knittlewine
in
__vam
New Story: Believe (Prologue)
Author: Knittlewine
Rating: R
Disclaimer: I do not own the people within this story. Nor is any of what is written anything but fiction.
Warnings: Language, violence, use of intoxicants, discussion of intoxicants, forced rehab, anger, angst
Summary: Ville forces Bam into a home remedy rehabilitation, but it's clear Ville can't stand the sight of Bam and isn't helping him from the kindness of his heart.
A/N - Pardon, but this holds a lot for me. 1. I haven't written much for about a year because of college and family, so I apologize if my writing is not up to par. 2. This is to help me get back into the swing of things for my original writing but that does not mean that this story will not be given my all. 3. This story is inspired partly on me being upset at Mr. Margera's latest antics, but it did not fully come into life until I had been left alone to listen to Negative's album Neon. Specifically, the song "Believe". 4. This will be slightly experimental as well, at least for my own writing style, so if it seems a little bumpy, it could also be because of that. I hope that despite my lack of creative energy this past year, this story will at least be entertaining for those who read it.
Also, this is not specifically a romance per se, which I know is prominently what is posted here. It is a complicated love story told through hatred and through the past. I hope my intentions shine through. Thank you for your time.
Despite the sign hanging on the wall that said “NO SMOKING” in big black letters, Bam had a cigar tucked between his lips. The hotel management knew better than to answer any complaints dealing with the skater, though. The first few times had been less then pleasant, landing a young bellhop in the hospital with several stitches. Not that it mattered when you’re Bam-fucking-Margera. They could call the cops, but he’d just grease their palms again and be out at a different hotel by the next morning, maybe sooner. Besides, he didn’t even look at prices for rooms, just tossed a large handful of hundreds over the front counter and said he didn’t want any calls. He tapped the cigar over the edge of the bed, ashes flying off like a bird falling out of the sky.
“Another shot?” One of the girls in the room asked him.
“Psh. Yeah. I’m still alive, aren’t I?” Bam laughed as the blond poured him another double shot. “To your tits!” He said before throwing the fire water down his throat.
The red head to his left giggled. “What about mine?” She fluttered.
He slammed the shot glass down onto the table next to the bed and turned to her. He grabbed one of her breasts and gave it a squeeze.
“I’ll tell you when you’re the one pouring my drink.” He winked and the girl giggled again.
Many shots later, when Bam and the girls in his room were very far beyond drunk, the door to the hallway was kicked in.
~*~*~
“Don’t you fucking lie to me.” Ville hissed, bearing over the front counter at the middle aged man on the other side.
“Sir, please. He’s really not here.” The man was shaking.
“Then why don’t you explain to me,” Ville leaned even further over the desk, his eyes slitting. “, why one of your employees ended up in the hospital after being attacked by him while on duty?”
“I don’t…”
“Do you want to share a room with your bellhop, darling?”
“He’s on the top floor. Room 2403.”
“Finally. You two bellhops will be coming with me.” Ville pointed at two adolescents that were peaking wide eyed from around a corner.
~*~*~
Bam lifted his head up from his pillow. He had been pretty out, but doors slamming always meant bad things. Jackass had proven that again and again. But damn his vision was blurry.
“Hey! This is a private room! You cant be in here!” One of the chicks yelled. There was a loud smack and a thump as something hit the floor.
“Stay out of my way.” A deep voice growled.
“O-okay.”
Bam’s skin erupted in goose bumps. Even in a fog the voice strummed the strings of memories.
“Ville?” Came the quiet drunken slur.
“Get up.” Bam was wretched out of the bed. “You, turn the light on and get his shit. You, help me with him.”
Bam was brought to his feet as the lights switched on and brought a thumping to his head. He let himself be drug for a few seconds as the fog rose and his vision became clear. The red head he had been drinking with was curled in a corner holding her face, crying. The blond was staring from the bed he had been on, gripping the covers tightly. He shook off Ville and the other guy that had hold of him.
“Fuck you!” He swung towards Ville, but somehow ended up just hitting the wall behind Ville. “Shit!” He screamed gripping his hand. As if to drive the point home that he had failed miserably to punch the Finn, Ville slapped him, hard.
“Try that again and I’ll just break your legs.” Ville said.
The hands that drug him were back in place. The room slowly moved out of his vision. It became hallway, then the front lobby, and finally a car that he was roughly thrown into. When the door shut, he saw Ville hand the two bellhops that had been with him a few twenties. He was furious, but obviously too drunk to fight back. A moment later the Finn was in the car with him.
“Buckle up.” He said starting the car.
“Fuck you.”
“Eloquent.” Ville shot him a glare.
Bam huffed, and took his time to stretch the seat belt over him and into the buckle until it clicked. He was silent for awhile. Too angry and drunk to form proper streams of thought. He wasn’t even sure why he was so angry at Ville or why the Finn was so angry at him. He could feel it though. Giant waves of hate were bursting off the skinny male and hitting Bam in the face.
“You’re going to get clean. I don’t care what you’re on or what stupid lies you’ve told yourself to end up like this, but it stops now.” Ville said not taking his eyes off the road.
Bam didn’t reply. He simply scowled staring straight ahead.
“And…” Ville paused slightly casting a glance Bam’s direction. Bam glanced back at him. “…you’ve gotten fat.”
Rating: R
Disclaimer: I do not own the people within this story. Nor is any of what is written anything but fiction.
Warnings: Language, violence, use of intoxicants, discussion of intoxicants, forced rehab, anger, angst
Summary: Ville forces Bam into a home remedy rehabilitation, but it's clear Ville can't stand the sight of Bam and isn't helping him from the kindness of his heart.
A/N - Pardon, but this holds a lot for me. 1. I haven't written much for about a year because of college and family, so I apologize if my writing is not up to par. 2. This is to help me get back into the swing of things for my original writing but that does not mean that this story will not be given my all. 3. This story is inspired partly on me being upset at Mr. Margera's latest antics, but it did not fully come into life until I had been left alone to listen to Negative's album Neon. Specifically, the song "Believe". 4. This will be slightly experimental as well, at least for my own writing style, so if it seems a little bumpy, it could also be because of that. I hope that despite my lack of creative energy this past year, this story will at least be entertaining for those who read it.
Also, this is not specifically a romance per se, which I know is prominently what is posted here. It is a complicated love story told through hatred and through the past. I hope my intentions shine through. Thank you for your time.
Despite the sign hanging on the wall that said “NO SMOKING” in big black letters, Bam had a cigar tucked between his lips. The hotel management knew better than to answer any complaints dealing with the skater, though. The first few times had been less then pleasant, landing a young bellhop in the hospital with several stitches. Not that it mattered when you’re Bam-fucking-Margera. They could call the cops, but he’d just grease their palms again and be out at a different hotel by the next morning, maybe sooner. Besides, he didn’t even look at prices for rooms, just tossed a large handful of hundreds over the front counter and said he didn’t want any calls. He tapped the cigar over the edge of the bed, ashes flying off like a bird falling out of the sky.
“Another shot?” One of the girls in the room asked him.
“Psh. Yeah. I’m still alive, aren’t I?” Bam laughed as the blond poured him another double shot. “To your tits!” He said before throwing the fire water down his throat.
The red head to his left giggled. “What about mine?” She fluttered.
He slammed the shot glass down onto the table next to the bed and turned to her. He grabbed one of her breasts and gave it a squeeze.
“I’ll tell you when you’re the one pouring my drink.” He winked and the girl giggled again.
Many shots later, when Bam and the girls in his room were very far beyond drunk, the door to the hallway was kicked in.
~*~*~
“Don’t you fucking lie to me.” Ville hissed, bearing over the front counter at the middle aged man on the other side.
“Sir, please. He’s really not here.” The man was shaking.
“Then why don’t you explain to me,” Ville leaned even further over the desk, his eyes slitting. “, why one of your employees ended up in the hospital after being attacked by him while on duty?”
“I don’t…”
“Do you want to share a room with your bellhop, darling?”
“He’s on the top floor. Room 2403.”
“Finally. You two bellhops will be coming with me.” Ville pointed at two adolescents that were peaking wide eyed from around a corner.
~*~*~
Bam lifted his head up from his pillow. He had been pretty out, but doors slamming always meant bad things. Jackass had proven that again and again. But damn his vision was blurry.
“Hey! This is a private room! You cant be in here!” One of the chicks yelled. There was a loud smack and a thump as something hit the floor.
“Stay out of my way.” A deep voice growled.
“O-okay.”
Bam’s skin erupted in goose bumps. Even in a fog the voice strummed the strings of memories.
“Ville?” Came the quiet drunken slur.
“Get up.” Bam was wretched out of the bed. “You, turn the light on and get his shit. You, help me with him.”
Bam was brought to his feet as the lights switched on and brought a thumping to his head. He let himself be drug for a few seconds as the fog rose and his vision became clear. The red head he had been drinking with was curled in a corner holding her face, crying. The blond was staring from the bed he had been on, gripping the covers tightly. He shook off Ville and the other guy that had hold of him.
“Fuck you!” He swung towards Ville, but somehow ended up just hitting the wall behind Ville. “Shit!” He screamed gripping his hand. As if to drive the point home that he had failed miserably to punch the Finn, Ville slapped him, hard.
“Try that again and I’ll just break your legs.” Ville said.
The hands that drug him were back in place. The room slowly moved out of his vision. It became hallway, then the front lobby, and finally a car that he was roughly thrown into. When the door shut, he saw Ville hand the two bellhops that had been with him a few twenties. He was furious, but obviously too drunk to fight back. A moment later the Finn was in the car with him.
“Buckle up.” He said starting the car.
“Fuck you.”
“Eloquent.” Ville shot him a glare.
Bam huffed, and took his time to stretch the seat belt over him and into the buckle until it clicked. He was silent for awhile. Too angry and drunk to form proper streams of thought. He wasn’t even sure why he was so angry at Ville or why the Finn was so angry at him. He could feel it though. Giant waves of hate were bursting off the skinny male and hitting Bam in the face.
“You’re going to get clean. I don’t care what you’re on or what stupid lies you’ve told yourself to end up like this, but it stops now.” Ville said not taking his eyes off the road.
Bam didn’t reply. He simply scowled staring straight ahead.
“And…” Ville paused slightly casting a glance Bam’s direction. Bam glanced back at him. “…you’ve gotten fat.”