(no subject)
Title- In the end, it wasn’t what you thought it would be
Author- ForeverYours311
Rating- R (Bloody murder, cursing, hinted sex)
Pairing- Matt/Miah, mentions of Tony/Quinn Allman, Matty/Miah
Summary- You remember laughing, at how it always seems to rain in movies when the killer is fleeing the scene of the crime. And you are laughing now, as the rain pours over you, and you see the cliché, famous murderer, and a famous murder, rain and street lights like every other movie, every novel, every picture you saw, and now yours can be added to the list.
Warnings- Bloody murder…
Umm, just to put it out there, I am unable to reach my old beta, so if anyone is willing to beta some things for me, I would be very happy
You were standing under a street light, on a dark street as the rain washes the red that stained your clothes, as it washed over your hair cleaning it of all he left on you, and you could see the water that came off your hands tinted that color that you have been seeing all night. That’s what you remember, almost all you remember at first, that it was red. Red, red like fire-No. Maybe it was red like the chipped paint that adorned your childhood bedroom? No not even that. You would say red like blood, but it wasn’t even that red. It was that color you get when you leave a tomato in the sun to long and it starts to turn slightly brown, the color that stains your pant knees after you skinned them, almost mud, but still red. It was red like… like life, yes that color you see flash in front of you when your eyes just open on a sunny morning and you aren’t quite sure if you can take the sun yet; still more asleep then awake.
You remember laughing, at how it always seems to rain in movies when the killer is fleeing the scene of the crime. And you are laughing now, as the rain pours over you, and you see the cliché, famous murderer, and a famous murder, rain and street lights like every other movie, every novel, every picture you saw, and now yours can be added to the list. You looked up at the sky and you laughed, you fucking laughed as your lead singers blood ran off your body, and into the storm drain, as the moon shown down on you, and as the street light flickered, hell can it get anymore fucking cliché. Oh wait it can, you didn’t kill your girlfriend, that’s the only thing that could get this scene straight off the silver screen, but you did kill for your girlfriend, expect your girlfriend was a boy, and best friends with the body you just dumped at a construction site. You laugh again, construction site, you just jumped from regular off the street killer to mafia hit man, again hiding the body in the place most seen in mafia movies, maybe it’s the Italian in you showing though, hell Tony always said there was a Lovato mafia, maybe you just joined the elites.
You are sitting on the couch, beer in your lap, legs practically spread in your lazy stance, the television is on, some baseball game, scores 3 to 4, and you couldn’t careless who won. The door opens and you hear the springy slightly stumbling drunken steps of the blonde boy well he was blonde that night, it seems to change more often then you can keep track, he had been out all night, getting trashed with that Madden boy, the one from Good Charlotte, you have always pretended to like him, truth be told you found him as irritating as your irate cousin.
You smile and take a swing of your beer, calling back to him, asking if he needs some help getting to bed, or the aspirin. He said he would be fine, he had made this same trip; drunken through the house many times, and god did you know that was right. He tripped and cursed under his breath, and again you laughed- to yourself of course, wouldn’t want him to know you are relishing in his pain. You hear him go upstairs, and you smile for like the millionth time that night cause you know he’s going to take the pills in the bottle in his room, the ones he keeps there so he can sleep off his hangovers without waking up from headaches every few minutes, but what he doesn’t know just might get him in the end. Those little gel capsules, that he thinks contain his pain pills, the ones he had left over from back surgery, but are now his hangovers best friend, well they aren’t filled with ibuprophen anymore, you smile and take a long drink just thinking of it. They are filled with cyanide.
You know what they are thinking, cold heartless bitch that poisons a half drunken Lovato, but it’s not that simple. He was ruining your fucking life, Miah’s fucking life too. You smile, thinking of Miah, Jere-a-miah, the only thing that could undoubtedly make you smile no matter what. He was perfect, minus the smoking thing which drove you nuts, hell you’d smoke weed but cigarettes they drove you insane. You looked at him as if he had a glowing fucking hallo, that he was an angel, even if you knew full well he wasn’t, but his faults made you love him even more. But back to why I went with the cyanide, rather then a therapist or something. He was a menace, he was always coming home drunk off his ass, smelling like sex, you even caught him fucking in your bunk once, it was actually kind of funny, he like has a list of all the pretty boys he wants to get his dick into, and when you walked in the look in Quinn’s eyes damn you thought he might have just died right there, guess he didn’t want anyone to know about his fetishes. You laugh again remembering the sight, Quinn Allman tied to the posts that held the bunks up, and a shining piece of duct tape across his mouth, getting fucked as he whimpered but enjoyed every second; you remember how you smiled, cause that was a sight you jerked off to in your mind a few good times-you always knew Quinn was a bottom boy, to pretty not to be.
But you are getting off topic now aren’t you, so back to the dead body laying in the upstairs bedroom. You would do anything for Jeremiah, anything and when he started complaining about Tony, you started thinking, thinking about getting rid of him, to make your Miah happy. You would do anything to make your Miah happy. You remember all the things Miah said about him.
”Tony gets all the attention its not fair to us”
”how come everyone looks at Tony during shows, there are 4 of us not just him”
”that fucker, how many times are you going to let him stumble in here drunk”
“how come they all love him, he’s such a fucking whore, Not to mention a fucking druggie”
Then he said it the one that made your blood boil, the one that made you just have to get rid of him after this there was nothing else you could do.
”You know, I think I might be next on Tony’s list, a few nights ago when we were talking, he was like inching closer to me, and leaning in, I swear I thought he was going to fucking kiss me, but he was drunk, I am not sure he meant it.”
He was trying to fuck your boyfriend, the one person you cared about more then anything, you remember looking at Jere when he said that, and you must have looked so angry because Miah; he just kissed you quickly and said he would never do that to you, that he loved you. But you knew, no one could say no to a Lovato, no one, and Miah well he wasn’t going to be the first.
You got impatient, not knowing if he took the pills or not that is, so you got up, and slowly but surely made your way up to the bedroom. You pushed the door open in that stalker way the kind that made no sound as the door opened on its usually creaky hinges. And that’s when you saw it, Tony Lovato, the Tony Lovato that always had something stupid and bitchy to say, dead on the floor of his own bedroom. You knew a bit about cyanide and you felt that smile creep onto your face again as you thought of how he must have died. As the capsules opened in his stomach and the poison seeped out, being picked up by his blood stream were it started working, cutting off all nerve cells and transmitters, he would collapse not being able to control his muscles, soon his breathing would stop, not being able to make his lungs expand and take in air, his heart is what would kill him, as it stopped, the muscles no longer listening to their usual order to never stop. He wouldn’t even know what hit him, just dead on the floor never to get up again.
You looked around, not quite sure what to do next. If the police came and saw him dead, cyanide as the culprit, they would question everyone, and you would be caught at one point or another. So you wrapped his body up in his own sheet and pulled him down the stairs, laughing as you let his body fall down the stairs picking up the butcher knife from the kitchen as well as 4 garbage bags, you laid him out on the tile floor and surveyed the body, and you couldn’t help but think he was beautiful even dead he was beautiful.
You twirled the knife a few times before bringing it down, cutting off his hands first, putting them in one bag, taking his feet and doing the same, right in with the hands, tying that bag shut you stood up and looking down at him again, bleeding slowly over the sheet and floor. You leaned down again getting on your knees in the blood that was beginning to surround him, and started cutting again this time at the base of his arm, but when you reached bone you knew that knife wasn’t going to do it, so you threw it in the sink and went out to the backyard. Pulling the ax out of the piece of wood where you cut the logs for the fire, and looked at it you knew that would get the job done. So you went inside and raised it above your head, bringing it down on the corpse watching how easily the arm fell away as you did the same to the other, feeling the fresh blood splatter against your face and torso, you did the same to the legs, cutting them in half again before throwing them in a bag too. You smiled as you tied that bag shut as well throwing it next to the other one. Titling his head back to get a better angel to his neck and holding the ax once again above your head bringing it down and watching his head fall from his body, picking it up by the hair and looking at it, blood falling out onto the floor and sheet staining it even darker then it was, you threw it in a bag as well, before folding his torso and putting it in the last of the bags. You washed off the ax in the sink as well as the knife, before tossing the ax back into the backyard. You picked up the sheet and threw it into the fire that was already burning letting it burn away all that was left, you wiped down the floor before picking up the bags and taking them outside, throwing them into the back of the pick up truck you used to swear you would never have a use for and pulling away from the house you just committed the single act you would never be able to sweet talk yourself into being right.
You drove and drove, you must have been at least 4 towns away by the time you stopped, in front of the construction site were you think they were building a new office building or something and you took each of the 4 bags and dropped them into different areas of wet cement, watching the cement swallow them and make them part of it. The people that work there will never know how the body of the young star was worked into the structure. You looked at it once more, the final resting place of the obnoxious over arrogant, bitch of a man that never grew up, and never knew when to quit. It was raining hard and you just stood there under the street light as the rain cleansed the last traces of him from your body.
You remember going home and walking in to Miah on the couch, he asked you were you were, and you said you dropped Tony off at some club. He stood up and kissed you quickly before starting to go towards the stairs.
”I think I am going to head to bed early; I was working my ass off today, Nick needed help moving into his new house.” He kissed you again before starting to go up the stairs “Oh and can you wake me up when Tony gets home, I need to apologize for some of the shit I said to him before, thanks.”
You freaked, you didn’t think he would mind that Tony was gone; you were planning on telling him what you did. He had said he hated him, and he couldn’t stand him, but now you were worried, maybe he was just mad, Tony used to be his best friend besides you. You hid it from him, you hid everything you did, what happened to Tony he would never have to know. The police started coming, asking about Tony’s disappearance, turns out Miah called missing persons when Tony didn’t come home for a week. You tried to convince him Tony just left; Tony had been gone for long periods of time before but never without calling, so Jere called anyway. One day you turned on the news, and saw a story about them finding a body in a building a few towns over, they told how the body was chopped up, and in bags and your heart raced, and that after dental records and DNA tests it was found to be Tony Lovato, long missing lead singer for MEST, and you would have sworn you felt your heart skip a beat. Before you knew it you and Miah were sitting side by side in a police interrogation room.
”Mr. Rangel do you remember anything of the night Mr. Anthony Lovato disappeared?” The gruff voice officer asked your boyfriend, as you held his hand tight under the table.
”Umm… I remember, I was helping Nick, he’s in our band, or was in our band, I don’t think we can go on without Tony. Well back to what I was saying” He wiped his eyes and held your hand tighter as you put you other arm around him, whispering that we could leave if he wanted, he shook his head, and kissed your cheek. “I was helping Nick move boxes and unpack, see he was moving into a new apartment. Well when I got home, no one was there, and the car was gone, so I just sat around and waited, see I don’t go to bed alone I just never got used to it so I was waiting for him to come home” He gestures over at you “about an hour later I heard the car pull up and door open but it wasn’t Tony, only him” Again he made a little gesture towards you and you held him closer as you saw his eyes begin to well up “We went to bed, and when I woke up Tony still wasn’t home, so I asked were he was, and I was told He had dropped Tony off at the club up on 40th street last night, and he was supposed to have gotten a ride home. So the last one that saw him had to have been Matt--…” And right then his hand let go of yours and he glanced over at you eyes tear laden, and you knew it wasn’t what he wanted
Author- ForeverYours311
Rating- R (Bloody murder, cursing, hinted sex)
Pairing- Matt/Miah, mentions of Tony/Quinn Allman, Matty/Miah
Summary- You remember laughing, at how it always seems to rain in movies when the killer is fleeing the scene of the crime. And you are laughing now, as the rain pours over you, and you see the cliché, famous murderer, and a famous murder, rain and street lights like every other movie, every novel, every picture you saw, and now yours can be added to the list.
Warnings- Bloody murder…
Umm, just to put it out there, I am unable to reach my old beta, so if anyone is willing to beta some things for me, I would be very happy
You were standing under a street light, on a dark street as the rain washes the red that stained your clothes, as it washed over your hair cleaning it of all he left on you, and you could see the water that came off your hands tinted that color that you have been seeing all night. That’s what you remember, almost all you remember at first, that it was red. Red, red like fire-No. Maybe it was red like the chipped paint that adorned your childhood bedroom? No not even that. You would say red like blood, but it wasn’t even that red. It was that color you get when you leave a tomato in the sun to long and it starts to turn slightly brown, the color that stains your pant knees after you skinned them, almost mud, but still red. It was red like… like life, yes that color you see flash in front of you when your eyes just open on a sunny morning and you aren’t quite sure if you can take the sun yet; still more asleep then awake.
You remember laughing, at how it always seems to rain in movies when the killer is fleeing the scene of the crime. And you are laughing now, as the rain pours over you, and you see the cliché, famous murderer, and a famous murder, rain and street lights like every other movie, every novel, every picture you saw, and now yours can be added to the list. You looked up at the sky and you laughed, you fucking laughed as your lead singers blood ran off your body, and into the storm drain, as the moon shown down on you, and as the street light flickered, hell can it get anymore fucking cliché. Oh wait it can, you didn’t kill your girlfriend, that’s the only thing that could get this scene straight off the silver screen, but you did kill for your girlfriend, expect your girlfriend was a boy, and best friends with the body you just dumped at a construction site. You laugh again, construction site, you just jumped from regular off the street killer to mafia hit man, again hiding the body in the place most seen in mafia movies, maybe it’s the Italian in you showing though, hell Tony always said there was a Lovato mafia, maybe you just joined the elites.
You are sitting on the couch, beer in your lap, legs practically spread in your lazy stance, the television is on, some baseball game, scores 3 to 4, and you couldn’t careless who won. The door opens and you hear the springy slightly stumbling drunken steps of the blonde boy well he was blonde that night, it seems to change more often then you can keep track, he had been out all night, getting trashed with that Madden boy, the one from Good Charlotte, you have always pretended to like him, truth be told you found him as irritating as your irate cousin.
You smile and take a swing of your beer, calling back to him, asking if he needs some help getting to bed, or the aspirin. He said he would be fine, he had made this same trip; drunken through the house many times, and god did you know that was right. He tripped and cursed under his breath, and again you laughed- to yourself of course, wouldn’t want him to know you are relishing in his pain. You hear him go upstairs, and you smile for like the millionth time that night cause you know he’s going to take the pills in the bottle in his room, the ones he keeps there so he can sleep off his hangovers without waking up from headaches every few minutes, but what he doesn’t know just might get him in the end. Those little gel capsules, that he thinks contain his pain pills, the ones he had left over from back surgery, but are now his hangovers best friend, well they aren’t filled with ibuprophen anymore, you smile and take a long drink just thinking of it. They are filled with cyanide.
You know what they are thinking, cold heartless bitch that poisons a half drunken Lovato, but it’s not that simple. He was ruining your fucking life, Miah’s fucking life too. You smile, thinking of Miah, Jere-a-miah, the only thing that could undoubtedly make you smile no matter what. He was perfect, minus the smoking thing which drove you nuts, hell you’d smoke weed but cigarettes they drove you insane. You looked at him as if he had a glowing fucking hallo, that he was an angel, even if you knew full well he wasn’t, but his faults made you love him even more. But back to why I went with the cyanide, rather then a therapist or something. He was a menace, he was always coming home drunk off his ass, smelling like sex, you even caught him fucking in your bunk once, it was actually kind of funny, he like has a list of all the pretty boys he wants to get his dick into, and when you walked in the look in Quinn’s eyes damn you thought he might have just died right there, guess he didn’t want anyone to know about his fetishes. You laugh again remembering the sight, Quinn Allman tied to the posts that held the bunks up, and a shining piece of duct tape across his mouth, getting fucked as he whimpered but enjoyed every second; you remember how you smiled, cause that was a sight you jerked off to in your mind a few good times-you always knew Quinn was a bottom boy, to pretty not to be.
But you are getting off topic now aren’t you, so back to the dead body laying in the upstairs bedroom. You would do anything for Jeremiah, anything and when he started complaining about Tony, you started thinking, thinking about getting rid of him, to make your Miah happy. You would do anything to make your Miah happy. You remember all the things Miah said about him.
”Tony gets all the attention its not fair to us”
”how come everyone looks at Tony during shows, there are 4 of us not just him”
”that fucker, how many times are you going to let him stumble in here drunk”
“how come they all love him, he’s such a fucking whore, Not to mention a fucking druggie”
Then he said it the one that made your blood boil, the one that made you just have to get rid of him after this there was nothing else you could do.
”You know, I think I might be next on Tony’s list, a few nights ago when we were talking, he was like inching closer to me, and leaning in, I swear I thought he was going to fucking kiss me, but he was drunk, I am not sure he meant it.”
He was trying to fuck your boyfriend, the one person you cared about more then anything, you remember looking at Jere when he said that, and you must have looked so angry because Miah; he just kissed you quickly and said he would never do that to you, that he loved you. But you knew, no one could say no to a Lovato, no one, and Miah well he wasn’t going to be the first.
You got impatient, not knowing if he took the pills or not that is, so you got up, and slowly but surely made your way up to the bedroom. You pushed the door open in that stalker way the kind that made no sound as the door opened on its usually creaky hinges. And that’s when you saw it, Tony Lovato, the Tony Lovato that always had something stupid and bitchy to say, dead on the floor of his own bedroom. You knew a bit about cyanide and you felt that smile creep onto your face again as you thought of how he must have died. As the capsules opened in his stomach and the poison seeped out, being picked up by his blood stream were it started working, cutting off all nerve cells and transmitters, he would collapse not being able to control his muscles, soon his breathing would stop, not being able to make his lungs expand and take in air, his heart is what would kill him, as it stopped, the muscles no longer listening to their usual order to never stop. He wouldn’t even know what hit him, just dead on the floor never to get up again.
You looked around, not quite sure what to do next. If the police came and saw him dead, cyanide as the culprit, they would question everyone, and you would be caught at one point or another. So you wrapped his body up in his own sheet and pulled him down the stairs, laughing as you let his body fall down the stairs picking up the butcher knife from the kitchen as well as 4 garbage bags, you laid him out on the tile floor and surveyed the body, and you couldn’t help but think he was beautiful even dead he was beautiful.
You twirled the knife a few times before bringing it down, cutting off his hands first, putting them in one bag, taking his feet and doing the same, right in with the hands, tying that bag shut you stood up and looking down at him again, bleeding slowly over the sheet and floor. You leaned down again getting on your knees in the blood that was beginning to surround him, and started cutting again this time at the base of his arm, but when you reached bone you knew that knife wasn’t going to do it, so you threw it in the sink and went out to the backyard. Pulling the ax out of the piece of wood where you cut the logs for the fire, and looked at it you knew that would get the job done. So you went inside and raised it above your head, bringing it down on the corpse watching how easily the arm fell away as you did the same to the other, feeling the fresh blood splatter against your face and torso, you did the same to the legs, cutting them in half again before throwing them in a bag too. You smiled as you tied that bag shut as well throwing it next to the other one. Titling his head back to get a better angel to his neck and holding the ax once again above your head bringing it down and watching his head fall from his body, picking it up by the hair and looking at it, blood falling out onto the floor and sheet staining it even darker then it was, you threw it in a bag as well, before folding his torso and putting it in the last of the bags. You washed off the ax in the sink as well as the knife, before tossing the ax back into the backyard. You picked up the sheet and threw it into the fire that was already burning letting it burn away all that was left, you wiped down the floor before picking up the bags and taking them outside, throwing them into the back of the pick up truck you used to swear you would never have a use for and pulling away from the house you just committed the single act you would never be able to sweet talk yourself into being right.
You drove and drove, you must have been at least 4 towns away by the time you stopped, in front of the construction site were you think they were building a new office building or something and you took each of the 4 bags and dropped them into different areas of wet cement, watching the cement swallow them and make them part of it. The people that work there will never know how the body of the young star was worked into the structure. You looked at it once more, the final resting place of the obnoxious over arrogant, bitch of a man that never grew up, and never knew when to quit. It was raining hard and you just stood there under the street light as the rain cleansed the last traces of him from your body.
You remember going home and walking in to Miah on the couch, he asked you were you were, and you said you dropped Tony off at some club. He stood up and kissed you quickly before starting to go towards the stairs.
”I think I am going to head to bed early; I was working my ass off today, Nick needed help moving into his new house.” He kissed you again before starting to go up the stairs “Oh and can you wake me up when Tony gets home, I need to apologize for some of the shit I said to him before, thanks.”
You freaked, you didn’t think he would mind that Tony was gone; you were planning on telling him what you did. He had said he hated him, and he couldn’t stand him, but now you were worried, maybe he was just mad, Tony used to be his best friend besides you. You hid it from him, you hid everything you did, what happened to Tony he would never have to know. The police started coming, asking about Tony’s disappearance, turns out Miah called missing persons when Tony didn’t come home for a week. You tried to convince him Tony just left; Tony had been gone for long periods of time before but never without calling, so Jere called anyway. One day you turned on the news, and saw a story about them finding a body in a building a few towns over, they told how the body was chopped up, and in bags and your heart raced, and that after dental records and DNA tests it was found to be Tony Lovato, long missing lead singer for MEST, and you would have sworn you felt your heart skip a beat. Before you knew it you and Miah were sitting side by side in a police interrogation room.
”Mr. Rangel do you remember anything of the night Mr. Anthony Lovato disappeared?” The gruff voice officer asked your boyfriend, as you held his hand tight under the table.
”Umm… I remember, I was helping Nick, he’s in our band, or was in our band, I don’t think we can go on without Tony. Well back to what I was saying” He wiped his eyes and held your hand tighter as you put you other arm around him, whispering that we could leave if he wanted, he shook his head, and kissed your cheek. “I was helping Nick move boxes and unpack, see he was moving into a new apartment. Well when I got home, no one was there, and the car was gone, so I just sat around and waited, see I don’t go to bed alone I just never got used to it so I was waiting for him to come home” He gestures over at you “about an hour later I heard the car pull up and door open but it wasn’t Tony, only him” Again he made a little gesture towards you and you held him closer as you saw his eyes begin to well up “We went to bed, and when I woke up Tony still wasn’t home, so I asked were he was, and I was told He had dropped Tony off at the club up on 40th street last night, and he was supposed to have gotten a ride home. So the last one that saw him had to have been Matt--…” And right then his hand let go of yours and he glanced over at you eyes tear laden, and you knew it wasn’t what he wanted