Tears Through The Glass:: 001
fanfiction:: ronnie radke and max green(escape the fate)
dont own, the only true part of this is that ronnie might be going to jail....
the show must go on.....
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Tears Through The Glass
-max's pov-
It was a Tuesday afternoon, about 3:30, when my phone rang. I was sitting in bed, watching Queen of The Damned when I got the call. "Hello?", I asked and turned the volume down on the t.v, waiting for a response. "Hello?Max?", the answer sent shivers down my spine. I recognized that voice, the voice that used to drive girls crazy, the voice that killed lyrics to My Apocalypse.... Ronnie's voice.
"Ronnie? W-what's wrong?", I answered and heard him sigh from the other line. "Max, uh, can you come down and see me? I'm at the Clark County Detention Center. I don't wanna fight with you, I just need to talk", he replied and I bit my lip ring.
"Ok. I'll be there in a little bit. Later", I said rushingly and hung up.
Holy fuck, Ronnie's going to jail. My mind flooded with thoughts, this guy was my best friend. 'Was' being the keyword.
I threw on my shoes and a black hoodie and quickly got in my car. On the way, all I could think about was how long it had been since I had seen Ronnie. We were best fucking friends, we were all we had in the world, we were always together...ever since high school.
I knew how tough it was for him to grow up without a mom, 'cause my mom was never home either.
I took the 15 minute drive through the city and made it to the outskirts of town, a little bit south of some town named Summerlin. I heard Panic At The Disco was from there.
The big grey building looked intimidating and I took a deep breath. I'd never been in jail, no one in the band had ever been in jail, but we had been close one time or another. I never thought Ronnie would end up like this.
I got out of the car, walked into the lobby, where I saw a tall blond chick sitting in the chair behind a cherry wood desk.
"How can I help you?", she asked bitterly and I sighed, leaning against the tall desk.
"I'm here to see Ronald Radke", I replied, while she chewed on her pinky nail. "You're from Escape The Fate, huh?", the blond broad questioned and I nodded, irritatedly.
"Can I just see Ronald?", I shot back and she picked up a phone that was by her coffee mug.
"Yeah, Charlie? We got a visitor for Radke. He's Max Green. Allright", she said into the reciever and hung up.
"Allright, go through that door. A guy named Charlie will tell ya where to go."
I looked at the door, a heavy metal door that reminded me of a meat locker. I got my keys off the desk and walked towards it, knocking loudly.
The door swung open and a bald guy in a black shirt and blue dress pants stood next to me. "Well?", he shot and I scampered into the room.
There were warning signs about what you could and couldn't bring into the visiting room and how to act and a lot of other stuff. "Sit here. I'll bring him in", Charlie answered and pointed to a green chair in front of a glass(well, plastic)window thing. I sat down and fumbled with my keys, waiting and waiting and waiting for what seemed like years.
"Where do I sit?", I heard a voice ask and Ronnie was shoved into a chair on the other side of the glass. He pointed to the phone next to the window and I picked it up slowly. "Hey Max", he whispered and stared at me with a sad smile on his face. "Hi Ronnie", I said back and looked at him, taking in all of his features. His eyeliner was missing and his hair wasn't straight and his eyes looked puffy and his nose ring was gone.
"So, what's it like in here?", I asked and he sighed.
"It sucks. It's like juvie hall, only with older guys and meaner guards. My hearing's tomorrow morning. I'm fucking scared. Heh, for the first time in my life, I'm so scared I could almost cry Max", Ronnie said and I bit my lip to keep it from shaking.
"I know you're scared. I would be too, man. So, uh, I had an interview with some magazine yesterday. They asked me all kinds of questions about you. And you know the part that really hurt the most?", I gulped and he nodded. "What was it?", he muttered.
"They asked me if we were still best friends. I didn't know what to say, so I only said one thing, 'I love Ronnie to death'", I admitted and felt a slight tingle in my eyes. Oh shit, no, I can't cry. Not in front of Ronnie.
He smiled and looked down at his tattoos. "I love you too, Max", he replied.
I looked down and felt a wet spot on my nose. Fuck, I was crying. I hadn't cried in so long, it was like I was seeing water turn into wine. I was shocked that I could still cry.
-ronnie's pov-
Max wouldn't look up so I tried to get him to talk to me.
"Max? Hey, Max? Dude, look at me, you're freakin' me out", I whispered and he looked up slowly.
He had tears on his nose and on his cheeks, and the sight tore my heart in two. I'd never seen Max cry, even when his dad would beat the living shit out of him when we were in high school.
I could see his tears through the glass, and I felt sick for making my best friend cry.
"I'm sorry", he said and wiped the tears away on his hoodie sleeve. "No, you have nothing to be sorry for. I'm sorry, Max. I'm sorry I made the other guys leave the band, I'm sorry I hate Craig, I'm sorry I violated my probation, and I'm sorry I'm making you cry", I apoligized and he stared at me through the scratched glass.
I put my left hand to the glass and Max put his hand on mine. He wasn't crying anymore, but he was still sad.
"Radke! Hands off the glass! Times up!", Charlie yelled and Max and I pulled our hands away. I picked up the phone and motioned for him to pick it up too.
"Yeah?", Max whispered and I looked at his eyes. "I love you, Max", I said and he smiled, eyes welling up with tears.
"I l-love you too, Ronnie", he answered and Charlie got me up off the chair harshly. He snapped the cuffs back onto my wrists and I took one last good look at Max. He was standing up, zipping up his hoodie and waving at me limply.
And just like that, he was gone.
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well, did u like it? hate it? let me know! Oh and I'll be bringing all my stories from FanDomination onto here!
until next time
-Nini*Way