Lost fic: Happy New Year
Title Happy New Year
Warnings swearing, brief references to drugs/sex
Characters Charlie Pace, mentions of Liam, Megan, and Roderick
Summary Fixing, drinking, and anonymous sex; Rocker!Charlie brings in the New Year the only way he knows how. Oneshot.
Read @ ff.net
He stumbled out the pub's back door, spluttering cigarette smoke from his lungs as the fresh air hit his face like a splash of cold water. He could hear Liam's uncontrolled laughter roll down the alley. Echoing. It gave him a headache. He couldn't stand it. He couldn't stand any of them. Fresh from a quick fix and an even quicker screw, he tripped forwards onto the concrete, feeling numb and euphoric, like he could float away and disappear into that dark, blotchy sky. He still felt that blonde's hot breath in his ear, the sting of her nails digging into his back, her unsober moans and groans bouncing off the bathroom walls. He couldn't remember her name.
'That's what New Year's all-a-bloody-bout!' Roderick had slurred over the bar after ordering his fifth pint. 'Fuck, if Charlie can pull, so can I!' nd he downed his drink and sauntered off to chat up a group of girls who were much too young for him. According to Roderick, ow you spend tonight would be how you spend the rest of the New Year, and he intended to spend it in as many women as possible.
Fuck Roderick. Fuck all of them. This was Liam's fucking bright idea. Liam, drunk and high, acting like he's sixteen years old again. Acting like a total twat. His tumultuous howls of drunken laughter booming down the street. He'd had enough of it all.
'Charlie!' he heard them call 'Come back, we were only pulling ya leg!'
'Sod off,' he murmured, feeling his warm skin itch, his limbs aching, his stomach doing somersaults. He felt like he was going to puke. A rat scuttled over his foot and he jumped, making the bins rattle and topple over and soon he was toppling down with them. His head boomed, his body quivering, and he rolled onto his side and vomited up whatever rubbish he had ingested in the last twelve hours.
Fuck fuck fuck His stomach strained until all it could manage was bile I'm gonna die he thought I'm fucking dying, and then he spat to get away the tobacco-vomit taste, and wiped away the salty tears that had squeezed out of his eye sockets and rolled their way down his pale cheeks. Falling onto his back, he glanced up at that blotchy sky, hearing the countdown start.
10…9…8!
He felt dream-like, as if he wasn't really there on that wet ground, covered in rubbish and puke and spit. He was in that sky. Pulling stars out of the clouds and shining with the moon.
6…5…4!
He liked to think his mother was in the sky. In heaven, or wherever lost and hopeless people go when they die. They were in the sky together. Looking down and laughing about all this, about what a fuck-up he was and how screwed up everything had become. About what a dick Liam was being.
3...2...1!
Then, a distant eruption of cheers and laughter. Liam probably had his tongue down some girl's throat. He probably would have to if he wasn't out here lying in his own rancid vomit, wishing more and more that he could be anywhere other than this shit-hole.
'Happy New Year,' he thought dismally, the sky lighting up with bright lights and colourful explosions, forcing him back down into this weak, pathetic form How you spend tonight would be how you spend the rest of the New Year Roderick's irritating voice sounded again in his foggy mind.
His New Year's Resolution would be to quit and start anew. No drugs, no alcohol, no women and no rock music. But he knew he would always wind up back in that pub with his brother and his friends, downing drinks and getting high, anticipating another 365 nights just like this one.
Until the next year.
Warnings swearing, brief references to drugs/sex
Characters Charlie Pace, mentions of Liam, Megan, and Roderick
Summary Fixing, drinking, and anonymous sex; Rocker!Charlie brings in the New Year the only way he knows how. Oneshot.
Read @ ff.net
He stumbled out the pub's back door, spluttering cigarette smoke from his lungs as the fresh air hit his face like a splash of cold water. He could hear Liam's uncontrolled laughter roll down the alley. Echoing. It gave him a headache. He couldn't stand it. He couldn't stand any of them. Fresh from a quick fix and an even quicker screw, he tripped forwards onto the concrete, feeling numb and euphoric, like he could float away and disappear into that dark, blotchy sky. He still felt that blonde's hot breath in his ear, the sting of her nails digging into his back, her unsober moans and groans bouncing off the bathroom walls. He couldn't remember her name.
'That's what New Year's all-a-bloody-bout!' Roderick had slurred over the bar after ordering his fifth pint. 'Fuck, if Charlie can pull, so can I!' nd he downed his drink and sauntered off to chat up a group of girls who were much too young for him. According to Roderick, ow you spend tonight would be how you spend the rest of the New Year, and he intended to spend it in as many women as possible.
Fuck Roderick. Fuck all of them. This was Liam's fucking bright idea. Liam, drunk and high, acting like he's sixteen years old again. Acting like a total twat. His tumultuous howls of drunken laughter booming down the street. He'd had enough of it all.
'Charlie!' he heard them call 'Come back, we were only pulling ya leg!'
'Sod off,' he murmured, feeling his warm skin itch, his limbs aching, his stomach doing somersaults. He felt like he was going to puke. A rat scuttled over his foot and he jumped, making the bins rattle and topple over and soon he was toppling down with them. His head boomed, his body quivering, and he rolled onto his side and vomited up whatever rubbish he had ingested in the last twelve hours.
Fuck fuck fuck His stomach strained until all it could manage was bile I'm gonna die he thought I'm fucking dying, and then he spat to get away the tobacco-vomit taste, and wiped away the salty tears that had squeezed out of his eye sockets and rolled their way down his pale cheeks. Falling onto his back, he glanced up at that blotchy sky, hearing the countdown start.
10…9…8!
He felt dream-like, as if he wasn't really there on that wet ground, covered in rubbish and puke and spit. He was in that sky. Pulling stars out of the clouds and shining with the moon.
6…5…4!
He liked to think his mother was in the sky. In heaven, or wherever lost and hopeless people go when they die. They were in the sky together. Looking down and laughing about all this, about what a fuck-up he was and how screwed up everything had become. About what a dick Liam was being.
3...2...1!
Then, a distant eruption of cheers and laughter. Liam probably had his tongue down some girl's throat. He probably would have to if he wasn't out here lying in his own rancid vomit, wishing more and more that he could be anywhere other than this shit-hole.
'Happy New Year,' he thought dismally, the sky lighting up with bright lights and colourful explosions, forcing him back down into this weak, pathetic form How you spend tonight would be how you spend the rest of the New Year Roderick's irritating voice sounded again in his foggy mind.
His New Year's Resolution would be to quit and start anew. No drugs, no alcohol, no women and no rock music. But he knew he would always wind up back in that pub with his brother and his friends, downing drinks and getting high, anticipating another 365 nights just like this one.
Until the next year.