"Crawling Backwards" Chapter Ten
Title: Crawling Backwards
Author: xxShilaleighxx
Fandom: Music/VAM
Summery: Ville is in love with Bam, but Bam only loves Ville when he’s drunk. By morning it’s forgotten and Bam goes on to believe that they’re still just friends. Ville puts up with it for his love, but it’s slowly killing him inside.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Pairing: VAM…eventually.
Rating: NC-17 in some parts…but generally it’s R
Previous Chapters Behind the Cut
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Three months. Three months had passed since I last saw Bam Margera. He never called me back like he promised, and I never made the effort to contact him. If I wasn’t worth his time, then he wasn’t worth mine.
We completed the album on time, barely. I wasn’t proud of the work-in fact, it was probably our worst album to date. I threw together most of the songs on a whim, desperately trying to meet the deadline. Seppo was happy, though, just to have material to send in to the record companies.
We were lounging in a combined hotel suite somewhere outside of Hoboken, New Jersey. Large portions of alcohol were being passed between us as we shared idle talk about the tour-passed gigs, upcoming gigs, set-lists, lighting, fans. Linde smiled at me as I wrenched the Yager from his hand and put the bottle to my lips.
“Our next gig is in Philly,” Mige commented offhand, seeming to turn to me to gauge my response.
“What of it?” I scoffed, knocking back another swig before passing the bottle on.
He gave me that all-knowing look that I hated. It made me feel as though I had no secrets to myself anymore, as if my life was an open book than anyone could leaf through. “Just wondering if you knew; that’s all.”
“I could really care less.” He stared at me for a moment before changing the subject. He wanted to ask if I was planning on meeting Bam that night, but thankfully he was smart enough to let the topic drop.
“We should play a drinking game!” Burton shouted a few minutes later, wiping at a thin line of saliva that dribbled down his chin.
I glanced at him sideways, the room spinning slightly. “I think it’s time for me to retire for the evening. Someone wake me up early tomorrow, last time I nearly missed the bus.”
I stood to leave before they could say anything, but I felt all of their eyes on my back as I walked to my bedroom. I made sure the door was locked before climbing into bed. The stop tomorrow plagued my mind and I tried to ignore it, but no matter how hard I tried Bam’s face continued to haunt me.
~*~
When I said to be woken early, I meant early enough to pack my things and go. There was a pounding on my door at seven-thirty, the sun barely peeking over the horizon as I pushed back the sheets and moved to answer it. The light from the main room caused me to stumble and it was then that I realized I had a blinding hangover.
“You said you wanted up early,” Linde smiled.
“What the fuck are you doing up at this hour?” I scrunched my eyes up in an attempt to block out the invading light.
He only shrugged and said, “must not’ve drunk enough.”
“Yeah right,” he stood there for a second, as if waiting for me to say more. I just closed the door in his face and crawled back in bed.
I didn’t want to move on to the next gig, I wanted to stay here and let the bed sheets swallow me whole. Maybe if I buried myself deep enough I could get lost. I was one step away from telling Seppo that I came down with a bad cold, but I knew he would just reschedule the show for a later date. It was best to get it over with.
Willing my headache to go away, and scowling when it didn’t, I pulled myself from the comfortable bed and began packing.
~*~
It was an hour and thirty-four minute drive from Hoboken to Philadelphia. An hour and thirty-four minutes on a bus with smiling people trying to rip my soul apart. Don’t get me wrong, I loved my band mates. But there are times when a person just needs everyone to shut the fuck up for one minute. That was one of those times. I needed to think, but the frenzied conversations were too distracting.
“The show tonight’s gonna’ go off without a hitch,” someone cheered, and I looked over to see that it was Gas, his legs propped up on the fold-up table and his hands drumming out a fast beat. Mige nodded and cracked open a beer, to his left Burton and Linde were fighting over an Xbox game.
Every once in a while someone would toss a comment my way, but it felt like I wasn’t a part of their conversation. I felt out of place, out of time-I felt like I didn’t belong with them in that bus.
The vehicle lurched to a halt somewhere in northern Pennsylvania, another numerous stop for gas. It felt like the whole world stopped with the bus, screeching to a blinding halt until there was nothing there but me-standing alone while everything else was frozen in time. Linde and Burton were frozen, Burton’s finger in the blonde’s face as golden dreadlocks stopped stationary in the air. Gas was sitting with one hand raised in the middle of a drum beat and Mige was bringing his beer to his lips, a tiny drop of amber bliss slipping from the cans edge.
I blinked-the motion slow and languid, blurring the lines between what was real and what was in my mind. Mige waved a big hand in front of my face before snapping his fingers and calling my name.
“Did you hear a word I just said?” he laughed, taking another sip of his beer when my eyes shot to him.
All I could manage was a shake of my head. He smiled and rolled his eyes before repeating himself. Again I wasn’t listening, but I nodded every few seconds and muttered an ‘uh-huh.’ He seemed content with that.
I felt tears pricking at the back of my eyes, but the reason why eluded me. Perhaps I was just tired. But I knew, somewhere deep down, that wasn’t the case.
~*~
Another packed venue in another nameless city. Only this city had a name, and that name brought back memories that I spent the last three months trying to forget.
I peered out at the crowd from behind the thick backstage curtain, mentally muting the screaming fans and scanning the sea of people. A part of me wanted to see him standing there, shoving other fans around in the pit and making an ass of himself as usual. I didn’t complain when I couldn’t find him, but I didn’t rejoice either. I wasn’t sure what I wanted anymore.
The stage manager did a quick countdown before we were pushed onto the stage, the lights almost blinding in their intensity as the screaming of the crowd got louder. I smiled sheepishly at my fans, putting on that mask of charm that I had perfected in the mirror over the years. They screamed even more, hushing only when we jumped into the title track off our new album.
I watched as the mood instantly changed from excitement to reverence, thousands of bodies slowing to move to the pulsating beat. I had them in the palm of my hand-I could make them do anything in the world.
Four songs later I saw him. Standing off to the back, his muscular frame leaning against a pillar, he locked eyes with me as I sang. The words caught in my throat and I stumbled, but I quickly recovered and adverted my gaze. What was he doing here? He made me want to scream, he made me want to throw the mic down and call the whole show off. I glanced back at him one more time, my eyes like fire, before turning and telling Linde to change the set list.
“We’re playing ‘Sigillum Diaboli’.” I shouted to him, my voice loud enough to reach over the crowd but stopping at his ear.
“Why that one?”
So I can scream. So I can tell him how I feel without having to confront him. So I can get rid of this aching feeling in my stomach. “I just want to do that song.”
He nodded and relayed the message to the rest of the band. I gave the crowd the universal sign for ‘hold on’ as they re-tuned their instruments. They obviously weren’t expecting the song, for when the first chord was strung they paused for the briefest of moments before going crazy. Fans loved it when we revisited old classics.
From he back I saw Bam’s head snap to attention. Good.
As I launched into the first verse I finally locked eyes with him, refusing to back down this time. The song gave me strength that I didn’t have before. He stared back defiantly, and even in the distance I could see the pain in his eyes. It hurt me, but in the same sense it felt amazing.
“And I kill myself for your love, I’m killing myself for you” I sang louder than usual, directing the words at him. He knew what I was trying to do; he knew that I was pissed. As Linde kicked into a smashing guitar solo, I took a deep breath and carried off into the rest of the song.
The last lines were laced with so much raw emotion that it made my throat hurt. I screamed the last line for as long as I could hold it before backing away from the mic and grinning. He stared for another moment, his eyes scanning mine for an answer to an unasked question, and then he ran. I almost laughed as he faded into the back of the club, his body molding with those around him.
~*~
“What was all that about?” Burton asked as we walked from the stage, sweat glistening of our skin and Linde shedding his shirt.
“What?” I asked innocently, shrugging my shoulders and keeping my back to him. “I’m going outside for a cigarette.”
There was a back door that lead to the main street, and I was grateful that the fans hadn’t figured out I would come that way. I needed to be alone.
The adrenaline from the show still coursed through my system as I light my cigarette and took a long drag. The look on Bam’s face gave me a sense of accomplishment that I hadn’t felt in a long while. I wanted him to go home and think about the meaning behind it, I wanted him to realize his mistakes and cry over his loss. For he had lost, I had won. The game was over.
As I moved to stub out my cigarette, I heard the door open behind me. My whole body tensed as a familiar voice spoke.
“Ville, we need to talk.”
~*~
You like? You hate? Let me know in a lovely comment!
Author: xxShilaleighxx
Fandom: Music/VAM
Summery: Ville is in love with Bam, but Bam only loves Ville when he’s drunk. By morning it’s forgotten and Bam goes on to believe that they’re still just friends. Ville puts up with it for his love, but it’s slowly killing him inside.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Pairing: VAM…eventually.
Rating: NC-17 in some parts…but generally it’s R
Previous Chapters Behind the Cut
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Three months. Three months had passed since I last saw Bam Margera. He never called me back like he promised, and I never made the effort to contact him. If I wasn’t worth his time, then he wasn’t worth mine.
We completed the album on time, barely. I wasn’t proud of the work-in fact, it was probably our worst album to date. I threw together most of the songs on a whim, desperately trying to meet the deadline. Seppo was happy, though, just to have material to send in to the record companies.
We were lounging in a combined hotel suite somewhere outside of Hoboken, New Jersey. Large portions of alcohol were being passed between us as we shared idle talk about the tour-passed gigs, upcoming gigs, set-lists, lighting, fans. Linde smiled at me as I wrenched the Yager from his hand and put the bottle to my lips.
“Our next gig is in Philly,” Mige commented offhand, seeming to turn to me to gauge my response.
“What of it?” I scoffed, knocking back another swig before passing the bottle on.
He gave me that all-knowing look that I hated. It made me feel as though I had no secrets to myself anymore, as if my life was an open book than anyone could leaf through. “Just wondering if you knew; that’s all.”
“I could really care less.” He stared at me for a moment before changing the subject. He wanted to ask if I was planning on meeting Bam that night, but thankfully he was smart enough to let the topic drop.
“We should play a drinking game!” Burton shouted a few minutes later, wiping at a thin line of saliva that dribbled down his chin.
I glanced at him sideways, the room spinning slightly. “I think it’s time for me to retire for the evening. Someone wake me up early tomorrow, last time I nearly missed the bus.”
I stood to leave before they could say anything, but I felt all of their eyes on my back as I walked to my bedroom. I made sure the door was locked before climbing into bed. The stop tomorrow plagued my mind and I tried to ignore it, but no matter how hard I tried Bam’s face continued to haunt me.
~*~
When I said to be woken early, I meant early enough to pack my things and go. There was a pounding on my door at seven-thirty, the sun barely peeking over the horizon as I pushed back the sheets and moved to answer it. The light from the main room caused me to stumble and it was then that I realized I had a blinding hangover.
“You said you wanted up early,” Linde smiled.
“What the fuck are you doing up at this hour?” I scrunched my eyes up in an attempt to block out the invading light.
He only shrugged and said, “must not’ve drunk enough.”
“Yeah right,” he stood there for a second, as if waiting for me to say more. I just closed the door in his face and crawled back in bed.
I didn’t want to move on to the next gig, I wanted to stay here and let the bed sheets swallow me whole. Maybe if I buried myself deep enough I could get lost. I was one step away from telling Seppo that I came down with a bad cold, but I knew he would just reschedule the show for a later date. It was best to get it over with.
Willing my headache to go away, and scowling when it didn’t, I pulled myself from the comfortable bed and began packing.
~*~
It was an hour and thirty-four minute drive from Hoboken to Philadelphia. An hour and thirty-four minutes on a bus with smiling people trying to rip my soul apart. Don’t get me wrong, I loved my band mates. But there are times when a person just needs everyone to shut the fuck up for one minute. That was one of those times. I needed to think, but the frenzied conversations were too distracting.
“The show tonight’s gonna’ go off without a hitch,” someone cheered, and I looked over to see that it was Gas, his legs propped up on the fold-up table and his hands drumming out a fast beat. Mige nodded and cracked open a beer, to his left Burton and Linde were fighting over an Xbox game.
Every once in a while someone would toss a comment my way, but it felt like I wasn’t a part of their conversation. I felt out of place, out of time-I felt like I didn’t belong with them in that bus.
The vehicle lurched to a halt somewhere in northern Pennsylvania, another numerous stop for gas. It felt like the whole world stopped with the bus, screeching to a blinding halt until there was nothing there but me-standing alone while everything else was frozen in time. Linde and Burton were frozen, Burton’s finger in the blonde’s face as golden dreadlocks stopped stationary in the air. Gas was sitting with one hand raised in the middle of a drum beat and Mige was bringing his beer to his lips, a tiny drop of amber bliss slipping from the cans edge.
I blinked-the motion slow and languid, blurring the lines between what was real and what was in my mind. Mige waved a big hand in front of my face before snapping his fingers and calling my name.
“Did you hear a word I just said?” he laughed, taking another sip of his beer when my eyes shot to him.
All I could manage was a shake of my head. He smiled and rolled his eyes before repeating himself. Again I wasn’t listening, but I nodded every few seconds and muttered an ‘uh-huh.’ He seemed content with that.
I felt tears pricking at the back of my eyes, but the reason why eluded me. Perhaps I was just tired. But I knew, somewhere deep down, that wasn’t the case.
~*~
Another packed venue in another nameless city. Only this city had a name, and that name brought back memories that I spent the last three months trying to forget.
I peered out at the crowd from behind the thick backstage curtain, mentally muting the screaming fans and scanning the sea of people. A part of me wanted to see him standing there, shoving other fans around in the pit and making an ass of himself as usual. I didn’t complain when I couldn’t find him, but I didn’t rejoice either. I wasn’t sure what I wanted anymore.
The stage manager did a quick countdown before we were pushed onto the stage, the lights almost blinding in their intensity as the screaming of the crowd got louder. I smiled sheepishly at my fans, putting on that mask of charm that I had perfected in the mirror over the years. They screamed even more, hushing only when we jumped into the title track off our new album.
I watched as the mood instantly changed from excitement to reverence, thousands of bodies slowing to move to the pulsating beat. I had them in the palm of my hand-I could make them do anything in the world.
Four songs later I saw him. Standing off to the back, his muscular frame leaning against a pillar, he locked eyes with me as I sang. The words caught in my throat and I stumbled, but I quickly recovered and adverted my gaze. What was he doing here? He made me want to scream, he made me want to throw the mic down and call the whole show off. I glanced back at him one more time, my eyes like fire, before turning and telling Linde to change the set list.
“We’re playing ‘Sigillum Diaboli’.” I shouted to him, my voice loud enough to reach over the crowd but stopping at his ear.
“Why that one?”
So I can scream. So I can tell him how I feel without having to confront him. So I can get rid of this aching feeling in my stomach. “I just want to do that song.”
He nodded and relayed the message to the rest of the band. I gave the crowd the universal sign for ‘hold on’ as they re-tuned their instruments. They obviously weren’t expecting the song, for when the first chord was strung they paused for the briefest of moments before going crazy. Fans loved it when we revisited old classics.
From he back I saw Bam’s head snap to attention. Good.
As I launched into the first verse I finally locked eyes with him, refusing to back down this time. The song gave me strength that I didn’t have before. He stared back defiantly, and even in the distance I could see the pain in his eyes. It hurt me, but in the same sense it felt amazing.
“And I kill myself for your love, I’m killing myself for you” I sang louder than usual, directing the words at him. He knew what I was trying to do; he knew that I was pissed. As Linde kicked into a smashing guitar solo, I took a deep breath and carried off into the rest of the song.
The last lines were laced with so much raw emotion that it made my throat hurt. I screamed the last line for as long as I could hold it before backing away from the mic and grinning. He stared for another moment, his eyes scanning mine for an answer to an unasked question, and then he ran. I almost laughed as he faded into the back of the club, his body molding with those around him.
~*~
“What was all that about?” Burton asked as we walked from the stage, sweat glistening of our skin and Linde shedding his shirt.
“What?” I asked innocently, shrugging my shoulders and keeping my back to him. “I’m going outside for a cigarette.”
There was a back door that lead to the main street, and I was grateful that the fans hadn’t figured out I would come that way. I needed to be alone.
The adrenaline from the show still coursed through my system as I light my cigarette and took a long drag. The look on Bam’s face gave me a sense of accomplishment that I hadn’t felt in a long while. I wanted him to go home and think about the meaning behind it, I wanted him to realize his mistakes and cry over his loss. For he had lost, I had won. The game was over.
As I moved to stub out my cigarette, I heard the door open behind me. My whole body tensed as a familiar voice spoke.
“Ville, we need to talk.”
~*~
You like? You hate? Let me know in a lovely comment!