No One Does It Better

Oli's P.O.V

"The look on the bastards face was priceless!" I exclaimed, my band mates and I were huddled in our small van, desperately trying to keep warm. Living this way was becoming difficult, we often found ourselves going mad from the pure stress of it all, a laugh like this was something we needed.

"It was! He looked dumbfounded!" Matt chimed, slinging his arm around me in a proud fashion, I just smiled in response.

After several moments of relaying the events over and over again, I sighed as the guys attempted to find sleep. I, on the other hand, was not tired; but wide awake. I excused myself, opening the back door, and grabbed my coat before aimlessly walking the streets of Sheffield. Being here, home, brought back memories that were better left forgotten.

I hadn't been to my real home in years, after my parents kicked me out for my drug problem, even talking to my little brother Tom was impossible. Even now that I'm clean, they refuse to see me; I pulled myself from my thoughts as I neared the all to familiar place.

A cliff above a river , crashing waves was a sound that was constant, it lulled my mind into a comfortable numb feeling. I could recall all the times I had come here, all the times I had fucked up, needed to get high, or felt the urge to be standing at the edge of the world. It was then, that I began to question why I even came here, it was a place full of memories, pain staking memories nonetheless, ranging from a blade to my skin, to a needle in my vain; yes, an addiction is an addiction.

I always felt...safe here , yes safe was the word. This was a place that wasn't easy to find, yet I could find if you blindfolded me, it was everything I loved, everything I had ever needed. A calm, lonely place, where reality would become abstract and blend with thoughts of better days.

Too bad I hadn't found any, sleeping in a van could only keep you so happy, my friends were depressed, just as much as I, we practiced and practiced as much as we could, yet got no reward . The lads were much more talented then most, which led me to believe maybe it was my fault. I was by no means a perfect vocalist, I couldn't sing to save my life, screaming was the only solution for that, but how many people liked that? Apparently not many, our shows never got over 100 people, can you imagine how Awful that makes me feel? I just want people to come see us, not for fame or anything, but to hear our songs, get our message, and maybe give me some hope that there really are better days. Things are always changing, but one thing seems to remain constant, I just want to it all to end.

-*-

Josh's P.O.V

"2 days Joshua! You have 2 days to impress the living hell out of that label, otherwise your done! Your contracts ended today, that means no endorsement, no money, and they take away your house , car, and wipe your bank! You hear me?"
George was screaming into my ear, but I just stared at the mirror before me, watching my reflection.

My contract was up, and I knew I should be marketing myself...no, marketing myself? I'm not some kind of animal! Is this really what I want? To be the puppet of a label? Is this even what I want to do anymore? I can honestly say, I dont know, after my encounter with that Oli guy yesterday, I didn't know what I wanted. He was right, I'm absolutely pathetic, I sang songs I didn't write, and played pop tunes, frankly; I hated that shit!

The real Josh Franceschi was a rocker, he loved classic rock, punk rock, anything with a heavy, fast, beat. He wanted to make music that he wrote himself, sing songs about how it feels to be human, the pain, the love, just life. He wanted to play sold out arenas, but not full off screaming pre teen girls, but full of what he classified as the outcast kids, the dreamers and the hopeful.

"Answer me!" A roar from my manager snapped me back into reality, he looked pissed, and I noted that two men with name tags were on the bus now. They were obviously from the label, their faced looked agitated, but I guess I was about to make that worse.

"Well the label can fuck off. I don't...I'm not doing this anymore. Just go ahead, take my car, house, and bus, that's fine. I ...I just can't do this anymore." I blurted it out quickly, earning gasps from the 3 men.

"Josh, you are-"

"Oh belt up! I can't stand you, you dimwitted pig!" I snapped at the man who had been the large thorn in my side for years, honestly, it felt good.

I made a move to the back, grabbing my old rucksack and stuffing it with clothes, my phone,charger, and a few things I couldn't live without. I grabbed my wallet, and kissed my old home a bittersweet goodbye, before storming to the front.

"I mean it, I'm done. My phone number will be changed, and I hope to never hear from you again."

Truthfully, this felt amazing. I felt as if the real me was finally emerging, I didn't have to hide behind a pg censor and have a pre teen friendly vibe. I was 19 years old for fucks sake! I could care less about who I offend! I'm tired of acting happy, I'm a fucking wreck, but that's fine, at least I know I have something I need to work on.

After slipping into the cold Sheffield air, I began wrapping my coat around myself, trying to keep some warmth. I really dont know where to go, I have no family, or friends, I was never allowed to have them. No time, apparently. My feet absentmindedly took me to a small secluded Forrest, I clutched onto the straps on my bag as I walked the narrow trail, it was pitch black save for the glow of the moon. Usually I would be creeped out, but I guess I had too much on my mind.

A strange noise from a head made me stop in my tracks, whatever it was sounded like a muffled cry. I listened closer, and sure enough, there it was again. I began to follow the sound, which was echoing dully in the surrounding woods, as I got closer, roaring water was mingling with the unfamiliar sound.

I finally found myself standing in a bit of a clearing, with one lone cliff that towered over what I presumed to be a river. standing, or more like sitting in the distance was a crouched over figure. As I got closer, it was easier to make out more and more detail. Shoulder length brown hair, small figure, black trench coat, red and black scarf...I gasped. Which in turn, alerted the person of my presence, I stepped closer.

"I uh, Oli?" I asked quietly. He growled a "go away", yeah it was defiantly him.

"Kind of hard when I have nowhere to go, why are you so upset?" And why was I being so nice? Sure, he was quite possibly everything I could dream of, yes, I had realized I was gay many years ago, just one more thing I had to hide from the world. but why was I being nice? Well...He was gorgeous, perfect dare I say, and defiantly my type, but he was quite rude, but yet again, he was right about everything.

"Go to your bus and leave me alone! I don't care for your company!" He hissed as he stood up, pointing in the direction in which I came.

"I quit. You were right, you know? You were one hundred percent right. I don't want to live my life being a liar, and that's what I was doing. So I quit and have no intentions of going back. Having no money, house or car will suck, but it's whatever. Now why are you upset?" My voice was becoming shaky, he was staring holes into my skin, a permanent scowl on his other wise perfect face.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Was his response, he kicked a stray rock off the cliff and watched it cascade to the depths of the water. My breathe hitched as I approached him quietly, he motioned to say something else, but I took him by surprise; by wrapping my arms around him. He stood as still as humanly possible, while I pulled his frame close to mine.

Something about him was intriguing, I was dying to know why he was the way he was, what I had done to make him so hateful (besides everything I admitted too), and most of all, I was striving to learn more about him. My god, what was this boy doing to my mind?