Home > Punk 57(70)

Punk 57(70)
Author: Penelope Douglas

My body warms with excitement, and I smile. If it weren’t so dark in the truck, I’m sure he’d be able to see me blush.

“Be early,” I beg. “I might not be able to wait.”

He kisses me, and I linger for a moment before pulling away. Climbing out of the truck, I look back at him once and then unlock my door, entering the house.

As soon as the door’s closed, I hear him pull away.

How easy it is to get lost with him. A few minutes ago I was crying, and now none of that seems to matter. I want friends, of course. I want to know Ten will stay by my side, and I want Misha back, but…

Masen just makes everything seem smaller. Like I have a new perspective. He’s becoming a part of my heart, and I feel good when he’s around.

Almost like none of my fears matter as long he’s there.

Tomorrow he said he would tell me everything, but honestly, part of me isn’t sure I want to know anymore. Of course the more I know about him the more I’ll feel like he’s real and the more I’ll be a part of his life instead of him just being a part of mine, but I like him. A lot.

I walk up the steps and down the hall, entering my room. Switching on the lamp, I kick off my shoes and collapse onto the bed, hanging my head off the end and staring upside down at all my chalk wall scribbles.

My eyes feel heavy with exhaustion, but I’m not tired.

Misha’s words and my words mix together, running into each other along the wall, and I can’t even remember whose are whose anymore. His thoughts and lyrics, my dreams and musings, his anger, and my confusion about everything in my life… Misha is everywhere, and I miss him. For a long time, he was my savior.

But Masen makes me feel courage, too.

I don’t need him to fill the void Misha left, but I like how he pushes me and expects more. He’s a reminder of what I want to feel every day, whether it’s with him or on my own. He’s taught me that who I am when I’m with him feels too good to sacrifice for the approval of everyone else. The way I dress, the guys I talk to, the games I play…it’s all plastic, and when I’m with him, I’m gold.

My eyes fall on the list of words I drew over the past couple of weeks.

Alone

Empty

Fraud

Shame

Fear

And below it, I’d added the line he spoke to me in the back of the truck at the drive-in.

Close your eyes, there’s nothing to see out here.

I’d loved that line. As if everything we needed to know, we couldn’t see. It was all inside of us.

I blink at the list, reading them over and over in my head.

Alone, Empty, Fraud, Shame, Fear,

Close your eyes, there’s nothing to see out here.

Hmm. I read them again in my head and once more out loud.

It rhymes. Like a song.

Alone, Empty, Fraud, Shame, Fear,

Close your eyes, there’s nothing to see out here.

I flip over and study the words again. It’s kind of weird how they fit together like that.

Of course he’d given the words separately, and he never indicated a connection between them, but I knew there was some kind of meaning other than what he was telling me. The first word was at the Cove, not meant for me, after all. I’d had a feeling the words were coming from somewhere specific.

Hopping off my bed, I pull out my desk chair and have a seat, waking up my laptop. Typing the words into the search engine, I hit Enter and wait.

Pictures and YouTube videos immediately load onto the screen, and I sit back, scanning the hits to see if it’s from a song, and if so, which one. One of the YouTube videos is titled Pearls, and I click on it.

The video is grainy and dark, but I can see the stage and lights of the small venue, and I hear a crowd shouting and calling out.

And then I peer closer at the guys on stage, not blinking and my heart picking up pace. A band with their drums and guitars, and…

Masen?

I breathe harder and faster. What?

Everyone is positioned, one guy sitting behind his drums, two others flanking Masen with guitars, and Masen looking casual with a hand in his pocket and no instrument. My blood runs hot, and my chest aches. What the fuck is this?

The song starts, hard and loud, the drummer pounding in steady beats and the crowd jumping up and down as Masen bobs his head. I dart my eyes down, underneath the video, and see the band name.

Cipher Core. He has a band?

The scavenger hunt. Oh, my God. I’d thought he was just a guest that night. Some random guy hanging around, but he wasn’t. That was his band’s event.

My hand shakes as I move the cursor and click on the Show More section. The lyrics are written there, and I see Masen close his eyes and hold the microphone on its stand as his smooth, deep voice starts singing the words I’m reading.

A picture is worth a thousand words,

But my thousand words slice deeper.

What doesn’t kill us makes us stronger,

Fuck that. I’ve become a hide and seeker.

Treat others how you want to be treated,

But what if tonight I want to be burned?

You told us it’s better to be safe than sorry,

And little sister listened, but I was the one who learned.

Reap, reap, reap, you don’t even know,

All you did suffer is what you did sow!

Necessitate, medicate, eradicate, resuscitate.

Swallow your Pearls, but for me it was too late.

Do better, be more, too many, too much,

I’m about to fucking choke, I can’t force it down.

So string up the little Wisdoms and wrap them ‘round my neck,

I’ll strangle myself with your Pearls of Wisdom and die a wreck.

The lyrics ring a bell. I repeat them in my head. Reap, reap, reap, you don’t even know…

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