Graffiti Night

First meeting him...

Been through a lot in the last year, It's like everything I love is slipping away. And every time I come home, Some more of me it isn't there. I gotta get it together, I need to do things for myself. I've given everything, But still you take more from me. I need some room to breathe
- Holdin It Down For The Underground, A Day To Remember

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It was currently 11:31 pm and Mac and I are climbing down the drain pipe that's just outside Mac's bedroom window. I jump to the ground with my black rucksack over my shoulders. Mac jumps down beside me and takes the lead.
"We have to walk for about half an hour, you up for it?" He asks. I nod and run after him as he runs into the street.
After walking and jogging for about half an hour, we arrive at a huge building with walls made of bricks. I smile to myself and follow Mac as he climbs through a hole in the wired fence topped with barbed wire. We run across the Tarmac and to the door of the warehouse. It doesn't look very old, nor does it look very new. I grab the black spray can from my rucksack and give it a shake. Then I pop off the lid and press down the valve, and start running around the building, directing the paint onto the building and leaving a dripping black line behind me. I run all the way around the big building and back to Mac.
"Well, that was a good first spray." He laughs, as I slow to a stop in front of him.
"Yeah," I laugh, "c'mon! Let's go in already!"
"Okay, okay." He chuckles and then he tries the handle on the old wooden door. It's locked. I let out a laugh.
"What?" He asks.
"Did you honestly expect it to be unlocked? It's a freaking warehouse!" I laugh. He scowls at me and then steps back, crossing his arms.
"You do it then." He says, his voice laced with annoyance. I laugh again and squish his cheek.
"Nawwwwww, is Mac annoyed because his bestest friend ever had a point and he hates being wrong?" I pout, suppressing a grin. He jerks his head away and slaps my hand away.
"Just open the damn door." He frowns. I nod and start kicking at the lock. Mac pulls me away.
"Jesus!" He exclaims. "Are you trying to get us caught?!"
"No, I'm just doing what you asked me." I go to plant another kick, but a guy with curly hair answers the door. I raise an eyebrow at Mac, who just smirks at me.
"C'mon, let's just get inside." He grins, walking past me. I follow him, closing the door carefully behind me. As I turn around, I let out a breath and stop dead in my tracks.
There are about 50 people spray painting on different parts of the huge walls. There are concrete road blocks arranged in the middle of the warehouse so people can practise smaller designs. It stinks of spray paint and I start to feel light headed. I go to walk forward but my foot kicks a box. I look down and see a box full of masks. I put one on and chuck another to Mac. He places his on and we start walking around, looking at each artists work. I find a bare spot and quickly get to work. I start with the outline and then move onto the main colours and design. I later add detail.
Three hours later and I'm finished. I stand back and admire my work, pulling my face mask down. I feel someone's presence next to me. Expecting it to be Mac, I place my head on their shoulder and wrap my arm around their waist. I hear a deep husky chuckle that definitely doesn't belong to Mac. I jump away in shock and bump into Mac, who wraps an arm around my shoulders. I step away from Mac. I stare back at the guy who I just rested my head on. He smiles down at me. He has sparkling green eyes, blonde hair, a cute smile and a hell of a jawline.
"Getting cosy are you?" He chuckles. "I'm glad that you liked me immediately. That was easy."
"Yeah, well I'm not." I snap. He chuckles.
"Nice work, by the way."
"Thank you." I say. He grins at me and turns back to my artwork.
"Where'd you learn to paint like this?" He asks, still facing the angel.
"I- I... Self taught. I just got bored and started drawing." The guy turns to me, taking a step closer so he was right up close, and stared into my eyes. He was reading me like an open book.
"I think it's much more than just getting bored." He says quietly, the edges of his mouth curling into a smirk. I stare back up at him, unable to tear my eyes away from his. It's like his eyes captivate me, holding me in that spot, unable to move or blink. Mac clears his throat and I finally blink and take a step back from his body. He chuckles and studies my artwork closely.
"Make sure no one paints over this. This is amazing." He smiles, then he walks away. Just like that. Doesn't bother to tell me his name. Or ask for mine. I can't help but stare at the back of him as he walks over to a concrete roadblock and grabs his bag, then heads towards the exit to this warehouse. Before he opens the door I yell out.
"Wait!" He turns around and smirks at me. "Will I see you again?"
"Most definitely. You know where to find me." He smiles, gesturing to the huge warehouse. I nod and then he leaves. I let out a shaky breath and I close my eyes for a moment and bite my bottom lip, trying to hide my smile. I open my eyes and turn around to face Mac. He has his arms crosses in front of him in annoyance and is leaning against a support beam holding up the building. I roll my eyes as he raises his eyebrows at me. I pack up my rucksack and sling it over my shoulders. I take a long look at my angel before grabbing the white spray paint can, pulling my black t-shirt over my noes and mouth and kneeling down. I spray paint DO NOT GRAFFITI OVER in thick bold letters in the space below my artwork. Satisfied with my work, I nod firmly and put the can back in my rucksack. I start towards the exit before I realise I've forgotten Mac. I turn back around and raise an eyebrow at him. He pulls off his mask and rolls his eyes, but follows me.
We start our long walk back to his place. In complete silence. Mac doesn't try to start any conversations or continue any of the ones I try to begin. He just shoves his hands in his black hoodie pockets, stares at the ground and kicks the small stones on the ground.
"Okay, what's your problem?" I finally snap. He looks at me for a moment and then look back down at the ground. "Mac," I plead, "just tell me."
"Him! That guy! That fucking guy is the problem!" He shouts. I cringe at the anger in his voice and swallow hard.
"Well we don't even know the name of that guy, so what's wrong with him?" I ask, my voice smaller than I was expecting.
"You like him and he likes you! And I can't compete with him! Because he looks like fucking Liam Hemsworth! You love Liam Hemsworth!" I stay silent. He was right. The guy did look a bit like Liam, and I did love Liam.
"Look, Mac," I begin softly.
"Don't try to baby voice me, it doesn't work." He cuts in.
"Fine then! Do you like this tone better?" I say, my voice going sterner and louder. "Mac, you don't have a say in who I like and don't. I don't care if you still have feelings for me. Just go fuck a slut. You've done it before. Just don't tell me who I can can't like. It's my life and I'm going to live it how I want. So get your fucking noes out of it!" Then I take off down the street. I hear him shouting after me. I don't listen, or stop. I keep running, turning left and right. And for some reason, I find myself out the front of Dylan's place. I swallow hard and shake off the fight I just had with Mac. Before I even know what I'm doing, I go into the front garden, grab some pebbles from the garden bed and start throwing them at Dylan's window. He opens the window and squints down at me. A scowl forms on his face and he disappears from the window, slamming it shut. I sigh and just as I'm about to leave, the front porch light turns on and the front door swings open. He steps out slightly and I run towards him. He engulfs me in a hug and I start crying. I have no idea why. I guess it's just all the pressure that's built up from Ryan's death, mum's death, Mac being annoying. He hugs me tightly and leads me inside. He sits down on the living room couch, pulling me down onto his lap.
"Do want something to drink?" He asks. I nod, sniffing back tears and sobs.
"Do you have an alcohol? I could really do with some vodka or... something strong." I say quietly. He nods and disappears into the kitchen. He comes back with two shot glasses filled with vodka. They look a bit cloudy looking, but I down them in no time and ask for two more. He hesitates but gets them for me. The moment I've had those two, the alcohol kicks in.
That's one of the things I hate about being me. Alcohol kicks into my system about five minutes after having the drink. No matter what type of alcoholic drink it is, it just kicks in straight away.
Dylan sits next to me and places a hand on my thigh. His thumb moves in slow circles.
"So what's happening?" He asks. I go to start off with my mother's death, but my brain decides 'no' and goes straight to the fight I had with Mac. Then it moves onto my dad, and then my mum, and then my brother. I didn't mean to, but the moment the explanation of the guy I met at the warehouse slips out of my mouth, I instantly stop crying and I look up at him. Anger glints in his eyes. I try to get out of his grip before he can drag me inside but I'm too late. He crushes me in his arms like a boa constrictor. He slams the front door shut with his foot and drags me up stairs. Before we reach his bedroom door, his brother, Ethan, comes out of his room to see what's going on. Dylan stops dead in his tracks. He stares from me to his brother and then back to me, slowly trying to piece it together. Then he high fives Dylan.
"Well done little bro. Shagging all the ladies." Ethan chuckles. He shuffles past us and goes downstairs. I hear the TV start up really loud and then Dylan opens his door in a rush. He shoves me in and slams his door behind him. I've stumbled onto my hands and knees. I turn onto my back and try to shuffle backwards but I hit the wall. I swallow hard and start yelling for Ethan. Of course this makes things worse.
"Shut up!" He hits my arm hard. I wince and curl into a ball. "How many guys have you been fucking, hey?"
"None. I-I promise." I stutter.
"Bullshit." He spits.
"I promise, Dylan. Please don't hurt me!" I plead, tears trailing down my cheeks. He smirks down at me and then pulls me to my feet. When I think he's going to let me go, he punches me in the eye. Hard. I let out a cry of pain and then gasp for a breath of air in shock. He chuckles coldly and grips my face in his right hand, making me look at him. Tears blur my vision and I struggle in his tight grip.
"You fuck me and only me." He hisses.
"Please Dylan," I sob, "I haven't done anything. I swear on my life."
"Yeah, well your life's already dead! Aren't you! You're dead inside with no way out!" He let's go of my face and pins my hands against the wall. He starts kissing my neck roughly. I let out another scream. He pulls me back from the wall and slams me into it again, making me groan in pain.
"Shut up!" He yells, slapping me hard. I wince and shut up, knowing that if I don't he'll hurt me again. He puts his face right next to mine, his lips right next to my ear.
"Now, you're going to do everything I say, got it?" He whispers. I chew the inside of my lip, hesitating. I feel his fingernails digging into my scarred wrists.
"Good." He says as I nod my head quickly. "If you scream or try to run... I think you know what I'll do." I nod again and blink back my tears. "Good girl. Now get on the bed." A tear runs my cheek and I obey him. I crawl onto the bed. He gets on top of me and starts kissing me. My eyes don't close for a second as he kisses me hard. He pulls away for a moment just to adjust his grip on my arms before he starts kissing my neck. I try to kick him in a desperate attempt to escape his clutch but all fails. He just hits me every time I do something to try escape him. I cry and scream, in both pain and desparation, the whole time he kisses me.
I give up struggling and screaming after about half an hour of him just repetitively kissing my body. I know no one is going to come and save me. No one's ever there for me. No one is really there to catch me when I fall. No one is really there to beat off the monsters. No one at all.
My thoughts are interrupted when Dylan starts unzipping my black hoodie. He manages to get it off me, and then begins ripping my t-shirt. He rips it straight down the middle. That's when the shots I took really hit me. He drugged me. He put something in my drink. No wonder it look a bit cloudy looking.
My eyelids start feeling heavy and my body feels numb and limp.
Then I black out.

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Picture is of the guy that Amber has a bit of a crush on (and who Mac hates)