Chapter 6!
Title: Chemical Elegance
Pairing: Ville and a little OMC, maybe, and VAM eventually
Disclaimer: No ownership. No dominatrix. Yesh. Never happened.
Summary: VAM, Gia Marie Carangi-style. Not a deathfic!!
Warnings: Drug usage, language (some), not too graphic nudity and of course, boys. (haha boys is a warning.)
Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5
*Valo To Walk Runway in New York, Again*
“I’ll be walking next week,” Ville Valo, fashion model said Monday, “It should be fun.”
When we caught up with him, Ville was staying with his boyfriend in--- “BAM!”--- a hotel. The two appeared to be cheerful--- “BAM!”. No word yet on the wedding date, but Valo said it should be soon.
“Sometime soon,” he told us, “I would like a small wedding, without family or friends.”
“BRANDON MARGERA!”
*Bam’s POV*
I slam the magazine shut, and get up from my bed. I know, I know, time to leave for school, oh joy. For a second, I contemplate taking the magazine with me, but I decide not to; if anyone saw me reading this, I’d be the laughingstock of Westchester. Gah.
“BRANDON C. MARGERA, YOU ARE GOING TO BE LATE FOR SCHOOL!”
I roll my eyes, collect my backpack and open my bedroom door. I walk past April in the hallway, down the stairs and out the door. I am gone. I break into a run, down the driveway and onto the street. I keep running.
Suddenly, someone comes out of the trees by the corner, and before I have a chance to stop, we crash, and both fall over backwards. When I get up, I realize it was Ryan, the genius, who I ran into. He collects himself and we start walking together.
“What the hell were you doing in there?” I ask, tiredly. I was up half the night last night, not able to sleep. *Ahem* I was having difficulties ignoring a certain part of my body.
“Nothing,” Ryan says, “Just felt like going in the woods.” He shrugs. Well I certainly believe that.
I change the subject, though. “I hope that one girl isn’t in school today. All I need is another “let’s make babies, Bam” incident, and I’m expelled. Bad enough they’ve confiscated my board. Which still pisses me off, by the way.”
“Well, if you got expelled,” Ryan says as he kicks a rock, “You’d get it back, wouldn’t you?”
“Doubt it.”
I stand in the hallway between fourth and fifth period, locker open, putting my books back. Time for gym class. At least we’ll be doing something fun. I slam the locker shut, and start towards the gym. I go inside, and see that I’m a little late, because there are already two big lines. One girls, the other boys. I jog over to the boys line, and stand next to Raab, who’s smiling like an idiot.
“What are we doing today?” I ask. Raab starts laughing, and the kid next to him whispers what we are doing.
“Square dancing. Can you believe it?”
“Are you serious?”
“Yeah. We’re partnered up with the people across from us. Look who you got.”
“Oh no. No, no, no, no.”
“You should’ve seen her when you were late. She fought for the end spot.”
It’s none other than ‘I love you, Bam’ girl. That’s why it’s so funny, Raab.
The ridiculous music starts playing, and we walk over to our partners. Some couples have already started dancing. I stand across from the girl, pretty much clueless. She grins and takes my arms, and starts dancing us around. Maybe if I just imagine that I’m dancing with Ville.
Ville. Just saying his name makes everything feel so much better.
*Ville’s POV*
There’s only three other people in the room, Mike, and two women, who are in charge of the outfits I’ll be wearing. I walk out in a white dress, short, and silky, paired with white shoes and gorgeous chandelier earrings, which I would buy if Mike wasn’t spending all my money.
“Oh Ville,” one of the ladies exclaims. She jumps up and runs to the stage.
“Absolutely gorgeous! You are walking in that! That will be your big finish. We need two more outfits, and we’ll be done here.”
I nod, and look at Mike. He’s not even watching me. I knew he was going to be no help.
A few minutes later, I reappear in a red evening dress, long and a bit sheer. I have a string of black beads on with it, matching bracelet and a pair of way overpriced shoes. Once again, the ladies love it…Mike doesn’t say a word. He’s probably mad at me. The asshole.
When it’s all said and done, I’m walking in three dresses, a the red one, the white one and a weirdly cut black one. Mike doesn’t like any of them. Told me that I look like a slut. He complained all the way home, and told me off every time I opened my mouth.
I sit in the kitchen in the hotel room at three AM, trying not to cry. I think Mike loves me, but he has one hell of a time showing it. I stare at the rotten bananas on the counter. I kind of wish I was one of those bananas. You aren’t obligated to be anything BUT a banana, and you don’t have a boyfriend who thinks you’re a whore.
I wonder if anyone ever thinks “What does Ville’s poor mother think?” Keep thinking it. Because I don’t want to hear it. The thought of my mother is enough to send me to my feet. In my boxers and a t-shirt, I grab my purse off the table, pull on a pair of sweatpants, and shut the light off. I get a key to the room, and leave.
I get in the rental car, start it up, and start driving towards the slums. I know it’s not the safest place of a guy of my nature to be in, but I need help. And I’m only going to get it in the slums. It’s too risky here. With paparazzi and fans all hanging around, I’m bound to be seen. If I am, then it’ll be all over the news, and I might lose the runway show.
Perfect. Group on the corner. I pull up next to them, and roll the window down. A few of them turn around.
A few minutes later, the deal is done, and I’m off, back towards the city.
Once I arrive back in the city, I stuff my things into my bag. I get out, lock the car, and go inside. Clearing my throat, I go into the restroom, and disappear into a stall. I sit down, and pull out my drug of choice. After preparing it, I take a deep breath, and snort one line. My nose burns, and I feel relief coursing though my veins. It’s been so long.
After repacking my purse, I flush the toilet to disguise what I was doing incase anyone was in here, and walk out. There’s a guy by the sink, smirking at me. I ignore him and go to the sink. I start washing my hands. He comes over to me.
“Clever, but you didn’t get past me. I know what you were doing in there.”
I finish washing my hands, and go for the paper towels.
“You aren’t friendly, are you?”
“Not really.” I throw my wadded up paper towel into the garbage, and start to leave when the guy from the sink pulls me back.
“You’re hot, you know,” he whispers to me, “Can I take you anywhere?”
“No,” I jerk out of his grasp. I walk out of the bathroom, through the shop, and back outside. I hear the guy exit behind me. He throws his arm around my shoulders.
“Sure, babe? We could have some fun.” I think about it. I would like to be away from Mike for a while. I lean my head on his shoulder, and give him a drugged smile. He grins.
“Take me,” I move away from him, and wrap my arms around his neck, “anywhere.”
Around six AM, we pull up at the donut shop. It’s freezing cold this morning, and the sun is almost all the way up. I lean across the bench seat of his truck, and kiss him. He kisses me back. I tell him bye, and get out of the truck. I wave, and he speeds off down the street. He doesn’t know who I was, so I’m not worried.
I pull out the keys for the rental car, and hurry over to the drivers side. I unlock it, get in and start it. Mike is going to kill me.
*Bam’s POV*
“SQUARE DANCING! AND YOU GOT PAIRED UP WITH HER!”
Jess falls off the couch with laughter. I sit there, half-annoyed, half-laughing. It still pisses me off that I had to do it, but it is kind of funny the next day, looking back on it. I relax back on the couch. School is over for today, thank god. And no, I didn’t run into her.
April walks into the room, and looks grossed out.
“WHICH ONE OF YOU LEFT FILTHY UNDERWEAR ON THE BATHROOM FLOOR?”
“Phil,” Jess and I say in unison. April rolls her eyes.
“You know it wasn’t Phil! Whichever one of you did it, don’t EVER do it again.”
Later that night, I sit in my room, holding Ville’s gorgeous face in my hands. If only I could magic him out of that picture, and on my lap. I’d hold him forever. Suddenly an idea forms.
I’ve got to get to that runway show. MUST go.
*Ville’s POV*
I wake up hours later, and sit up in bed. Caught up on a little missed sleep. I didn’t sleep at all last night, that guy (I forget his name completely) and I were messing around for the most part. I don’t know what made me do it. I just had to. I think it was because Mike and I have been having relationship problems (as usual) and I wanted to do something to hurt him. I didn’t, I just pissed him off good. So good that he walked out on me.
It was pretty decent sex, though. I’ve had better, but it wasn’t bad. I lie there a while, thinking. I really shouldn’t though, when I think I get to feeling depressed and dirty. That’s probably why I take Mike back, so I can say I’ve actually held onto a relationship.
A few minutes later, I sit up, tears streaming down my face. See? I told you I shouldn’t think. I’m nothing but a dirty, smelly old whore. No wonder Mike treats me like that. I deserve it. I’m a filthy slut. I slept with another guy last night. I did drugs last night. Fuck, Ville, you’re falling apart.
*The Following Week // Ville’s POV*
Backstage, I pull on my red dress, and shoes. I check my makeup real fast, and wait about ten or fifteen seconds before turning, and walking out on the runway. I pause, and walk straight down, ‘working’ it. I stop at the end, and eye the crowd. There’s camera flashes, cheering and noise.
I look over the crowd again, and double-take when I see that same kid from my last runway show. He’s got a camera, again, and snaps my picture. I start walking backstage again, reluctantly. I give a final look over my shoulder at the kid, and disappear backstage.
When I walk out in the black dress, everyone goes insane. I start down the runway again, watching the kid. He’s snapping pictures. When he brings his camera down, I blow him a kiss, and everyone turns to look at him. He looks nervous then. I smile, and mouth for him to calm down, but he doesn’t understand. I turn and walk backstage again.
The white dress draws much attention as well. I don’t see the kid, and am immediately angered. They better not have thrown him out. Trying not to appear mad, I kick my shoes into the crowd, and turn to walk back stage barefoot. I push other models out of the way, and go up to the director of the event.
“Did you throw him out?” I demand, very pissed off. The lady looks confused.
“Who?”
“A kid, about sixteen, brown hair?! WHERE IS HE?”
“Oh! Him! We didn’t throw him out, of course not! He’s in your dressing room.”
Relief flushes through me, and I walk away from the models and the director. I walk to my dressing room. I throw any remaining anger out of my brain, and open the door. The kid is inside, and spins around quickly. He was looking at the other two dresses. I smile and go inside.
“Hey,” I greet him, “I thought they threw you out.” He smiles nervously.
“What’d they send you back here for anyway?” I ask. I shut the door, and he looks even more nervous.
“They…think I’m your…er…son.”
I start laughing and in a few seconds time, he’s chuckling nervously along with me. I sigh, happily, and smile at him.
“Where are you from anyway?” I ask, sitting down in the chair. He nervously sits in the one next to me. He’s still nervous but at least he’s not trembling as bad.
“W-Westchester, P-PA,” he says, smiling a bit.
“Damn!” I exclaim. “All the way from there? How old are you?”
“S-s-sixteen.”
“And your name?”
“B-Bam.”
“Well, Bam,” I smile, “You came all this way. Let’s go do something!”
******************
Chapter 6! Sorry it took SO long to write. Suffering writers block, again! Anyway, I hope you like it. I hope I’m not rushing things by them meeting again so soon. Want chapter seven? =)
Pairing: Ville and a little OMC, maybe, and VAM eventually
Disclaimer: No ownership. No dominatrix. Yesh. Never happened.
Summary: VAM, Gia Marie Carangi-style. Not a deathfic!!
Warnings: Drug usage, language (some), not too graphic nudity and of course, boys. (haha boys is a warning.)
Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5
*Valo To Walk Runway in New York, Again*
“I’ll be walking next week,” Ville Valo, fashion model said Monday, “It should be fun.”
When we caught up with him, Ville was staying with his boyfriend in--- “BAM!”--- a hotel. The two appeared to be cheerful--- “BAM!”. No word yet on the wedding date, but Valo said it should be soon.
“Sometime soon,” he told us, “I would like a small wedding, without family or friends.”
“BRANDON MARGERA!”
*Bam’s POV*
I slam the magazine shut, and get up from my bed. I know, I know, time to leave for school, oh joy. For a second, I contemplate taking the magazine with me, but I decide not to; if anyone saw me reading this, I’d be the laughingstock of Westchester. Gah.
“BRANDON C. MARGERA, YOU ARE GOING TO BE LATE FOR SCHOOL!”
I roll my eyes, collect my backpack and open my bedroom door. I walk past April in the hallway, down the stairs and out the door. I am gone. I break into a run, down the driveway and onto the street. I keep running.
Suddenly, someone comes out of the trees by the corner, and before I have a chance to stop, we crash, and both fall over backwards. When I get up, I realize it was Ryan, the genius, who I ran into. He collects himself and we start walking together.
“What the hell were you doing in there?” I ask, tiredly. I was up half the night last night, not able to sleep. *Ahem* I was having difficulties ignoring a certain part of my body.
“Nothing,” Ryan says, “Just felt like going in the woods.” He shrugs. Well I certainly believe that.
I change the subject, though. “I hope that one girl isn’t in school today. All I need is another “let’s make babies, Bam” incident, and I’m expelled. Bad enough they’ve confiscated my board. Which still pisses me off, by the way.”
“Well, if you got expelled,” Ryan says as he kicks a rock, “You’d get it back, wouldn’t you?”
“Doubt it.”
I stand in the hallway between fourth and fifth period, locker open, putting my books back. Time for gym class. At least we’ll be doing something fun. I slam the locker shut, and start towards the gym. I go inside, and see that I’m a little late, because there are already two big lines. One girls, the other boys. I jog over to the boys line, and stand next to Raab, who’s smiling like an idiot.
“What are we doing today?” I ask. Raab starts laughing, and the kid next to him whispers what we are doing.
“Square dancing. Can you believe it?”
“Are you serious?”
“Yeah. We’re partnered up with the people across from us. Look who you got.”
“Oh no. No, no, no, no.”
“You should’ve seen her when you were late. She fought for the end spot.”
It’s none other than ‘I love you, Bam’ girl. That’s why it’s so funny, Raab.
The ridiculous music starts playing, and we walk over to our partners. Some couples have already started dancing. I stand across from the girl, pretty much clueless. She grins and takes my arms, and starts dancing us around. Maybe if I just imagine that I’m dancing with Ville.
Ville. Just saying his name makes everything feel so much better.
*Ville’s POV*
There’s only three other people in the room, Mike, and two women, who are in charge of the outfits I’ll be wearing. I walk out in a white dress, short, and silky, paired with white shoes and gorgeous chandelier earrings, which I would buy if Mike wasn’t spending all my money.
“Oh Ville,” one of the ladies exclaims. She jumps up and runs to the stage.
“Absolutely gorgeous! You are walking in that! That will be your big finish. We need two more outfits, and we’ll be done here.”
I nod, and look at Mike. He’s not even watching me. I knew he was going to be no help.
A few minutes later, I reappear in a red evening dress, long and a bit sheer. I have a string of black beads on with it, matching bracelet and a pair of way overpriced shoes. Once again, the ladies love it…Mike doesn’t say a word. He’s probably mad at me. The asshole.
When it’s all said and done, I’m walking in three dresses, a the red one, the white one and a weirdly cut black one. Mike doesn’t like any of them. Told me that I look like a slut. He complained all the way home, and told me off every time I opened my mouth.
I sit in the kitchen in the hotel room at three AM, trying not to cry. I think Mike loves me, but he has one hell of a time showing it. I stare at the rotten bananas on the counter. I kind of wish I was one of those bananas. You aren’t obligated to be anything BUT a banana, and you don’t have a boyfriend who thinks you’re a whore.
I wonder if anyone ever thinks “What does Ville’s poor mother think?” Keep thinking it. Because I don’t want to hear it. The thought of my mother is enough to send me to my feet. In my boxers and a t-shirt, I grab my purse off the table, pull on a pair of sweatpants, and shut the light off. I get a key to the room, and leave.
I get in the rental car, start it up, and start driving towards the slums. I know it’s not the safest place of a guy of my nature to be in, but I need help. And I’m only going to get it in the slums. It’s too risky here. With paparazzi and fans all hanging around, I’m bound to be seen. If I am, then it’ll be all over the news, and I might lose the runway show.
Perfect. Group on the corner. I pull up next to them, and roll the window down. A few of them turn around.
A few minutes later, the deal is done, and I’m off, back towards the city.
Once I arrive back in the city, I stuff my things into my bag. I get out, lock the car, and go inside. Clearing my throat, I go into the restroom, and disappear into a stall. I sit down, and pull out my drug of choice. After preparing it, I take a deep breath, and snort one line. My nose burns, and I feel relief coursing though my veins. It’s been so long.
After repacking my purse, I flush the toilet to disguise what I was doing incase anyone was in here, and walk out. There’s a guy by the sink, smirking at me. I ignore him and go to the sink. I start washing my hands. He comes over to me.
“Clever, but you didn’t get past me. I know what you were doing in there.”
I finish washing my hands, and go for the paper towels.
“You aren’t friendly, are you?”
“Not really.” I throw my wadded up paper towel into the garbage, and start to leave when the guy from the sink pulls me back.
“You’re hot, you know,” he whispers to me, “Can I take you anywhere?”
“No,” I jerk out of his grasp. I walk out of the bathroom, through the shop, and back outside. I hear the guy exit behind me. He throws his arm around my shoulders.
“Sure, babe? We could have some fun.” I think about it. I would like to be away from Mike for a while. I lean my head on his shoulder, and give him a drugged smile. He grins.
“Take me,” I move away from him, and wrap my arms around his neck, “anywhere.”
Around six AM, we pull up at the donut shop. It’s freezing cold this morning, and the sun is almost all the way up. I lean across the bench seat of his truck, and kiss him. He kisses me back. I tell him bye, and get out of the truck. I wave, and he speeds off down the street. He doesn’t know who I was, so I’m not worried.
I pull out the keys for the rental car, and hurry over to the drivers side. I unlock it, get in and start it. Mike is going to kill me.
*Bam’s POV*
“SQUARE DANCING! AND YOU GOT PAIRED UP WITH HER!”
Jess falls off the couch with laughter. I sit there, half-annoyed, half-laughing. It still pisses me off that I had to do it, but it is kind of funny the next day, looking back on it. I relax back on the couch. School is over for today, thank god. And no, I didn’t run into her.
April walks into the room, and looks grossed out.
“WHICH ONE OF YOU LEFT FILTHY UNDERWEAR ON THE BATHROOM FLOOR?”
“Phil,” Jess and I say in unison. April rolls her eyes.
“You know it wasn’t Phil! Whichever one of you did it, don’t EVER do it again.”
Later that night, I sit in my room, holding Ville’s gorgeous face in my hands. If only I could magic him out of that picture, and on my lap. I’d hold him forever. Suddenly an idea forms.
I’ve got to get to that runway show. MUST go.
*Ville’s POV*
I wake up hours later, and sit up in bed. Caught up on a little missed sleep. I didn’t sleep at all last night, that guy (I forget his name completely) and I were messing around for the most part. I don’t know what made me do it. I just had to. I think it was because Mike and I have been having relationship problems (as usual) and I wanted to do something to hurt him. I didn’t, I just pissed him off good. So good that he walked out on me.
It was pretty decent sex, though. I’ve had better, but it wasn’t bad. I lie there a while, thinking. I really shouldn’t though, when I think I get to feeling depressed and dirty. That’s probably why I take Mike back, so I can say I’ve actually held onto a relationship.
A few minutes later, I sit up, tears streaming down my face. See? I told you I shouldn’t think. I’m nothing but a dirty, smelly old whore. No wonder Mike treats me like that. I deserve it. I’m a filthy slut. I slept with another guy last night. I did drugs last night. Fuck, Ville, you’re falling apart.
*The Following Week // Ville’s POV*
Backstage, I pull on my red dress, and shoes. I check my makeup real fast, and wait about ten or fifteen seconds before turning, and walking out on the runway. I pause, and walk straight down, ‘working’ it. I stop at the end, and eye the crowd. There’s camera flashes, cheering and noise.
I look over the crowd again, and double-take when I see that same kid from my last runway show. He’s got a camera, again, and snaps my picture. I start walking backstage again, reluctantly. I give a final look over my shoulder at the kid, and disappear backstage.
When I walk out in the black dress, everyone goes insane. I start down the runway again, watching the kid. He’s snapping pictures. When he brings his camera down, I blow him a kiss, and everyone turns to look at him. He looks nervous then. I smile, and mouth for him to calm down, but he doesn’t understand. I turn and walk backstage again.
The white dress draws much attention as well. I don’t see the kid, and am immediately angered. They better not have thrown him out. Trying not to appear mad, I kick my shoes into the crowd, and turn to walk back stage barefoot. I push other models out of the way, and go up to the director of the event.
“Did you throw him out?” I demand, very pissed off. The lady looks confused.
“Who?”
“A kid, about sixteen, brown hair?! WHERE IS HE?”
“Oh! Him! We didn’t throw him out, of course not! He’s in your dressing room.”
Relief flushes through me, and I walk away from the models and the director. I walk to my dressing room. I throw any remaining anger out of my brain, and open the door. The kid is inside, and spins around quickly. He was looking at the other two dresses. I smile and go inside.
“Hey,” I greet him, “I thought they threw you out.” He smiles nervously.
“What’d they send you back here for anyway?” I ask. I shut the door, and he looks even more nervous.
“They…think I’m your…er…son.”
I start laughing and in a few seconds time, he’s chuckling nervously along with me. I sigh, happily, and smile at him.
“Where are you from anyway?” I ask, sitting down in the chair. He nervously sits in the one next to me. He’s still nervous but at least he’s not trembling as bad.
“W-Westchester, P-PA,” he says, smiling a bit.
“Damn!” I exclaim. “All the way from there? How old are you?”
“S-s-sixteen.”
“And your name?”
“B-Bam.”
“Well, Bam,” I smile, “You came all this way. Let’s go do something!”
******************
Chapter 6! Sorry it took SO long to write. Suffering writers block, again! Anyway, I hope you like it. I hope I’m not rushing things by them meeting again so soon. Want chapter seven? =)