Come Back to Me

2

The light blinded him yet fueled the energy inside him, forcing him to take another shot and continue to dance to the music as if he were truly enjoying himself. In reality, he wanted to gun down every single person around him. A truly horrible thought, especially given the state of the world now...From the supposed men that stood against the wall of the club, pushing themselves onto the girls that passed by, to the wanna-be woman that refused to leave him alone...he wanted them all gone. He couldn't help the swirling thoughts that flooded his mind anymore. The pills did nothing, alcohol just intensified the rage further...there was no peace of mind. Any ounce of sanity he would have had was burned out of his system years ago.

Now, the Swede was just a shell of his former self.

Or am I?

For someone who had been written to die, perhaps he was exactly what he was supposed to be. Full of nothing but hatred for the world that had stripped him of any joy, that tormented him every chance it got no matter what he tried to do. There had been multiple times he had nearly died trying to feel anything but the hollowness inside. Countless times Euronymous had found him on some bathroom floor on the brink of yet another overdose or covered in his own blood as he tried to die. As always, the universe continued to deny him even that small pleasure.

The drugs seemed to help at first, almost pushing him harder, but even that feeling had passed almost as quick as it came. Even the other's couldn't stand it anymore. Euronymous had suggested rehab multiple times only for it to end in a bloody fight between the two of them. Given his hostility towards Vanessa regarding Vera, Dead figured much of that anger was pointed at him for even still wanting to be with her at this point. Maybe there was some truth in his anger...maybe it was best to let her go and just move on.

Shaking his head, Dead continued to dance to the bullshit people called "music."

Trash is more like it...

Still. He tried to keep up the appearance of being somewhat put together.

Just another distraction.

A distraction from his own self-destruction, a distraction from Mayhem in general...a distraction from her and his own fucked up memories. Maybe if he pretended hard enough things wouldn't hurt so much...

No...they always hurt...

Nothing ever truly went away. Even the voices in his head had gotten louder over the years...

To hell with those pills too. To hell with everything.

His eyes opened, wandering the club. Everything in here made him want to throw up. He hated this type of place, couldn't wrap his mind around the fact that Euronymous actually enjoyed the stuff. The only good type of music seemed to have died out a long time ago with everyone making different versions of the same music or just different vocals for one song.

No originality anymore. Fuckers can't think for themselves. God damn sheep...

Turning to the bar counter, Dead motioned for another shot. Twelve shots and six beers later he still hardly felt drunk at all. Even that was being taken away from him. Downing the drink, Dead turned back to where he had left the woman who called herself his girlfriend.

He couldn't deny that Jess was a pretty girl. Not someone you would see on the cover of a magazine, but someone you'd like to be with. In truth, she wasn't a horrible person. Sometimes she was fairly nice to him and actually acted like she cared for him, but then there were the days she didn't get her way. It was no secret that the brunette was only with him for his money, using it to get whatever she wanted. Oftentimes she would just take his card without saying a word and leave him stuck with the bill. On those days they fought viciously until she left in tears while he had bloody scratches on his face and chest from her attacks. Still. At this point anyone was better than no one.

Currently, she was on the lap of another man with her hands up his shirt. He wasn't a stranger, the two of them had been together at one point in time before she left him to try and get with him instead. Conveniently, he always seemed to know where she was at every moment and would show up. Dead rolled his eyes, neither of them were worth fighting over or against. Even with his shitty self esteem he knew he was a better catch than him. Dead never could remember his name, something that started with an "R," but he remembered he was at least fifteen years older than her.

Just be done with it already. Being alone would probably be better. At least then you'd have money for yourself.

Turning his head, Dead locked eyes with Euronymous and motioned for him to follow him out. The guitarist took a look over his shoulder before nodding in agreement. Two could play at this game. Let her find her own way home or even back to his bed. The two deserved each other for all the shit they've pulled. Every attempt he ever made at finding Vanessa had been instantly shut down by her or some kind of spyware downloaded onto his phone. He had been completely helpless to do anything.

No. Just weak.

He couldn't blame her even if he wanted to. He could have kicked her to the curb sooner, could have just kept looking in secret somewhere or got a burner phone. But he had been too stupid to even consider those options. Now there wasn't anything stopping him. It had taken almost five years of misery with Jess, but now he was going to grow a pair and do what made him happy...if one could even call it that anymore. He wasn't sure if it was true happiness or just trying to fill a void at this point, but maybe something would work out the way he wanted. If not, then fuck it. Fuck it all.