Hate Amongst the Labels

Taylor's POV

I am walking on fucking clouds right now. He doesn't let go of my hand as he pulls me out the door of the hospital. His hand is warm, and I never want to let go. My heart is pounding and I can hear my pulse hammering in my head. My palms are sweating like a mother and I hope he doesn't notice. I've never felt this self-concious in my entire life. All of these thoughts are flying through my crowded mind, but I've never felt more carefree than I do at this moment.

"Are you nervous?" He asks me as I catch up to him, now walking by his side instead of behind him.

He fixes our hands so that our fingers are twined together, rather than him just grabbing my hand.

"About the tattoo?" I ask, even though I know that's what he means.

"Yea," He mutters turning his face to look at me.

"A little." I admit, truthfully. A grin worthy of an angel spreads across his face, revealing very white, straight teeth.

I am trapped in his gaze, mesmerized by his emerald eyes that sparkle from the lampposts.

He eventually looks away, flicking his black fringe out of his face.

My cheeks burn, and I feel like I'm in fifth grade all over again, going totally ga-ga over some boy.

But a very gorgeous boy, at that.

I truly do not understand how a boy so God-like would go after someone like me.

"Is it gunna hurt?" I ask.

"Like a mother." He smirks again, and I let out a small laugh.

"Wonderful." I mumble as I gaze up at the sky.

"Don't worry about it though. I'll be there," He says looking at me, a lopsided grin placed on his lovely face.

"And how might that be worth my while?" I tease.

"How about I make it worth your while?" He says playfully. If any other boy would've said that to me I would've most likely smashed his nuts on the pavement and walked away, but I think his accent did it for me.

"Sounds like a deal." I grin back, I can't help but hold back my enthusiasm.

He pulls me over, and guides me to a big beat-up van. The kind the hippies used to live in.

It's got splotches of different colored paint with bumperstickers and magnets covering every inch of it. I see 2 big, fuzzy black and white dice hanging from the mirror in the front seat.

"Here's my pile of shit," He sighs as he unlocks the driver-side door and gets in.

He leans across the seat and unlocks the passenger side for me, and I open the door and slide in.

It smells like alcohol, cheap air freshener, and cologne.

It smells like some damn good times were had in this bus.

"It's a beautiful pile of shit." I say taking in the inside of the car.

The car roars to life and we speed out of the empty parking lot.

We drive to an older, more beat up part of town and pull up to a brick building with a big neon sign that says: "Tattoos and Piercings" in green cursive letters.

My stomach does an uneasy flip and he shuts off the car, a wide smile present on his face.

"Ready?" His eyes are sparkling with excitement.

"Ready as I'll ever be," I can't help but smile back. He's just too adorable.

We get out of the car, and he walks in front of me, holding the door open like Kev did. Only when Ryan does it, it doesn't make me want to laugh it makes me feel important.

He follows close behind me, and a young guy, mid-twenties comes out from behind the curtain that I assume leads to where they do the tattoos and piercings.
He's dripping in tattoos and metal. I think anywhere this guy can get pierced and tattooed, has been pierced and tattooed.

"Hey, Ryan! How's it goin' man?" He asks in a very layed back voice, as he rubs his hands together. Uh I guess they know each other?

"Nothing much. We're just in here to get some tattoos," Ryan says and he puts an arm around my shoulder.

"That's cool, you can go check out that binder if you're lookin' for ideas." He motions to a small coffee table with a big black binder on top of it.

"Thanks man." Ryan mutters as he guides me over to the table.

We sit down on a tiny couch next to each other and flip through the pages.

I can feel Ryan's body from my ankle all the way up my side, and he's still got his arm around my shoulders. I don't ever want to move from this position.

Ryan settles on a scorpion above the crease of his elbow, and I decide on something a bit more...spicy.

I nominate Ryan to go first and the tattoo parlor man, who informed me his name is Jimmy, takes us in the back and gets his stuff ready.

We chat about nonimportant things until he's ready to start.

"Do you want me to hold your hand?" I tease, and he lets out a laugh.

"I'm a man, I can take it!" He mocks, but reaches out and takes my hand anyways.

I watch Jimmy carve the scorpion into Ryan's arm, looking for any sign of pain in his face but he gives none.

When he's all finished he wraps it up in a bandage and tells him some stuff.

I get up from my seat and unwillingly switch with Ryan. Me now in the tattoo seat.

I straddle the back of the seat, and pull my shirt up a bit so he can get to the spot I want.

"Now, what can I get for you babe? A flower?" He jokes, exchanging a glance with Ryan.

"Fuck you." I say.

"Oh, wow. Fiesty little thing you've got here." He says wide eyed at Ryan.

"No, but really, what do you want?" He asks me seriously a couple minutes later.

"Fuck you!" I scream, getting pissed off.

When they both just stare at me for a couple minutes I decide to help them out.

I sigh.

"I want a tattoo that says 'fuck you'". I explain.

They both laugh.

"Right on!" Ryans howls British accent flaring.

"Alright then. What style letters do you want?" Jimmy asks me after their laugh fest is over.

"Surprise me." I say looking away.

"Cool," He says, and with that he starts.

I feel the needle come in contact with my skin, and let out a small yelp.

Ryan squeezes my hand and smiles down at me.

~~~

Finally, when he's all finished, I get up and look at it in the mirror.

It's beautiful!

Its in all black decorative cursive writing scrawled across my lower back.

He bandages me up too, and gives me a small talk on tattoo care and whatnot.

We thank Jimmy on our way out and Ryan grabs hold of my hand again.

"So, what made you want to get 'fuck you'?" He asks, slightly amused.

"Haha, well I just figured I was gunna get kicked out of the house for just getting the tattoo in the first place. So why not get something that makes a statement too?" We both laugh.

"That's cool." He says looking at the ground, flipping the hair out of his eyes again.

We both get back to his van, but I don't want this night to end. I don't want him to leave.

Is he going to come back? Am I going to see him again? Was this just a one time thing?

I need to make this count!

"So, uhm, is this were you make it worth my while?" I smirk up at him.

He looks down, a devilish grin on his face.

He presses my back against the side of his van and holds my face in his hands.

My heart accelerates, and I'm pretty sure it's going to pump its way up my throat.

His bright green eyes burn into mine, and I can't look away; I don't want to look away.

He leans in and presses his lips lightly agaisnt mine. Surprisingly enough, I have not kissed a boy with a lip ring before. I think I like it. He then, slides his lips to the hollow below my ear, his breath sending a shiver down my spine, and nibbles on my earlobe.

My breathing is shakey and uneven already, and his hands start to slide down to my shoulders and stop at my waist.

The kissing gets deeper and he suddenly pulls away with the same devilish grin on his lips. He just turns away and slides into the van.

I stand there for a couple minutes, breathless and dumbfounded, until my mind refocuses.

I walk around the car and sit in the passenger seat.

"You're a little bitch, you know that!" I jokingly slap his arm.

His response is to start up the car, and smile a big bright smile.

"So where am I taking you?" He asks me in his amazing accent.

"Does that mean I have to go home?" I ask, even though I know I'll have to go back sometime.

"Hah, I think it would be smart if you did." He says, keeping his eyes on the road.

I tell him my address and give him directions along the way.

We pull up to the curb in front of my house, and I look up at the big house with distaste and hate.

"I don't wanna go!" I moan, slumping in my seat and fake pouting.

"I don't want to go either." He says quietly as he looks down at his lap, causing my mock pouting to evaporate.

"Wait, what? Where do you have to go?" I'm sent into mini-shock, crisis mode.

"Me and my band are going to California tomorrow. We're trying to get out there." He says still looking down. My heart plummets into the ground. He can't leave! I need this boy, more than you know!

"Oh. So I won't be seeing you then?" I ask, feeling as though someone fed my heart to the sharks.

He doesn't say anything for awhile but then, his neck snaps up and he stares me in the eyes.

"I have an idea." He says, his eyes bright with excitement. He leans over the seat and holds my hands in his. I don't say anything, I just stare at him and wait for his idea.

"Come to California with me?" He says, as I search his face for a some sign he's lying or joking. As far as I can tell he's not...

Just the very thought of running off with this guy sends my heart into a frenzy.

"There's nothing else in this world I would rather do than go with you, but I have nothing with me and if I go inside there's no way I'm gunna get back out any time soon." I say glumly, wanting nothing more than to just burst a big "YES!".

"I understand. You could maybe come find me in a couple weeks or so." His accent never ceases to make me melt!

"I can try. Where am I going?" He smiles bright and takes out a small piece of paper and a pen. He scribbles down an address and 2 phone numbers and hands the paper to me.

I smile, and sigh.

"You really have no idea how much I just want to say TAKE ME AWAY!" I throw my hands up at the last part and talk to the ceiling of the car.

He laughs a bit, and we sit there for a couple more minutes in silence.

"Well, I think I've wasted enough time." My smile fades, and my heart starts thumping in my throat; knowing this is when I have to leave.

"So, I guess I'll see you around." I look over at him and smile.

"Want me to talk you to the door?" He asks, sounding concerned.

I'm about to object since I know my parents are home, but then I decide: Hell! I'm already fucked!

"That would be wonderful." I smile smugly, thinking of my parents face when they figure out about my tattoo.

We get out of the car, and I meet him on the other side.

I look down, feeling my cheeks burn, when we reach the front porch.

He faces me and holds my hands in his. I feel the warmth from his skin flowing up my arms, causing my heart to accelerate.

"Well...I guess this is it?" I smile slightly.

"Mhmm.." He murmurs, and he leans towards me. Our lips meet and I feel his tongue slide into my mouth. He places one hand on my hip, and the other travels behind my head and knots in my hair; pulling me closer. I reach my arms up around his neck, and I feel a rush of cool air and a sharp intake of breath by my side.

I pull away, and look towards the source of the breeze.

My mom.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?!" She shrieks so loud I think people in space heard it. Just seeing her makes the old bitchy ass me from a couple hours ago rise to the top.

"Whatever the fuck I want!" I howl back, releasing my grip around Ryan's neck.

"Go ahead. Do whatever you want with your goddamned life. You just better go do it somewhere else, if you think you can talk to me like that. Hanging all over some boy like a slut." She spits the words at me in a normal tone, looking at me like I just bit the head off a live cockroach or something.

"Just let me get my things and I'll be out of your life for as long as you want." I say calmly, with a smug smile on my face.

"Maybe in the morning." At that, the bitch slams the door in my face.

"Agh, FUCK! What am I supposed to do now!?" I howl at the closed door. I whirl around, ashamed at my outburst in front of Ryan.

"Sorry about that..." I look down, letting my hair fall in my face.

"It's alright, I understand. I haven't talked to my parents in 2 years." He says, pulling me into a hug.

"Wow...that's not good." I murmur quietly, not knowing what to say.

"Do you need somewhere to sleep?" He asks me, obviously changing the subject.

"I can just go back to the hospital and get a bed there, I guess." I say into his chest.

"Well I'm camping out in the van tonight, so your welcome to join me. We can just park outside your house, and you can get your stuff in the morning. Then, if you like, we can be off to Califnornia tomorrow." My neck snaps up at the words 'join me' and as he continues talking the smile on my face grows.

"You're really gunna take me all the way out to California with you?" I ask, flattered.

"Yea, why not?" He says.

I don't think I've ever smiled so big in my life. I stretch up on my toes and give him a light kiss.

"You just saved my life." I say, sounding thankful.

He laces his fingers with mine once more and leads me back to the van. He opens the trunk, revealing a mattress and a couple folded up blankets.

He jumps onto the mattress and sprawls himself out, leaving me no room. He shoots me a smile over his shoulder and rolls over, opening his arms for me.

I smile back, and jump into his embrace. Man, I love this boy!

He lets go of me and closes the back door, grabbing the blankets and laying back down with me.

I roll over so I'm laying on my side, facing him and snuggle closer to his chest. I feel him tighten his arms around me, and I take in a lungful of his cologne, smirking devilishly up at him.

~~~In the Morning~~~

I am awoken to the sun piercing my eyelids, and the feel of someone's breath on my neck.

I look over and see the face of the person, sending all of the memories from last night flashing through my head. An automatic smile forms on my lips.

I lift the blanket up off me and glance down at myself.

Uhm yea, definately naked. I search around for a minute and find my underwear, I slip them on plus my bra.

I feel Ryan shift and I glance back in time to see his eyes open.

He smiles groggily at me, and rubs his hands over his face.

"Sleep well?" He asks me.

"Uhm, I'd say pretty damn well." I smile back.

"I'd have to say I agree with you." He says sitting up.

I put on the rest of my clothes and he just rubs his eyes and yawns.

"I'm going to go get my stuff, I'll hopefully be back in awhile." I say. I plan on just sneaking in getting my stuff and sneaking out without anyone findind me.

He gives me a light peck on the lips, and I slide out the back of the van.

I step up to my front door, and try the knob. Locked, Damn. I ring the bell and wait.

This house holds no comfort for me, like a home is supposed to. I feel like I'm knocking on a strangers door, not my own. It just reminds me of the hell I call my childhood.

When no one comes to the door, I don't knock, I bang on the door with as much force as I can muster.

Finally, my mom rips open the door, looking quite pissed I might add.

She's in her pajamas and it's fuckin 3 o'clock in the afternoon, and she's looking mad like I woke her up or something.

"What?" She asks me, reminding me of the snobby bitches from school.

"I'm here to get my things." I say calmly.

She just smiles and steps to the side, leaving me room to enter the house.

I stare her down for awhile, before deciding to just go in.

As soon as I step in the door, she slams it shut behind me.

I don't give it a thought, and I run up the stairs and into my room.

I pull out a big duffel bag and start emptying my dresser and shoving important belongings into the bag.

I bend down to pick up a stray sock, stealing a glance out the window, and notice something...new.

Bars! Bars, on my fucking windows! They're trying to fucking lock me in this prison! Why do they even want me!?

I grab my shit and storm down the stairs, ready to get out of this fucking place.

As I stalk past the living room, I see Devin in the corner of my eye.

"Where are you going?" I hear him faintly ask.

"Getting the fuck out of here! As in California!" I howl at him as I approach the front door.

As I reach out for the door knob, I feel someone's cold hand grip onto my wrist.

My mother. AGAIN!

"You're not going anywhere." She says.

"Let. Me. Out." I force as much venom into each word as possible, but she isn't phased in the least.

Only my mother...

"Like I said, you're not going anywhere anytime soon. So go back upstairs and I better not hear a word from you until I come to talk to you. And if you argue with me or if you try to leave I'll call the police and report you as a run-away." She stares me cold in the face a fake smile plastered on her face.

FUUUCKKK! It's the hardest thing in the world for me not to just rip the bleached fake ass hair out of her head, but I'm not going to deal with the police.

So instead of tempting myself further, I turn on my heel and make my way back up to my room.

I flip open my phone, pull the numbers he gave me out of my pocket, and dial the number.

I grit my teeth together as the phone rings, trying to hold back my anger.

I walk over to the window and grip onto one of the bars, until I hear him pick up.

"Taylor?" He asks, sounding worried and still tired.

"Yea, seems like I won't be leaving this hell hole for awhile." I say, through my teeth.

"When do you think they're going to let you out?" He asks.

"Never." I mutter.

"That sucks." He sympathises.

"Story of my life." I know getting locked up in my room isn't exactly how I imagined this ending, but somehow I don't think this is where it ends...I think this is where it fucking starts.

But, who knows. Life's a bitch.