Deal some, win some. {Brodie}

[Wayde Manfield]

Wayde kept his back upon the wall of a run down alleyway. Glass scattered across the floor off drunken teenagers who'd dropped their bottles of cheap wine. Or who threw them. But Wayde was not one of those teenagers. Instead, he was one of the teenagers who influenced that sort of behaviour, yet never did it himself. He was the type who stood back, with an amused glance across his face, an evil flicker in his eyes, as the world passed over in front of him. But he knew that whatever happened to the kids, it was his fault. Afterall, he was the supplier.

Wayde hid his hands in his pockets. One was clasped tightly to a small bag of... contents. The other held onto a switch blade tightly. Afterall if anyone tried to scam him, he could always pull out the blade. No one could scam him.

He tapped his foot against the floor with an impatience as he awaited the usual freaks who would provide him with business.

[Brodie Aldwyn]

Happy slap me stupid.

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[Wayde Manfield]

Wayde glanced at the girl who entered the alleyway, kicking a can. He recognised her at once but didn't show that recognition in his actions. Instead he just watched her with his silent dark eyes, following her every move, seeing what she was doing, spying on her. Her silence confused him, but he tried not to show it.

Finally, Wayde motioned himself forwards, approaching her in some small dazed dream. His face was unamused. His body language was slug. And basically, Wayde was confused about his friend’s anger, or sadness, whatever it was. He wasn’t concerned about her though. She could handle it herself, she was a big girl. And if she couldn’t then it was her own fault for being so weak, he told himself defiantly.

Wayde pulled his hand out of his pocket quicker, the blade clenched tightly in his fist. He brought it towards Brodie so quickly, so tensly, so controlled, yet a fierce look burnt on his face. He held it to her neck, his breathing loud on her face. “Hello, Brodie.” Wayde sneered darkly. “Thought you’d just ignore me, huh? And what did I do to deserve this?” He brought the blade closer to her skin, letting the tip touch her neck as he held her sharply.

And just like that, he pocketed it again, a big amused smile landed across his features. “Trick or treat. How do you suggest we celebrate Halloween this year?” he pondered with great curiosity. “I say we set the school on fire dressed like pumpkins. Although I’m willing to take suggestions.” He smirked brightly.

[Brodie Aldwyn]

All I need is a kind word every now and then.

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[/b] She snapped at him, harshly and angrily her voice raised, if she was a cat her hackles would have been up, though Brodie's equivalent of that was the way her hand clenched in to a fist half reaching out for something to punch half trying to restrain herself. She was in an astoundingly bad mood and of course taking out on him. Why? Because he managed to push the wrong button, also because he just half scared her to death. Brodie's eyes narrowed slightly at him. "You can be an utter bastard sometimes!"
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[Wayde Manfield]

Wayde grinned devilishly at her reaction. He loved getting a reaction out of people even if it was his friends. He wished he had a camera with him, to tape it and watch it and watch it and grow from it. Watching peoples reactions was his version of porn. It just got to him, so deeply that he became so passionate by it. So amused. So thrilled. “It was just a joke,” he explained. And he believed in that explanation. It was a joke, a harmless joke, right? What did it matter at all? He rolled his eyes at her over reacted reaction. “Oh come on,” Wayde said, flicking a smile over his lips. “You’re starting to sound like my art work. Don’t be so repetitive, baby.”

Wayde stretched out his finger tips and moved backwards from Brodie in the process. Just incase she got angry and wanted a punch bag. Though he didn’t know if Brodie would go to attack him. They’d never really had a fight before, who would win? Would he be able to hit her? She was a girl… hitting girls was against his rules, wasn’t it? Or maybe not, he had done it before. Wayde shrugged his shoulders. It would never happen anyways.

He looked over at Brodie. She was pretty when she looked like that, angry. He liked it, it was so aggressive, so nice. “Wanna know a secret?” Wayde asked her with a cheeky smile on his face. He was feeling playful and with the lack of junkies around, he felt so much freer. “I’m a virgin,” he whispered into her ear. His heart was thumping, his mind was racing. Yet he said it as though it wasn’t true what he was saying. “Brodie, marry me!” Wayde asked randomly, yelling it loud in the air.

[Brodie Aldwyn]

To ease my restless soul

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[/b] She snapped sounding more angry than she probably was, really was was just scared and for a moment she had got a taste of what his 'artwork' felt like. Just a momentary taste and she didn't like it one single bit. She absolutely hated it.

"Sometimes your jokes ain't that funny Wayde." She told him with a deep sense of arrogance in her voice though just as before she was more scared of him in that moment than anything else. Then he moved back and for a moment she felt better, she felt safer now. What was that sitting in her eyes, right on the edge of her eyelashes...a crystalline tear hanging in between two eyelashes at the edge of her eye. Had he really given her that much of a fright. "God your a fucking dick sometimes!" She yelled at him just to cover up the fact she was upset with him, though it probably just made it a whole lot more obvious.

Then he was close again she she was scared again, a momentary flutter in her heart as he leaned close. He was joking around, playing with her and Brodie hated it when he did it. There were times (when they were drunk) that they could hold decent conversations about the morals of society, then there were other times where he acted like an utter dick head like this and freaked her out - though Brodie would never show it. The thought crossed her mind that she shouldn't act like this, keep going back to a person who she was half afraid of and yet considered her best friend.

Didn't that say enough on its own.

"Wayde stop fucking about. I'm not in the mood."
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[Wayde Manfield]

“Urgh, why are you always so boring?” Wayde complained darkly. He approached her again, running his hands over her body. He pushed his face next to hers, keeping his tongue out and near the surface of her skin. Yet it didn’t touch her skin. It was just near as his arms wrapped around her waist. “Does this mean you’re turning down my marriage proposal?” he asked in her ear. “I’m insulted.” Wayde kept close to her. He didn’t know why he was doing this, why he was so close to her, with his hands around her, his body pressing against hers, his breath on her cheek. It was like he needed to do it. But suddenly, he realised something. He was late at realising it, but he did. He’d never really saw tears so close up before. He got even closer to inspect it, until suddenly he licked it. He licked her tear and tasted its salty flavourings. He hadn’t cried in years. He’d forgotten the taste and the touch of what one felt like. Yet it was odd, why was she crying? “I like the taste of tears.” Wayde whispered. He licked her eye again in hope to catch anyone one. Eyelashes tasted weird though.

“Why are you crying?” he asked her sharply. With the tone of his voice, he dropped his arms from her and scratched his back vigorously. “Do you know that I’m moving house?” Wayde informed her. “My mother claims to have fallen in love with a man. We’re going to move to his house,” he grinned, “He lives around here somewhere, with his son who should be about my age… imagine living with a piece of art. It would be like a constant work. I could take my time with it, slowly let it become the masterpiece it was born to be.” Wayde googled her again. “Brodie, when you cry, it turns me on.” He said and motioned to his member, “I think he likes you.” And then he laughed again. He wanted some alcohol. Alcohol always worked well. It was best when he got Brodie drunk, because then she’d be more up for stuff.

He blinked wildly as he imagined where they would both be in ten years. He thought of the band. And the prison. Prison seemed like the best option for him. Would he be stolen from this earth, from Brodie, from everyone and shoved into a cold hard cell? Would he scream at night that it was Mr.Loonbell’s fault for giving up on him. Would he scream that it was his mothers fault and beg for release? Prison. Isolation. The thought terrified him. And then there was the thought of being a father to Brodie’s children. For some reason, it was nice.

[Brodie Aldwyn]

Hold my heart.

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[/b] Brodie protested wiping her eyes as she narrowed her eyes at him slightly. Why was he being such a dick today, or was it just she was in a strange mood. She felt her back against the wall and jumped slightly. "Don't be so stupid!" She told him again, though her voice betrayed her.

"Thats...good?" She said looking down slightly. "By why would you want to push your new step brother around, isn't he going to be part of your family. You shouldn't push your family around." She told him with a raised eyebrow. God forbid she had never had the balls to even look at anyone in her family the wrong way.
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[Wayde Manfield]

Wayde never noticed her backwards steps. He never had been that observational though. It was a bad habit of his. It was possibly why he was bad during school, at work at least. He just couldn’t pay attention to what the teacher was saying long enough and he couldn’t spot mistakes or what he had to do. He was pretty screwed when it came to work.

“Oh, you’re not crying… I just ate your tears.” He scoffed dramatically, as he sarcastically began to pace. “I never cry! Not once! Never once in my life will you find me crying, I swear to God, I’ll never do it.” He stated with a sense of triumph. He hadn’t cried in ages. Crying was for the weak, he told himself. Though he didn’t believe it, he just couldn’t do it. It was like he’d turned cold to crying. He didn’t deal with things by crying, he took it out on other things. He let other people weep the tears he so desired to.

“Because if I don’t push him around, then he’ll hang around me and be a dweeb. And to be fair, I need to state who’s boss in my house. I don’t care if he has his poncy father, I have me and my strength. I need nothing else.” Wayde began to skip around the alleyway in a fake hype. He was bored and trying to amuse himself, and Brodie was here, and he wanted her. Could he hype her up so much that he could get her to pounce on him and then they could have a mini fight? He fancied having a fight. “Well I’m Wayde, Wayde, Wayde and I’m better than you!” he sang loudly. It was as if he was drunk, but the only thing was, he wasn’t.

“What size is your bra?” Wayde asked with a sudden curiosity. He glanced at her chest, eyeing up her boobs with desire. “I have a game. It’s called, you show, me show. And now you show me something and I show you something. Then we get off with each other.” He laughed. “Or we could go look for some trouble, beat up some freshman or equally beat up old people. Either works, I’m bored. I might go egg my house if you don’t do anything soon. Or better yet, egg yours. Or fire up your place, fire up all the kiddy pox.” He laughed loudly, evilly. It was a fake, shrill laugh which he used, but still, it wasn’t a laughable matter.

[Brodie Aldwyn]

Tear it apart.

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[/b] She told him sounding snuffly. Brodie hated crying. She didn't like it one little bit, well not in front of people any way. She never cried in front of people (bar Dan - just because he was her social worker - and Shay.) And she never ever made herself publicly broke down, she never ever made her emotions public either. She was closed off, yet open. If you looked closely, you could see the signs. No one ever took that time though. Some people told her she was evil because of the way she behaved, others thought it was a cry for help and the rest...well they 'blamed the parents' and didn't realize that there were none.

She looked at Wayde, her eyes flickered from him to the alleyway and back to him. For a moment she couldn't believe what she was hearing. "I can't believe you would hit your own family." She said with shock in her voice. "There your family, maybe not by blood but still..." That was where she drew the line. It may sound strange but Brodie was still loyal to hers, even if her mother was dead and her father in prison. She was more than loyal to him. She had refused to testify against him, insisted that nothing had happened, lied to the police and social work. Even though they knew the truth she had denied it, still was in so many ways.

It was the way he looked at her that got her annoyed, Brodie wasn't one to play games like this. She hated sexual contact, she hated the thought of it. Her eyes narrowed at him, a slight growl. Then he made her snap.

She pushed him back snapping; "Touch Terrytons and I will kill you, thats a fucking promise!" And by god she would keep it. They were the closest thing she had to a family and she would not have a single one of them hurt. Even if she didn't get on will with every kid there, they were still a family, they were in this together and she would be damned if any of them got hurt. She was loyal to them too.
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[Wayde Manfield]

“We can do some living, spend our whole life hoping, coz in the end we’re left with the one we chose. So I’ll do my dreaming, with my eyes wide open.” Wayde sang along to a country tune he’d heard not so long ago. It was random when things like that popped into your mind and you just had to sing it. And Wayde wasn’t afraid of singing in public like some people were. He’d sing away and not care what people thought. After all, if people insulted him, well they wouldn’t get very far.

“It’s not my family!” Wayde stated back rather rudely and hurriedly. “I don’t even know the guy. Don’t you assume you know my family! I’d smack my father if I saw him, I’d kill him for not being around for me. For using my mom the way he did, taking advantage of a drunk young girl!” he spat at the thought of his dad. Sometime he felt like he loved the unknown man. Other times he wanted to kill him. This was one of those times. “Family means shit to me. Is it family like to just abandon your son because he doesn’t get good grades? Is it family like to insult your son’s style when he’s going out to meet a girl. Is it family like to say he’s gonna fail in his tests and he may as well go to jail? My mom’s never once said she’s proud of me! Not once, and all parents say that. Or so they should. So don’t fucking tell me about pushing around my family. They’re not my family. You’re more my family than they are, and I’m not gonna allow some dickhead to move in. He’ll just get her pregnant again, and once she has the kid, I’ll be forced to look after this snotty little brat! My life would end!” He didn’t trust men with his mother. He planned to try his hardest to separate them. Why should she get the love that she never gave him? Or at least the love he thought she didn’t give him. “Urgh, Brodie, you just don’t dig me anymore. I thought you’d understand. Out of all the people.”

Wayde began to pace. He could imagine Terrytons going up in flames and him watching with a peaceful glint in his eyes. But her snapping attitude caught him off guard. “What?” Wayde asked, shocked at her sudden push. “You’re gonna kill me too, huh? Join the fucking queue.” He glared at her, a dark glare. “You know, you couldn’t kill me. You just want me to yourself. And if you did kill me, you’d keep me. You’d stuff me. You’d do stuff to my naked dead body, keep me trapped away in your basement. And don’t you lie, I know you fucking would.” Wayde said, nodding his head vigorously and believing everything he was saying. She needed him, didn’t she?

[Brodie Aldwyn]

And Lay it Down.

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[/b] She told him her eyes narrowed slightly as she folded her arms against the wall. "And what you got against the guy Wayde. He makes your mum happy. You should be happy because of that." Wow Brodie standing up to Wayde, they might had been best friends but Brodie had never been the one in charge, or the one to speak up like this. She just usually went along with his ideas so he would stick around with her a bit longer, that way she wasn't alone. Strange really the way you cling to people. "Out of all the people I do understand Wayde! I know what t its like to be abused you know, I know what its like to really be treated like shit. You have a mother, mines dead. You know. I never told you anything about it have I? You want to know what a really shitty childhood is like Wayde." She began her voice cold and almost emotionless. Why was all this coming out now, was it a bid to try and make him see that actually he could turn this all around. That what had happened to him was relatively painless compared to what she had been though, that it might shock him in to seeing that the situation wasn't as bad as it seems.

"I'll tell you Wayde, my dad used to beat my mum up, I would rather he fucked off when she got pregnant you know, maybe it was the kindest thing to do. he might have known he would have been a shit dad and spared you the pain." She sounded almost cruel in a way but at the same time there was that knowing sad look in her eye, the emotion bubbling below the surface slowly. "My dad used to hit my mum so hard it would break the bones, then he'd lock her in the bedroom so she couldn't go to the hospital and I would sit there and wonder why he did it. I saw it all. Then you know pain when a forty year old man lays in to a six year old child." It sounded almost impersonal in a way and yet it was everything but impersonal, there was a little crack in her voice. The first hint of audible emotion. "I used to black out after he hit me, and he'd kept going, there were whole months I couldn't go to school because they would see the injury's, you know what else he did Wayde. He raped me and not just once, thats a shitty fucking childhood Wayde, you have it easy. You have a chance at a new family, your mums happy and if shes happy you should be happy. Make a fucking go at it." She told him by now for voice wavered but there were no tears.

She didn't like crying about it in front of people, it was that simple. Not even Wayde now he knew the truth.
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[Wayde Manfield]

Wayde gave her a defiant stare, glaring deeply into her, burning holes into her. Why did she have to disagree? Why couldn’t she just agree with everything he was saying, nod and agree so they could go cause some damage. Sometimes he just couldn’t understand Brodie. Other times she would be so up for what he wanted, so agreeing, it was almost like they shared thoughts. Yet now, now they were on the opposite ends of the pitch. It was like Wayde was standing in the rain, alone, with hair dye staining his face, running down in big damp shafts, and here was Brodie, across the way, surrounded by green grass and sunshine. He didn’t like it, he didn’t appreciate it.

“Alright?” Wayde repeated aggressively. “He’s with my mom! How could he be ‘alright’?!” he took deep breaths, his heart rate increasing with anger of her words. “What do I have against him? He’s with my MOM! How many times do I have to tell you. I don’t even want my mom happy. She makes me unhappy, why should she get happy when all she does is insult me and bang on about how I’m not good enough and how great my step brother is. How fucking great his grades are, his friends are!” He spat on the ground, hocking it and spitting it. He was really angry, at Brodie, at his mother. Why couldn’t she believe in him? And Brodie was just being a bitch, as far as he was concerned. “You don’t understand.” Wayde said the most famous line of a stereotypical teenager. “No body understands me. Everyone just hates me and thinks I’m some weirdo hard guy.” He moaned aggressively. Wayde sighed. He didn’t want to know of Brodie’s childhood, he was really too selfish to bother to know, to care. She had a therapist to talk to, didn’t she? He didn’t and it was his life he was caring about, not hers. Wayde never cared about anyone but himself though, except for Brodie when she came in trouble.

“I wish mine was dead!” Wayde scarped. He didn’t mean that, but when did Wayde ever say anything that he meant or at least anything that he thought about. He never did. He would just insult and insult and insult and then not care, not think about who was listening to them, what they thought or why they thought. He was a supreme example of selfishness. As Brodie began to talk, Wayde rolled his eyes. He was starting to see her like a tag along. He was starting to see her as someone to do his bidings for him, rather than a friend. He was in her band but what did that matter? He could make it his band if he tried to, surely? He started to notice the fact that he was alone, all alone and he had driven everyone that way. Or had people drove him that way? He preferred the second option. He never wanted to take responsibility. It was always the fault of another’s, never his.

“Oh big wow, he used to beat up your mom, not like you don’t beat everyone up.” He started, but shut up as she continued. “Well my father didn’t know my mom was pregnant. My mom doesn’t know who my father is, but anyways continue.” He said with a sarcastic, fake, sickly smile. You could tell it was fake, he wasn’t very happy with Brodie at all. He wondered what would be said if he ran away, or killed himself, blaming her, blaming everyone. Or would they just blame him? He felt a shiver pass over his bones as he pictured his coffin going down into the ground. He pictured his mother standing around, but she wasn’t crying. She was just looking at the coffin, a pale, sane face on her lips. People from school surrounded the coffin also. They threw letters down on top of it, letters of hate, black roses, blades, voodoo dolls with a lock of his hair attached. It wasn’t a nice thought and it scared him. He wanted to hide away from the thought, to run from it.

Wayde glanced up at Brodie the more she talked. Yet the fear of her words began to eat up at him, the shock, and his coffin image began to build up. More hate mail over him. Pins thrown at the coffin, rubbish. It was her words which caused the rubbish to be thrown. And finally, when everyone had left, Brodie walked forwards and she held a gun, a large gun like what they used in wars. She held it towards his coffin and a bang was heard. Smoke echoed from the box, and a hole lay buried in his heart.

Wayde jumped and shook himself fiercely, looking around him as if an invisible person had just attacked him. He was discomforted, afraid, by his own mind, his own thoughts. “Yeah?” he asked, looking harshly at Brodie. He looked at her as though she’d just shot him, just like his day dream. “Well you have my family, you have my life, I’d take yours any day.” He bellowed at her, again not thinking about what he was saying. He didn’t know how he felt. He hated her father for what he’d done, but again he was too wrapped up in himself and his imagination. “You’re gonna drive me to suicide with everything you’re saying! Cut it out!” he barked, backing himself to a wall and shrinking down it. The floor was cold against his body but he didn’t care. He just sat there, resting his face in his palms, his elbows on his knees. And a lone tear fell from his brown eyes. He didn’t even notice it. He was too shocked, too scared at what she’d said. But deep down he knew it, she was right. Of course she was right.

[Brodie Aldwyn]

For all to see so clearly it be.

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[/b] She said her voice completely portraying the well of emotions inside her. "I...I thought you cared." She stuttered as she looked at him utterly crushed. "How...I've told you things I didn't even tell the police." She told him as she cried. "I thought you cared about me! You just like the rest of them!" She yelled backing off again until her back hit the wall. "You just like him..." She whispered this time, sliding down the wall slowly as she curled up. He had never seen her like this that was for sure.

It was strange to see Brodie, such a hard girl reduced to tears in an alleyway as she cried in to her knees. "I thought you cared..." She said again. She hadn't expected him to yell at her, he hadn't expected him to accuse her of driving him to suicide. She closed her eyes, and she could see that room again; the blood; her mother lying on the floor; the razor blade on the mat; the white tiles and floor smeared with deep red blood that glazed catching the light with every drop at every angle, catching the light in a deadly light show.

She would never forget that image in her whole life.

Shaking now she let out a quiet sob. Why was she breaking down after telling him, why was reduced to this? She didn't understand. Was it because she wanted him to care so much she had convinced himself she would at least get a 'it wasn't your fault' from him because she needed to hear it.

In her own mind she had driven her mother to suicide. Now she was doing the same with Wayde.

It would all be her fault again.
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[Wayde Manfield]

Wayde heard her words, but didn’t look up. He’d heard them before, not from a girl he liked, but from other people. Sometimes he got it from friends of victims he’d hurt. Other times he’d got it from parents when his and the others had to be brung in. Generally it would be two rich people and their snotty son, against him and his mom with a principal in between the two. People would ask him why he did it, and he’d reply with a stupid reason and people would ask him how he could say it, what sort of person he was. And then his own mom would turn on him, and he’d be sat there, slouched in his seat, listening but not really listening to everyone in the room. It always ended up the same anyways.

But now his funeral was on his mind and what he wanted to do with it. Did he want to get cremated? He decided it would probably be better, afterall no one can shoot you if you’re ash. Wayde didn’t want to die, he never would die, he feared death. He thought of himself as immortal. If he slashed his wrists, then he would stay alive, stronger. He’d be the blood boy, that’s all. He’d have battle wounds to show who he was and how he was that way.

Wayde spied a look at her, the girl, the broken down girl. The girl he’d forced to tears. Yet for once he wasn’t getting a kick. He wasn’t feeling anything really, just a confused blankness. A numbess. Yet he felt shaken, as if something had happened to him, something scary, something traumatic. He just didn’t know what. "Don't say that," he replied back in a hushed tone.

Wayde stood up and dazily sludged towards her and sat next to her. He glanced at her tears and put his arm on her back as a sign of comfort, even if she didn’t want it. “I do care about you.” Wayde replied back softly. “And it’s good that you feel like you can trust me.” He continued, “But you don’t know me. You think you do, but you don’t.” No one did. In fact he didn’t even know if he knew himself. He didn’t know anything anymore. All he knew was that he was a bad person and he’d accepted that. All he knew was that black was a good colour and that blood was red. “But don’t compare me to your father. I’d never rape someone, never mind a child.”

He pushed himself downwards and lay spread out in the alleyway. He pulled off his jacket, followed quickly by his top, and he just lay. His bare back pressed against the floor, that same chilly floor which froze out his soul. “I’m a bad person, Brodie. Don’t expect sympathy from me, I can’t give you any…” Wayde watched Brodie out of the corner of his eye. He watched her cry, slightly confused. Why did she hang around him? “But I do care about you. And that’s why I’m going to tell you something,” he began quietly. “I’m going to quit the band, I’ve just decided. Right now. And I’m gonna quit our friendship. And I’m doing this all for you because I care.” He stared emotionless at the sky. The only emotions was the ones coming from his eyes. Small tears, small little rain drops, and he let them flow this time. He had to let them flow, they were silent, they were small, and it was potentially the first time he could remember crying. But still, it was happening. The rest of him was just still, still against the cold earth. “I do care about you,” he repeated. “I really do care…”