Southern Constellations

I've learned one thing from this experience of internet hate; everything is easier when you're friends are with you. It's amazing how happy they can make you when you were so insecure ten seconds ago.

"Mike! Can I please do this?" I yelled, my stomach aching from all of the laughter I had been doing throughout the early times of the day.

"Nope," He answered, laughing hysterically. He nudged my elbow again, causing me to sigh loudly.

"I want to slaughter you right now," I admitted sarcastically. I glared lightly at him, and rubbed out the mistake on the paper Mike caused. I had been drawing and sketching a lot of Tim Burton type stuff lately. It made me happy. And because I discovered the amazing pastime, I could only be thankful for the comments on the photos. Vic had suggested art instead of self infliction, and it really helped.

"No sugar coating things there," Mike commented, laughing. He had been sitting next to me for a while now, doing his best to make me laugh. For a while, he had just watched me sketch contently. But I think he had gotten bored after about an hour.

"Why would I, Mikey?" I closed the sketchbook, and pushed it across the table, away from Mike and I. I wasn't making any progress with him here. I didn't really mind, though. Mike never failed to make me laugh.

He shrugged his shoulders and stood up, stretching his arms above his head. "Vic should be back in about an hour," He stated, checking the time on his cell phone. "What do you want to do until then? We could go shopping, or whatever girls like to do," he suggested.

I chuckled softly. "Shopping?" I asked. "How about we go get drinks, or maybe see if there's a local concert somewhere," I added. I stood up, and walked over to the sofa. I grabbed my jacket that was laid on the back of it, and put it on.

"We could get drinks." He laughed as I hoped around to try and pull my Vans on.

"We're walking, though," I warned. No way in hell was I ever going to drive with even as little as an ounce of alcohol in my bloodstream. And I wouldn't ever get into a car with a driver who had an ounce of alcohol in him either. I had been scared of the concept of drunk driving since I was about six.

"Alright, let's go," Mike said, walking outside. He waited for me to lock the door, before we began walking down gravel path, and onto the sidewalk. He draped his arm over my shoulder.

"You don't have to babysit me, you know. I'm doing perfectly fine with all of this bullshit," I informed him. Vic made sure that I was constantly with someone whenever he wasn't with me. We had talked about it one night, but I had been tired. I did remember him saying something about being scared that one comment would be the last one, and It would hurt me more than the others. Sometimes, the fact that he was protective was overwhelming.

"I'm not 'babysitting' you, I'm keeping you alive," he mumbled under his breath. He was hesitant to say this, that much was obvious.

"What the hell does that mean?" I asked, growing slightly annoyed with the fact that everyone was so worried about me.

"It means that I see you as a little sister. And I'm going to be overly cautious, because if you get hurt I'm going to feel like it's my fault. If I'm your brother, I have to protect you," He answered. His words came out rushed.

I sighed. "Mikey, no offence, but that's stupid. I've gotten better, can you not see that? I've been trying so hard, and I think that I've got that not caring part mastered," I stated, becoming overly confident.

Mike laughed, and stared at me. "See, this is the Cora that everyone loves," He said, winking at me. "The one that doesn't give a fuck."

"So, that mean everyone loves me now," I teased, giggling at myself.

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"Coraline, would you please just listen to me-?"

"Listen to you? Why aren't you listening to me?" I refused to cry, to let him see how vulnerable I was. "You said you wanted to protect me, but to protect me, you leave me? What the fuck Vic! That doesn't even make sense!"

"Yes, it does! Just listen to me! I don't know why the fans are reacting like this, but they are! It's hurting you and you know it! You've built a fucking wall between reality and denial! You refuse to admit it, but the longer you hold in your frustration, the harder it's going to be when you face something as simple as a pair of scissors!" His voice wasn't harsh, but sympathetic. He knew exactly what was happening, but I wasn't going to admit it. I wasn't. Ever.

"I've gotten better! I haven't even thought about anything like that in a long ti-!"

"Stop lying, Cora! You think about hurting yourself every two seconds! I'm not an idiot! That's all you think about ever since that fucking picture was posted online!" He accused.

I shook my head, and ran outside. Vic's footsteps were right behind me. I walked into the darkness, barely able to see anything from the sudden light change. My eyes slowly adjusted, and I could see the gravel walkway coming to an end.

"What the hell are you doing?" Vic asked, his voice just above a whisper.

"I'm obviously not wanted here," I answered, unlocking the door to my car.

"I never said that! All I said was that it was better for us to be away! I never said that I wanted you to be away!" He grabbed my wrist tightly.

"Let me go," I demanded through clenched teeth. I wrenched my wrist from his grasp, and got inside. I slammed the door, and revved the engine, before pulling away.

\•\• Vic's P.O.V /•/•

What had I just done? All I said was that It was better if we weren't together; it wouldn't make her hurt so much. It was obvious that she was. I was bewildered that no one else could see right through her plastic smile the way I could.

I ran back inside, and grabbed my cell phone from the pocket of my jacket. I punched in Austin's number, and hit 'send.'

He answered after three rings. "Vic?"

"Austin, I think Coraline's going to your house. I'm not sure though. I don't want her to get hurt, and that's the only place I would think she would go. She wouldn't hurt herself...would she? Oh my god, what if she does? What is she gets into an accid-?"

"Vic, slow down. She'll be fine. I'll have Tinika talk to her when she gets here. What happened?" Austin's reassurance was comforting. I knew that she would clam down after she talked to Tinika, and I knew there was no way that she was going the appropriate speed limit. She would be there in about fifteen minutes. I just hoped that she would be okay.

"We got into a fight about the comments on her photos and things, I told her that she would be better off without me, but-"

"You didn't want to be without her, it was just a suggestion." Austin finished the sentence for me. "She'll be okay, man. I'll text you when she gets here."

The line ended, and I sighed loudly. I began pacing back and forth, trying to distract myself from the many scenarios that could be possible.

Something could go terribly wrong. She would start crying, and wouldn't be able to see the road; resulting in a lethal car accident.

She could commit suicide.

She could be fine. She could get to Tinika in time, and everything would be fine by tomorrow.

"Fuck," I hissed under my breath. We had to go back on tour tomorrow. With both bands. So she would have to talk to me eventually, but I wouldn't want her to do something that she didn't feel she had to.

My cell phone vibrated, and it informed me that I had received Austin's text. I hadn't realized that it had been 30 minuted that I had been coming up with worst-case scenarios.

She's here. She's fine, crying, but fine.

I exhaled, and instantly felt more relieved.

I was such an idiot.