Fic-move: Get The Fuck Out Of My Mind
I'm going to move my old fics over here to my own journal, so there will be a couple of posts from me tonight with old fics, kinda want to put them all under my own roof, lol
I know at least some of you have already read them so it's not gonna be anything new, I'll just be correcting some spelling mistakes and a few other things. If you wanna read them (again) you just go ahead :D
(And I know the linking went completely crazy when I first posted it in _vam so chances are, it will now as well :D)
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Title: Get The Fuck Out Of My Mind
Author: Mette, aka
snowisgreat
Rating: It might be sad but won’t prevent you from sleeping, I promise
Pairing: Three guesses….
Disclaimer: Blah blah - you know the drill
Summary: Ville trying to make it through a concert
A/N: Inspired by the song with the same title by Danish singer Tim Christensen.
My priceless beta was
swampwitch9666 and I'm grateful to her for her work.
I tell myself I can do it. Of course I can do it. It’s just another show, done tons of them, should be more than used to it by now. And I am, it’s just that tonight is different. This is the first show close to his place since we split up, and I know he’s probably gonna be here.
Don’t think about him. Don’t think about anything that can remind you of him. It’s just very difficult not to think of anything at all; very few people master that skill. Instead I must put on my happy face, not letting anybody see how I’m feeling. That would be like crap, to be honest. It’s only the rest of the band who know how low I’m actually feeling and they are doing their best to cheer me up. Can’t say it’s working though, they can’t make me not feel the guilt tormenting my insides.
I so wish I could just put it all behind me, that someone could give me a kick in the butt so I could get out of this hole and get on. But no one can, not even myself; because I keep thinking about him.
Wherever I look I see him.
Whatever I taste I taste him.
Whatever I smell I smell him.
Whatever I touch I touch him.
Whatever I hear I hear him.
At least that’s how it feels and I hate it.
Okay, 13 minutes 'til start. Wonder where he will be, if I will see him? God dammit Ville, stop it! I don’t even know for sure if he’s gonna be there, since I haven’t spoken to him since then. But I did speak to Raab a couple of weeks ago, who mentioned something about maybe coming. I hope not. Okay, Raab can come, and the rest of the crew, that’s fine. Who am I kidding, of course it’s not, it’ll just cut open the wounds once again. Everyone must stay away, stay away from me.
Fuck Bam, can’t you just leave me alone?! All my thoughts seem to be centered on him, and whenever I think I might have moved on a little, something like this happens and whoops, I’m as good as back where I started.
And the dreams, oh my, the dreams... I don’t recall one single night since we broke up when he hasn’t been visiting me. Sometimes the dreams are oh so good, reminding me of the sweet times we had. But more often than not they are bad, making me remember how I screwed him over and started taking him for granted, testing him to the limit.
I loved him, still do in spite of my attempts to do otherwise, but I couldn’t help myself. I acted like shit and I deserve it, I know. And I really can’t explain it, not even after this time, I can’t explain why I would be so stupid. What in the world made me give shit about our deals, not flying over to see him when we had arranged it - and not even tell him I wasn’t coming?! Or what made me pretend to be interested in that girl back home knowing how it would cause him pain? Or what made me do all the other cruel things that pushed him away? Suppose I did it because I was afraid not to, however strange that sounds. If I could only have realised this back then, then maybe I wouldn't have lost him.
I have never had anyone love me like him before and I think it scared the shit out of me. He was too close to seeing me for me, seeing in behind my masks, each one so carefully chosen for the occasion. Couldn’t let that happen, had to keep up the façade, who knows what he would think if I showed him ME.
He doesn’t care about me anymore. He shouldn’t care about me anymore. It’s for the better; just have to make myself see that too.
I wish we could have cancelled this show. Or moved it to another venue further from his home. I just couldn’t think of a reason good enough to convince the tour manager; I’m not sure he’s too preoccupied with the state of my heart, to be honest.
What has it been now, four months? Yeah, four months. Four months of me feeling completely miserable and not being able to face any new days. I need to get a grip. Tomorrow just seems so bloody far away, knowing I’m gonna get there alone. The will be no Bam in any of my tomorrows, and truth be told, he probably doesn’t give a shit if I ever get there. He has a big heart but I tested him beyond his limits and I don't think he will forgive me. I know I won't.
9 minutes. Walk up to the stage and have a look out over the audience but remember to hide in the shadow of the curtains, don’t let them see you. Never done this before but tonight I need to know what I’m up against. So many faces and this instant I think all of them belong to him, making my heart pound like crazy in my chest. I must take a closer look. No, none of them are his and it makes me feel even worse than before. Completely stupid, considering I don’t want him here. I want him to stay away. I need to shine without him, let me shine without you Bam, please? There has got to be just a Ville Valo, not a Ville Valo & Bam Margera. I was there before you came around; I can get back to that place again. I fucking have to get back there before I completely lose track of myself.
Happy endings? Never gonna happen, not while he’s still my ghost and god knows he plays that role incredibly well. Or maybe I let him play it too well.
Get out Bam; just get the fuck out of my mind, dammit…
6 minutes. Okay, I have to do this. I practice my broad smile, feels most like a contorted grimace that can scare any kid. Never thought I’d have to practice smiling, has always come so naturally to me before. Up until four months ago. I curse myself for letting it happen.
Shaking my hands, arms, shoulders, legs, trying to loosen up a bit. Have to look relaxed when I hit the stage.
Time for one last sip before kick-off. Oops, emptied the bottle. What the hell, I can get another one. Put on my charming smile and get the girl with the clip board to fetch me another one from the dressing room. She seems happy to oblige, blushing. They always do. I still know how to put on my masks, otherwise she would have been scared of me. Some people say you change your mask once every few years as your life develops and you evolve as a person. I change mine about every few minutes, depending on what I want to achieve. Right now I just want more booze to numb the fear, the fear of maybe having to see him.
No more minutes. We have been introduced and I’m expected to walk on stage now. I let the others enter before me, then I walk in with my one arm raised, waving at the crowd I cannot see, blinded by all the lights directed towards the stage. Still I cannot keep myself from squeezing my eyes together and looking around while the intro to The Face of God is flowing from the instruments and I light my smoke.
No, I don’t see them, don’t see him. Good, maybe then the show can run without any major failures caused by me. Face of God, sarcasm biting my ass, can’t have been thinking clearly when I said yes to playing that one.
Start singing now Ville, intro is over. I hear my own voice flow out over the edge of the stage, reaching the ears of the crowd having paid good money to see us.
“…. And the devil inside is reading the words of the saddest poem to be engraved on the stone of my grave…” He might have seemed successful but truth is, he failed miserably, it should say on my tomb stone; that would only be appropriate.
Blah blah, forgot the lyrics again, must make something up. This time the occasion calls for the mischievous face, making the audience think I have complete control. I’m the master if I can make them believe it. Give them a crooked smile and a blink, will it work? Yeah, seems I pulled it off, yet again. Only Bam was able to see through me, he knew instinctively when I wasn’t being honest. He got tired of trying to make me admit the lies hiding behind the lines of my pretty face. Can’t say I blame him.
I wonder if he knows the irony of it all - when he was there I fought so hard to keep him out and now that he’s gone he’s even deeper inside of me than he could ever have imagined. Suppose he got me back good, huh?
“The face of…. GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOD.”
One down, fifteen to go. It’s gonna be a long night. I can do it, just need to light my second smoke, hands mustn’t be un-occupied. Pull down the beanie and fiddle with my scarf, make sure my face shows the right expression before I can turn my front to the crowd again. Ready for the next song.
I know at least some of you have already read them so it's not gonna be anything new, I'll just be correcting some spelling mistakes and a few other things. If you wanna read them (again) you just go ahead :D
(And I know the linking went completely crazy when I first posted it in _vam so chances are, it will now as well :D)
*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*
Title: Get The Fuck Out Of My Mind
Author: Mette, aka
snowisgreat
Rating: It might be sad but won’t prevent you from sleeping, I promise
Pairing: Three guesses….
Disclaimer: Blah blah - you know the drill
Summary: Ville trying to make it through a concert
A/N: Inspired by the song with the same title by Danish singer Tim Christensen.
My priceless beta was
swampwitch9666 and I'm grateful to her for her work.
I tell myself I can do it. Of course I can do it. It’s just another show, done tons of them, should be more than used to it by now. And I am, it’s just that tonight is different. This is the first show close to his place since we split up, and I know he’s probably gonna be here.
Don’t think about him. Don’t think about anything that can remind you of him. It’s just very difficult not to think of anything at all; very few people master that skill. Instead I must put on my happy face, not letting anybody see how I’m feeling. That would be like crap, to be honest. It’s only the rest of the band who know how low I’m actually feeling and they are doing their best to cheer me up. Can’t say it’s working though, they can’t make me not feel the guilt tormenting my insides.
I so wish I could just put it all behind me, that someone could give me a kick in the butt so I could get out of this hole and get on. But no one can, not even myself; because I keep thinking about him.
Wherever I look I see him.
Whatever I taste I taste him.
Whatever I smell I smell him.
Whatever I touch I touch him.
Whatever I hear I hear him.
At least that’s how it feels and I hate it.
Okay, 13 minutes 'til start. Wonder where he will be, if I will see him? God dammit Ville, stop it! I don’t even know for sure if he’s gonna be there, since I haven’t spoken to him since then. But I did speak to Raab a couple of weeks ago, who mentioned something about maybe coming. I hope not. Okay, Raab can come, and the rest of the crew, that’s fine. Who am I kidding, of course it’s not, it’ll just cut open the wounds once again. Everyone must stay away, stay away from me.
Fuck Bam, can’t you just leave me alone?! All my thoughts seem to be centered on him, and whenever I think I might have moved on a little, something like this happens and whoops, I’m as good as back where I started.
And the dreams, oh my, the dreams... I don’t recall one single night since we broke up when he hasn’t been visiting me. Sometimes the dreams are oh so good, reminding me of the sweet times we had. But more often than not they are bad, making me remember how I screwed him over and started taking him for granted, testing him to the limit.
I loved him, still do in spite of my attempts to do otherwise, but I couldn’t help myself. I acted like shit and I deserve it, I know. And I really can’t explain it, not even after this time, I can’t explain why I would be so stupid. What in the world made me give shit about our deals, not flying over to see him when we had arranged it - and not even tell him I wasn’t coming?! Or what made me pretend to be interested in that girl back home knowing how it would cause him pain? Or what made me do all the other cruel things that pushed him away? Suppose I did it because I was afraid not to, however strange that sounds. If I could only have realised this back then, then maybe I wouldn't have lost him.
I have never had anyone love me like him before and I think it scared the shit out of me. He was too close to seeing me for me, seeing in behind my masks, each one so carefully chosen for the occasion. Couldn’t let that happen, had to keep up the façade, who knows what he would think if I showed him ME.
He doesn’t care about me anymore. He shouldn’t care about me anymore. It’s for the better; just have to make myself see that too.
I wish we could have cancelled this show. Or moved it to another venue further from his home. I just couldn’t think of a reason good enough to convince the tour manager; I’m not sure he’s too preoccupied with the state of my heart, to be honest.
What has it been now, four months? Yeah, four months. Four months of me feeling completely miserable and not being able to face any new days. I need to get a grip. Tomorrow just seems so bloody far away, knowing I’m gonna get there alone. The will be no Bam in any of my tomorrows, and truth be told, he probably doesn’t give a shit if I ever get there. He has a big heart but I tested him beyond his limits and I don't think he will forgive me. I know I won't.
9 minutes. Walk up to the stage and have a look out over the audience but remember to hide in the shadow of the curtains, don’t let them see you. Never done this before but tonight I need to know what I’m up against. So many faces and this instant I think all of them belong to him, making my heart pound like crazy in my chest. I must take a closer look. No, none of them are his and it makes me feel even worse than before. Completely stupid, considering I don’t want him here. I want him to stay away. I need to shine without him, let me shine without you Bam, please? There has got to be just a Ville Valo, not a Ville Valo & Bam Margera. I was there before you came around; I can get back to that place again. I fucking have to get back there before I completely lose track of myself.
Happy endings? Never gonna happen, not while he’s still my ghost and god knows he plays that role incredibly well. Or maybe I let him play it too well.
Get out Bam; just get the fuck out of my mind, dammit…
6 minutes. Okay, I have to do this. I practice my broad smile, feels most like a contorted grimace that can scare any kid. Never thought I’d have to practice smiling, has always come so naturally to me before. Up until four months ago. I curse myself for letting it happen.
Shaking my hands, arms, shoulders, legs, trying to loosen up a bit. Have to look relaxed when I hit the stage.
Time for one last sip before kick-off. Oops, emptied the bottle. What the hell, I can get another one. Put on my charming smile and get the girl with the clip board to fetch me another one from the dressing room. She seems happy to oblige, blushing. They always do. I still know how to put on my masks, otherwise she would have been scared of me. Some people say you change your mask once every few years as your life develops and you evolve as a person. I change mine about every few minutes, depending on what I want to achieve. Right now I just want more booze to numb the fear, the fear of maybe having to see him.
No more minutes. We have been introduced and I’m expected to walk on stage now. I let the others enter before me, then I walk in with my one arm raised, waving at the crowd I cannot see, blinded by all the lights directed towards the stage. Still I cannot keep myself from squeezing my eyes together and looking around while the intro to The Face of God is flowing from the instruments and I light my smoke.
No, I don’t see them, don’t see him. Good, maybe then the show can run without any major failures caused by me. Face of God, sarcasm biting my ass, can’t have been thinking clearly when I said yes to playing that one.
Start singing now Ville, intro is over. I hear my own voice flow out over the edge of the stage, reaching the ears of the crowd having paid good money to see us.
“…. And the devil inside is reading the words of the saddest poem to be engraved on the stone of my grave…” He might have seemed successful but truth is, he failed miserably, it should say on my tomb stone; that would only be appropriate.
Blah blah, forgot the lyrics again, must make something up. This time the occasion calls for the mischievous face, making the audience think I have complete control. I’m the master if I can make them believe it. Give them a crooked smile and a blink, will it work? Yeah, seems I pulled it off, yet again. Only Bam was able to see through me, he knew instinctively when I wasn’t being honest. He got tired of trying to make me admit the lies hiding behind the lines of my pretty face. Can’t say I blame him.
I wonder if he knows the irony of it all - when he was there I fought so hard to keep him out and now that he’s gone he’s even deeper inside of me than he could ever have imagined. Suppose he got me back good, huh?
“The face of…. GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOD.”
One down, fifteen to go. It’s gonna be a long night. I can do it, just need to light my second smoke, hands mustn’t be un-occupied. Pull down the beanie and fiddle with my scarf, make sure my face shows the right expression before I can turn my front to the crowd again. Ready for the next song.