-please," He begged, gripping my hand. "Don't leave me, not again! N-not for him, p-please?"

"John," I shook my head a devious grin stretched across my face, "You need to grow up."

With that out my mouth, I spun around on the heels of my shoes. I didn't dare cast him a second glance. I couldn't handle seeing him on the ground, a crying mess. After all, he got what he deserved. And trust me, when I say that.

I'm never wrong.