∞ just one night , [mason]

[faithe]

the cameras are gone and nobody screams

her friends are all gone, she's going insane, i'm sorry but - - ∞

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,10,true][atrb=style,background-image: url('http://wildorchidphotography.com/assets/images/autogen/a_StarBlackBackground.jpg');,true][cs=2] THE PARTY'S OVER NOW

[atrb=width,240] sleep wasn't something that faithe did often. usually she was too busy flying to even care that sleep existed, let alone do it. she hated sleep, anyway. it always brought along nightmares that she didn't want to deal with. the previous night she had slept, though, and she felt like shit the second she woke up. only reason she had even bothered to sleep was because jo said he'd cuddle her, which required her to actually wear pajamas. most days blended together for faithe. no sleep, people coming over at the oddest hours just for a fix, sitting around in the basement or running around the garage -- usually ending with her landing on her ass. faithe was naturally a klutz, so being high really didn't help that. forcing the nausea to pass, she headed into the basement for her stash, popped a couple pills, and headed back upstairs to her room and the bathroom. it was already five or so, she'd missed almost the entire day just because she had passed out. jo was long gone, off at work or something probably. ignoring the loneliness digging at the pit of her stomach, faithe headed in to shower quickly and get her dark makeup done. the nice thing about never leaving the house was not having to worry about how clothes matched with the weather. besides, summer in california sucked for someone who liked to avoid the sun. she checked her voicemail once she was all done, hardly even listening to the people that called about bringing her money or stopping by. sending out a text to those who called her, she let them know she was busy for the night and she'd be expecting to see them the next day. mason was getting his prize -- a night with faithe. the one thing that surprised her was the whole "we don't have to have sex" thing. usually with guys they just came over, got what they wanted, and left. faithe didn't actually hang out with people unless they were getting high or it was her and jo. that was just how it was. so, faithe sat down on the couch, legs crossed as if her small self was back in kindergarten, and stared at the blank tv. there was music playing from the surround sound, avenged sevenfold playing like usual. she hummed along and let her mind go blank, just waiting as the time passed.

[atrb=width,100] outfit , click ∞ tagged , mason ∞ notes , woooh.~

TEMPLATE BY THERE CAN BE ONLY ONE MIKEY @ CAUTION 2.0, EDITS TO BECKY

[mason]

d r e s s e d h e a d t o t o e b l a c k o n b l a c k

with me, it's gonna be a good story to tell

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,10,true][atrb=style,background-image: url('http://i307.photobucket.com/albums/nn295/mooch_was_here/Backgrounds%20and%20designs/darkaurora.png');,true][cs=2] A L L A M E R I C A N N I G H T M A R E

[atrb=width,240] work was going by incredibly slow and mason’s patience was wearing thin. not only was he completely sober, but the hangover he received from the night before was more than enough to make him want to slam his head into a brick wall. as another woman with an overly priced car pulled into the garage, it took everything mason had to keep from snapping at her. sure, he could get away with quite a bit, but he wasn’t invincible. if he lost this job, he’d be cut off from his parents until he found a replacement and, honestly, no one would want to hire mason with the state he’s in. he’s a chain smoker, an alcoholic, and a rising heroin junkie. instead of being able to say no when he wanted to, mason was becoming more and more dependent on the needle and, honestly, he couldn’t give two shits. he liked his like and the way it was going and he liked the fact that he could, quite literally, get away with anything he wanted. nonetheless, he wasn’t invincible. through his time, he’d seen the inside of the jail cell once or twice and he vowed to never go back. it’s not that he couldn’t handle ‘prison life’. it’s that he couldn’t handle being locked up and away from his shit. away from women. he was in there longer than he should of due to bad behavior, but when he finally figured out that if he played nice, he’d get what he wanted. so mason, yet again, morphed himself to fit the situation. instead of spending a year in prison, mason had spent eight months for possession of a controlled substance. that wasn’t his first time, however. the first time, he was weaseled out by his mommy and daddy, after that, it was sink or swim. sadly, the only thing i’ve ever done for him is get him out of jail and hand over wads of cash. he appreciated that, sure, but he still had to do as told or end up being cut off. their main concern was basically disowning him without actually doing so. “you don’t know us, mason. you’re too.. out of control to be our son. just.. be someone else. we’ll pay for everything, just don’t bring us up. ever.” it was that simple for mason to detach himself from his ‘family’. it’s not like it mattered, anyway. his parents were never around when he was a kid. as the hours clicked down, mason pushed through the day at a slow pace. he was hungry for some junk and he was desperate to get some in his system. when the clock finally hit five, he clocked out and ducked out of the shop, dressed in his usual way. pulling open his car door, he slid inside and pulled out his phone, quickly sending a text faithe’s way to let her know that he was on his way over. not only was he getting his prize, but he was hoping for her to hook him up. he’d shot up his last bit the night before and it was already causing him physical pain to not have any in his system. so instead of even considering the speed limit, mason sped his way there. the desperation was dripping off of him. however, when he pulled in front of the large house, mason collected himself quickly, morphing into another person as he stepped out of his car and locked it up. straightening his clothes, he sauntered up the front steps and knocked on the front door in an easy rhythm.

[atrb=width,100] outfit, here. tagged , faithe/becky. notes , this is shit. i apologize.

TEMPLATE BY THERE CAN BE ONLY ONE MIKEY @ CAUTION 2.0