The Irony of Your Perfection (An Asking Alexandria Fan Fiction)

Chapter Eleven

*A Short Glimpse into the Mind of Danny Worsnop*

Cunt.

I squeeze my eyes shut. Damn sunlight. Couldn’t it have decided to shine somewhere other than directly into my eyes?

I blink and lazily cast my gaze around the room. I think maybe I’m still a bit drunk but I don’t mind; it’s how I usually am, anyways.

Eventually my eyes land on Azalea, and I have the sudden urge to wake her up. Why, I’m not sure; I suppose I just want to be around her while she’s conscious because it seems like the both of us have hardly had a sober conversation since we’ve met.

Maybe I’ve finally found a girl that I feel different about. For once it’s not just lust; I don’t know what the fuck it is, and I’m not sure I like it.

I think back to the song I started writing at her house and mentally add a few lines.

To find a light in the darkness and a way out of this,

If only I could tell her-

No. How do I say this?

If only she could see what I can see.

That’s better.

I run over it in my head.

This isn’t over baby, don’t believe a word they said

But then, she takes a moment to ponder, to wonder what could’ve been given another chance

To find a light in the darkness and a way out of this,

If only she could see what I can see.

She doesn’t realize what’s happening to her. She can’t see that the alcohol doesn’t give her a real way out.  She’s turning into one of us, and to be honest I wouldn’t wish that upon anyone. I feel like I’ve done wrong by her and I really don’t know what to do about it.

She tells me she loves me, but I know that whenever she’s saying it she’s looking at me and seeing Joe’s face instead of mine. She thinks she loves me, but I kind of know she doesn’t even if she doesn’t realize it herself. She’s falling back on me but it doesn’t bother me too much because I haven’t had nights this wild in a long time. I suppose it’s selfish to keep her when I know that she doesn’t really love me, but what can I say? I’m deserving of the love, but I’m in no way righteous. In other words, there’s nothing binding me to be honest to her, especially if she doesn’t realize herself that she doesn’t love me.

I guess I kind of want to help her, but truthfully I’m no better myself. And it’s not a matter of quitting all of the partying and such because first of all I don’t want to, and second of all, this is rock ‘n’ roll! This is how it was meant to be. This is how we’ll make it to the top. We just have to pretend like it’s 1984 and we’re Motley Crue and we don’t give a fuck about anything or anyone. That’s how the legends were born, and that’s how they’ll die. And I don’t want to be anything short of a legend.

***

*Back to Azalea's P.O.V*

I wake up to find myself curled up beside the heater with my head resting on Ben’s stomach. Danny seems to be asleep on one of the beds with his hand down the front of his pants, and James is nowhere to be found. Sam is asleep on the floor a few feet away and Cameron is lying on the bed beside Danny, wearing nothing but his boxers and a single sock.

My head is throbbing. I roll over and bury it in the crook of Ben’s neck and listen to his even breathing. The guys have booked their first gig for tomorrow; if we don’t have an RV by then, I’m not sure how we’ll get all of the equipment over. The guys had to sell all the stuff they had back in England, so we should be going out to buy some new things today. That is, if the guys are sober enough to walk there.