Hypnotized by the Carbon Monoxide

Charlie stood on the stage, adjusting the black box for the ear pieces she’d wear during the show. She clipped it to the back of the brown leather belt hugging her this hip. Her guitar hung around the front of her hips, the strap dipping into her shoulder a bit. The chords for the wireless gear ran up the back of her shirt, under her hair, over the tops of her ears to the custom pieces designed to help dull down the sounds of the large amps on either side and the screams of the crowd to a normal volume.

Trace stood by the side stage sound booth; arms cross over his angular chest as he watched her. He was trying to figure out how, when, or if she was even going to try to make him want her more than he already did. He wanted to mostly know, if she was even going to, how she was going to try and get him hard with one single look. That’s what he wanted to know. Simply so he could avoid it; he didn’t need to get in a fight with WiL any time soon.

A black a purple plaid shirt hugged around Charlie’s upper chest perfectly. To Trace it looked as if the button over the fullest part of her chest was straining to stay closed. The long sleeves were rolled up to be three-quarter sleeves and exposed the lily skin on one arm and the bright tattoos on the other. But Trace’s eyes lingered more near the top of her shirt, near the spot where two buttons at the top of the shirt were undone and he should see her collar bone perfectly.

He desperately wanted to do several things to Charlie: One, viciously tear her cloths off. Two, suck on her collar bone and hip bones. Three, get inside her for hours on end. That’s what Trace wanted as he watched her move to the pedals laid out on the stage for her.

A smile spread over his face as she began to hum adjusting the pedal to her liking. Charlie hardly noticed people watching her anymore. She was so use to Ronnie always staring at her ass or chest she’d learn to ignore the feeling of eyes of her, or simply tell her self it was just Ronnie and to ignore him, he wasn’t worth was jail time.

Standing Charlie glanced at up at Trace leaning against the sound booth. She waved lightly before going back to the box for her ear pieces. It wasn’t hanging right and was dragging the back of her black skinnies down slowly.

She caught Trace’s wave out of the top of her eyes as she looked down, frowning at the fact that her equipment didn’t want to get along with her for the day so far. She paused in her attempt to make it work as laughter hit her ears. Her eyes drifted up to Trace smiling and laughing at her. She rose a brow at him as he opened his blue eyes to stared at her.

“Having trouble are we?” He teased. Rolling her eyes Charlie turned away from him slightly still trying to adjust the box properly. “You look like you’re ready to kill the floor.” Trace muttered walking out towards her. Charlie glared at him. “Hey, I’m not the bad guy here.” He stated stopping in front of her and spinning a finger at her.

Narrowing her eyes at him suspiciously, Charlie turned slowly. She froze as Trace grabbed her hips stopping her three-sixty slow spin. He grabbed the device unhooking the ear pieces as he pulled it off her belt. He held it up to his face looking at the volume knob, the on-off switch and then the clip.

Holding up a finger Trace moved back to the side sound booth as Charlie stared after him confused by his actions.

“Did you just steal my shit?” Charlie asked in disbelief to what was happening. Her bare feet rooted to the ground as she tried to figure out what was happening. Had he really just taken her stuff and only moved twenty to thirty feet away? He wasn’t as bright as she thought he was.

“No, I’m fixing it.” Trace muttered softly as he adjusted a few things on it before walking back to her. “Turn.” He demanded. Raising a brown Charlie did as told. No one in the past few weeks had demanded her to do anything, and all the sexual things she would think of that involved turning didn’t help her situation. “Now,” Trace muttered softly. “Don’t kill me.” He muttered grabbing the back of her jeans and belt.

Charlie’s heart jumped to her throat as the pulse it gave off to a quick ride south. Her jaw tightened to keep the blush from rising to her pale cheeks where everyone moving around her would have seen it.

“The clip was loose.” Trace state hooking the black box to her belt before plugging the chord for the ear pieces back in. Nodding Charlie adjusted her ear pieces as Trace wandered back to wear he was standing before hand.

William looked over at Tony who shrugged. William shrugged back, confused by the actions. Brendon though quickly ducked off stage to the girls standing on the side.

“What the fuck?” He whispered to them as all four girls shrugged lightly. Aimz brows narrowing at Charlie before they darted to Trace, giving him the same confused glare.

Charlie moved to her pedals and crouched down, gauging how well her pants stayed up as she fixed a few out of place chords. Standing she looked at Trace and smiled making a heart with her hands at him.

Trace blinked before trying to force a smile back off his face. Lifting his hands he pretended to grab it and stick it in his pocket before making a heart at her with his hands, simply playing along.

Charlie reached up with both hands pretending to grab it. Trace lowered his hands as he watched her pull her hands apart, ripping his heart in two before throwing it on the ground.

Gasping he placed a hand over his heart, giving her a pained look. Rolling her eyes at him he frowned at her lack of compassion for his broken heart.

Glaring at her, he flipped her off. Charlie smirked reaching up and pretending to grab it and stuffed it into her shirt mouthing ‘later’ at him with a wink. Rolling his eyes he tipped his head back, arms crossed over his chest tightly.

“Did you just see what I saw?” Brendon asked lightly looking at the girls they nodded softly. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” He asked they all looked at him as a smirk moved over his lips.

William looked at Tony again who shrugged again, a completely and utterly confused look on his face, almost matching Williams.

‘Ask you’re Amy’ Tony mouthed to not get caught by Trace or Charlie. Nodding William moved off stage, his confusion deepening at Brendon and the girls in a circle, their hands in like they were preparing for a soccer game. He simply turned around walking back on stage and moving over to Tony.

“I’m lost. Some thing’s going down with Brendon and the girls. Some thing’s going down with those two.” He nodded his head as Charlie standing next to Trace.

“No, I seriously can’t believe you did that.” Trace muttered laughing, a hand over his eyes as he hunched forward slightly. Charlie pushed him.

“Want you don’t want this?” She teased as he laughed a little harder.

“How’s it going to work if it’s in your bra?” Trace asked ignoring the question. “I mean,” He paused licking his lips. “You don’t seem like the type of girl who likes her breast fucked.” He whispered slightly embarrassed that he had to say the words out loud. Charlie flinched lightly.

“It was the closest place to put it, besides,” Charlie muttered in a hush standing only an inch away from Trace. “My guitar would have blocked the view of me putting it in my pants.” She muttered stunning Trace. “That’s what I thought.” She muttered licking her lips and biting her bottom lip at him.

Trace pushed Charlie back toward the stage.

“I may be deprived, but I’m not that deprived.” Trace stated. Charlie pursed her lips at him and raised a brow. “Besides, I don’t need you when you’re only trying to use me till your manly-man shows up to make everything okay.” He grumbled at her. His laughter gone, spoiled by her words.

“Oh yes, he’s such a manly-man that can make everything okay.” Charlie snorted rolling her eyes and moving back onto the stage for their sound check. Trace stared at her confused. He didn’t understand if she was agreeing with him or not.

Charlie wasn’t agreeing with him. WiL and her in the same room was just about as good as them on the phone, the fighting only didn’t start as quickly because they just stood in each other’s arms with out anything being said for a while. That was the only reason why they got along better in person. Though Charlie didn’t see how WiL’s manliness was going to fix her problems, she found him far from what she wanted in bed. Yes she found him attractive and yes she did want him physically attractive both clothed and unclothed but… for Charlie that’s where it stopped. She didn’t find the way he moved in bed fulfilling or satisfying in anyway.

Trace waited, keeping his mouth closed till Charlie walked off the stage from sound check.

“What?” Both were still stuck on the same conversation and on the last line that had been spoken. Shaking her head Charlie made her way through the mine field of all the different band equipment before she left out the back door. Trace hot on her heels as he followed her. He wanted answers.

Charlie moved down the barren side of the building and held her hand out to Trace. Raising a brow Trace slapped her hand lightly. A smile broke over Charlie’s full lips despite the annoyance filling her whole body.

“Give me a cigarette you moron.” Trace rolled his eyes and dig into his tight jean pocked pulling his pack of red out along with a bright pink liter. “Why is your liter pink?” Charlie asked taking the cigarette he held out to her. Trace laughed placing a cancer stick between his lips.

“Have you,” He paused flicking the sparker. “Have you ever seen,” He took a deep breath holding the bright pink lighter out to Charlie. “Have you ever seen someone get away with stealing a pink liter?” He asked inhaling the toxic smoke and letting it relax his body as he sat on a planter box and leaned forward on his knees.

“Touché.” Charlie muttered lighting up the cigarette and holding the liter back out to Trace. He took it in his nibble fingers before leaning back and stuffing it into his jean pocket.

Charlie took advantage off him leaning back and straddled his hips placing one hand on his shoulder as the other held her cigarette to her lips.

“Hello to you too.” Trace muttered sitting up a bit and placing one arm around her waist. “So what did you mean?” He asked softly. Charlie got up annoyed again. She sat down next to Trace, a frown now etched it’s way onto her lips. “What did you mean?” Trace asked again softly.

“It means WiL’s…” Charlie paused shifting her bottom job to the side as she let the smoke drift from her lips. Trace leaned in a bit wanting to suck the smoke from her lungs into his; straight off her full, pouty lips. “WiL’s…” She closed her mouth blowing the last bit of smoke out quickly and glancing at Trace. “Not what I want in bed.” She stated quickly looking away from Trace’s surprised face.

Charlie took a drag of her cancer stick glancing back at Trace.

“You seem like the type of girl, no offense,” He muttered lifting a hand at her as he took a quick drag. “Really mean no offense, I many be getting the wrong idea but.” He blew the smoke out looking Charlie in the eyes. “You seem like the type of girl who looks for a guy who’s good in bed.” Charlie nodded at the idea. “And who’s aggressive in bed.” Charlie nodded again taking another drag, trying to let the toxins relax her body. “Then where am I going wrong?” Trace asked. “He’s bad in bed, but he seems like a very mean aggressive person… so… what am I missing?” He asked softly.

“He’s a softie.” Charlie sighed. “He’s too sweet.” She groaned.

“I thought guys liked nice guys.” Trace muttered. Everything his father had ever taught him about women and pleasing them was being turned up side down.

“Most women do… to a point.” She mused sucking more down off the cigarette between her fingers and lips. “But I’m not little Miss Barbie from Southern California that as a small cute little stud in her nose and a butterfly either on her hip or lower back.” Charlie huffed. “I’m not that girl and never was going to be.” Charlie muttered as Trace nodded sucking down more of his cancer stick as Charlie stomped hers out.

“That’s a waist.” Trace mused picking up the smushed half smoked bud. “But on another note.” Trace mused eyeing the cancer stick to see if it was savable or not. “If he’s such a sweet-heart and isn’t what you’re looking for in a man…” Trace muttered through the filter of his cigarette as he rolled his free hand and tossed the smashed bud Charlie had smoked back down. “Then why,” He removed his smoked cancer stick from his lips. “Are you still with him?” Trace mused lightly as Charlie leaned back on her hands watching him.

“I may seem like a cold hearted bitch.” Charlie muttered. A smirk spread across Trace’s lips as he nodded. “But he seems to care and I don’t wanna hurt him.” Trace blinked a bit startled.

“So you do have a heart.” Trace teased. Charlie rolled her eyes.

“I don’t like tears.”

“I don’t think he’d cry.” Charlie snorted lightly as the words left Trace’s lips. “He may not be as mean and tough as you’d like, but he’s also not a pussy.” Trace stated. “I’ve never met him but I can tell you from listening to Aiden and going to a show. He’s not a pussy.” Charlie nodded lightly.

“I don’t like dating.” Charlie mused. “Because I hate breaking up or being with another person in a relationship type deal; it just kills the mood of things.” Trace raised a brow.

“I like it.” He stated. Charlie glanced at him. “I like knowing someone likes me enough to be with me and souly me and no one else. I like knowing that she likes me to hold her, to kiss her, to satisfy her, treat her the way she needs to be treated…” He stopped at Charlie snorted.

“You sound like WiL.” Trace frowned as Charlie did.

“No, not ever girl is treated the same way.” He stated putting out his cigarette as it got to the filter. “If I were dating you,” Trace muttered trying to form his thought. “I wouldn’t go out and buy you a hella expensive jewelry or something like that. I’d sooner buy you a bottle of mace to use on Brendon.” Charlie sat forward at the idea. “Don’t, it’s only an example.”

“Then get a better example.” Charlie shot.

“Fine.” Trace muttered leaning back on his hands. “I’d sooner buy you…” He stated slowly pausing to think. “A tattoo only I would be able to see, or,” Trace stopped as he watched Charlie raise a brow at him.

“What kinda tattoo?” She pressed.

“What ever you wanted, but it would have to be on you’re inner thigh or something.”

“Or on my breast?” Charlie questioned. Trace nodded while lifting his hand.

“My point is; I’m not going to treat the woman I’m with like someone she’s not.” Trace stated before leaning over. “And I’m not buying to a tattoo. I don’t love you so much since you tore my heart and two and threw it on the ground.” He muttered before getting up and getting away.

“Aww, come on.” Charlie whined getting up and following him onto his bus. “Don’t you wanna see where I’d get it?” She teased as they entered the empty back room. Trace rolled his eyes with a groan and picked two RockBand guitars; holding one out to Charlie. Frowning she took it from him. “Sure you don’t wanna see?” Trace glanced at her, forcing his eyes on her face from drifting down.

“No.” Trace stated sitting down and starting the game. Frowning Charlie put the strap over her chest.

“Charlie.” She stopped looking back at Brendon. “I know you love the game but we’ve got a show to do.” Both Trace and Charlie looked at each other. They’d forgotten about the show completely.

“Oh yeah.” They both muttered stopping the game and setting the guitars down.

“I people call me stupid and forgetful.” Charlie punched Brendon in the shoulder as she passed him. “Ow, that was uncalled for.” He mumbled following Trace out of the bus and inside the venue.