Fireworks from the soul, sometimes he sets them off...

So I changed my default pic might as well add a journel while I'm here right??
let me know what you think :)
I've already started the next chapter so it shall be quickly!

I'll promise you anything but another shot as life -
Chapter 8

Dear Pete,
              I know Hayley told me not to tell anyone but I feel like I shouldn’t keep anything from you.
She’s in trouble, I know she is.
She'd rather die than let me help her and that’s what scares me.
Have you ever felt so frustrated with someone because they wont let you in?
I know you have a sister,
do you get on with her?
I hate Hayley’s secrecy because she’s the only one who tells me the truth
and you’re meant to be able to rely on family, right?
I love Hayley more than anyone has ever loved their sister.
I want to cry but I cant find the emotions.
I want to scream but I cant find the voice.
I want to stop feeling like I’m the only one that doesn’t matter.
Did you ever really hate someone for being private?
Have you ever felt bad for being angry at someone you love?
I hope not,
I want only the best for you.

Your ever faithful admirer and one-sided pen-pal

Marie xx

Hayley was an emotional wreck but she held it back when we ran into her outside the Pizza place.

“What’s wrong?” I asked wanting to step forward but not being able to break the connection between Pete and I.

“Nothing.” she snapped and glared at me like it was my fault she was crying.
She turned her back on me and I did reach out to touch her but the second my hand made contact with her shoulder she wheeled around and slapped it off viciously. “LEAVE ME ALONE!” she shouted and turned back to go into the pizza place.
I felt anger, sadness, tears, rage all well up inside me but none of them would come out. They couldn’t form words, or actions, they just churned inside me like a washing machine.

“Marie?” Pete hesitantly put an arm round me but still no senses would kick in because I felt useless and rejected.
I didn’t, no, couldn’t say anything until we were back on the tour bus and Pete was fixing us coffee.

“Marie are you okay?”

“I’m -” I started but I couldn’t muster any words that described the torment in me.
Hayley hated me.
I could tell it her voice, but these thoughts wouldn’t be explained through mere words.
My eyes threateningly blurred but I forced them back brutally, I vowed that I’d never cry again as long as I lived.
I crumpled defeated onto the floor sliding down the wall I’d been using as support, I couldn’t hold myself together how was I meant to hold Hayley together too?
Pete came and loyally sat next to me, I could hear his breathing in the dead tour bus which was soothing. I wanted to curl up into a ball with him and leave the rest of the world to destroy itself.

“Hayley hates me.” I croaked still forcing my tears out of my ducts.

“She doesn’t hate you.” Pete soothed putting his warm arm around my freezing shoulders, I felt the muscles in my shoulders dissolve weakly under his touch.

“You don’t know her.” I argued.

“She’s your sister, she can’t hate you.”

“Not all families get on.” I scoffed. Pete sighed realising my opinion wouldn’t budge and settled on rubbing my arm and squeezing my shoulders together comfortingly.

“Look Marie, I understand families don’t get on.” he looked down at me but I looked self consciously away not feeling that I looked my best. Also not trusting putting my face so close to his.

“I know, your parents are divorced right?” I asked without thinking. He raised an eyebrow in surprise but his eyes deepened with sadness as I reminded him.

“Yeah…you know…” he swivelled his body round to mine. “I’ve never spoken to anyone about this before.” longing hung on every syllable of his sentence.

“Really? Why not?” I blinked although I’m sure we shared the same reason for not talking about our families.

“Because…” he started “it’s personal and I don’t want everyone knowing how easy it was to hurt me.” his face bore the expression of someone remembering their heart.

“I feel exactly the same.” I smiled weakly. “I don’t want people to judge me differently because of it, like give me sympathy because they think I want it.” I admitted sheepishly. Pete smiled and flicked his eyes down me for a split second before pulling his sight back to my face. I turned my face down to look at the floor, I could still feel his gaze on me.

“Marie…” he stopped his sentence again as though thinking how to phrase his thoughts.

“Yeah?”

“…what happened to your family?” he closed his eyes and hung his head down like he was disappointed in himself for saying the wrong thing.

“erm…my dad…he…died.” I looked down at the wooden flooring seeing everything but the answers in the wood’s pattern.

“Oh…” I begged him not to apologise, to say he was sorry for someone he didn’t know, who meant nothing to him. It would only insult his memory.

“I had no idea.”

“Like I said, I don’t want anyone’s sympathy!” I snapped and bounced off the floor and stormed over to the sink where I poured myself a glass of water.

“I wasn’t going to pity you.” he mumbled, dropping his arm and getting up and coming to stand behind me.

“I don’t know how to.” he scoffed. I slammed my glass on the worktop and wheeled around only to find he was inches away from my face. Shock left my mouth slightly open and breathing was suddenly very obvious as the rise and fall of my chest increased steadily.
I could smell his aftershave shamefully covering his natural musk, but you could still smell the real Pete underneath.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I whispered giving him my own eye flick.
He opened his mouth to admit this secret thing he’d been trying to tell me since the moment we were in the car but he placed his hands either side of me on the worktop and pressed his stomach against mine as he leaned his head forward.
I lifted mine instinctively and he was about to find out one of my most private secrets…

“Pete…” I pulled away before our lips could meet.

“What?” he wasn’t really concentrating on my words as he nudged my nose with his own impatiently.

“I’ve never…” I grimaced.

“What? Come on, you can tell me!” he chuckled.

“Kissed a guy.” admitting this he smiled slightly but not in a mocking way.

“I don’t care.” he sung and bent his head done again. I was so nervous, what if I was no good?
What if I went to the wrong side?
What if he was joking?
The worst thing he could do now was pull away. I was millimetres apart from fulfilling every girl’s (and some boy’s) dream of being attached to Pete’s mouth. The door burst open and Pete leapt back in horror. I was left reeling and still hyperventilating.

“Oh…er…hi Patrick…” my snapped my head round and sure enough Patrick was glowering from the open tour bus door. I went even redder and I felt my skin burn from the sudden rush of heat that flooded in. Patrick didn’t say anything but his narrowed blue eyes swivelled from Pete to me scrutinising everything about us including the tense atmosphere.

“The guys will be back soon.” he stated looking at me hard in the face.

“I’ll make us all a cup of-” I picked up a packet of the thing next to me, “water.” I finished flatly looking cringingly at the jug I now held stupidly in my hand. Patrick turned his face slowly to Pete;

“Oh and Ashlee’s here.” he announced making my spine tingle with dread.

Would I ever open up?

Would Pete be my first kiss?

Would Ashlee not ruin my other shot at life?

I wish.