Why do you care what people think? Are you hooked up to their leash? You know anklebiters ate up your personality.
Lux mostly has the common irrational fears anyone on the street could have: clowns, spiders, public speaking, and heights, for example. It doesn't come from anything symbolic, although (unless watching Stephen King's It counts). They have not had a major effect on her life or hindered her in any way, like some of her others. They are rather petty, and have not added to her demise.
That doesn't mean she doesn't have any of the like. Lux has had a major fear of being judged, since she began to comprehend her "family situation", if that makes any sense. Being abandoned by her parents right after she was born did not give her a healthy boost of self esteem, only the opposite. It led her to believe she wasn't good enough, cared about, or anything of that sort. She strayed away from anything that would make her stand out and be noticed (that she could help). She never stood up for herself, or anyone, for that matter, and went as far as to refrain from as much social interaction as possible. Awesome party saturday night? Lux so isn't there. Homecoming? Nope. Friday night Football game? Not quite.
Another one of her major fears is being abandoned. After Lux was given up and abandoned by her parents, she became extremely fearful of the like. She hardly let anyone close to her, and when she did, she became extremely clingy. She let her demons mess with her head, and tell her she needed to do so. In her mindset, she would be abandoned if she didn't hang on tight. (She didn't want to abandon anyone as well.) Her fear only harmed her more, although. It wasn't her fault, and never will be.
Over the years, Lux has gotten better over controlling her fears, rational and irrational, but they will continue to plague her for life.
what is a man who can't take a stand for his daughter, and calls it tough love, tough love
hotel rooms, bourbon and broads, a drifter living life without God
you've done it now, you planted a seed, now the storm inside you, it swallows her
Mackenzie couldn't sleep. She didn't quite know what time it was because the only clock in the room was an analog clock, and she didn't know how to read that yet. She only knew it was really, really dark outside and the house was silent. The last thing Mackenzie had heard was the door slamming and the engine of a car - presumably her father's - revving. She guessed he was going out tonight to drink, which wasn't a surprise. Only five and a half years old, and Mackenzie was already very familiar with the effects of alcohol on the body. Only five and a half years old and she had already promised herself she would never touch alcohol. Not even once.
She was curled up in her blankets, shivering, when she heard it. A little creak of the door as it opened. Mackenzie tensed, sinking lower into her sheets, feigning sleep. In the back of her head, she knew that it was only her mother, since she had already come to the conclusion that her father wasn't in the house. But hiding... Hiding was something she was good at. She had been taught by her mother since birth to hide whenever the door creaks open, to hide whenever her father was drunk. Because if she didn't, she could get hurt. And Mackenzie knew first hand what hurt was. Hiding was automatic, wired into her brain after years of experience.
"Shh, Kenzie, it's only me." Mackenzie hears her mother whisper, confirming her suspicion that her father was out. "Are you awake?"
Mackenzie finally sits up, wrapping the blanket around her shoulders. She nodded. "I'm awake. Mommy, I can't fall asleep." she murmured, rubbing her eyes. Her mother nods, comforting her in whispers. After a moment, Mackenzie's mother gets up and heads over to the door, turning on the lights. "Um, Mommy, are you sure we can do that?" Mackenzie said, eyes wide. Her mother never opened the lights, not unless directed to.
Her mother only nods. "Absolutely, my angel. Because you know what? We're going to be leaving now. We won't ever have to worry about the lights anymore." She said, turning around to face Mackenzie. She had a weary smile on her face, a smile Mackenzie has never seen. It seemed so natural, like nothing was weighing her down. It made Mackenzie happy.
"Where are we going?" she asked, as her mother scurried around the room, opening the closet door and pulling out suitcases she had hidden.
A minute and two suitcases later, Mackenzie's mother turned back around. Ignoring her question, she pulled her wispy hair back into a loose bun and headed over to where Mackenzie sat. "Come on, get dressed. I picked what to wear already, but grab your coat. It might not be cold here, but it'll be cold in Portland." she said, handing Mackenzie her clothes. Confused but still obedient, Mackenzie started putting on the clothes her mother handed her, all the while repeating her question: "where are we going?"
This time, she got an answer. Her mother's face fell slightly, years weighing back down on her. "Angel, we're leaving Orlando. We're moving across the country, to a place called Portland. It's in Oregon. Do they teach you this sort of thing in kindergarten?"
Mackenzie shook her head, both in reply and out of confusion. "Is Daddy coming?" she asked shakily.
It was her mother's turn to shake her head. "Mackenzie, darling, we won't have to worry about him anymore. Never again."
Mackenzie was still confused. She shook her head faster, flinging her dirty blonde curls around her head. "I don't get it. You two are married." she said. Her mother only smiled.
"Not anymore. I've been working on this for the past half year, Kenzie. They just cleared it tonight. Your father and I are officially divorced."
Mackenzie felt the colour drain from her face. She was beyond confused. Divorced meant "not married", right? Her mother couldn't be simply not married. What about her? Does this mean Mackenzie no longer had a father? "Come on, Kenzie. I have a taxi waiting for us, we have to go now." Her mother called. Mackenzie didn't know what to do. She couldn't stay, not with her father. That was practically be a death sentence. She couldn't leave either, not her home town. Everything she'd ever known was Florida, even counting her childhood of abuse. Every day was torture, but Mackenzie couldn't imagine any other life. Though she had dreamed of this moment for the longest time, leaving seemed like it was no longer an option.
But, being the scared little five year old she was, Mackenzie took her mother's hand and followed her into the cab.
And all throughout the ride to the airport, Mackenzie finally realized why her father fell into drink. She realized why her father left tonight, 2am, to a bar. Because sometimes, realities are just easier to deal with when unconscious.
spread until you ache
and put those filthy hands
back in those dirty pockets
There's Joshua, in the middle of the messy bed. He has two needles balanced on his knee, and he's fussing with a purple Bic lighter. "Shut the fuck up, yeah?" He retorts, glaring at her. His eyes are muddy, no longer the gorgeous chocolate that she fell in love with two years ago. He's thin and bruised, dirty, a flee bitten mongrel that she's picked up off the streets. If she didn't know better, she'd say that he was rabies infected, and just as unlovable as she was herself. But they were both unlovable, and that was where they found their connection.
She moves her bony knees and makes herself a spot on the bed, shamelessly putting her cigarette out on the mattress and flicking it to the side. He looks up at her, and for the first time since he picked her up from the motel room four down the hall, gives her a good once over. Then, he reaches out and jabs the bright and angry hickey that swallows the curve of her collarbone. "The fuck is that, Liv?" He asks, almost knocking a needle to the floor. Quick fingers snatch it before it hits the rug, and he's back to staring her down with hollow eyes. "I thought I said no marks. If you're gonna fuck people for smack, I said no marks."
Olive can't help but glare and push his hand away from her. That was their latest deal; Joshua would find her someone willing to pay for her to end up underneath him for the night, and he'd pick her up an hour later. With whatever cash she had in her pocket once the hour was over, they'd get their next fix. Lather, rinse, repeat. She is not proud of herself and she resents the boy sitting next to her, no matter how much she says she loves him. The skinny girl does not love him; rather, she loves the drug he is currently prepping.
She loves the high. The rush. The flushed skin and then the numbness that follows. It's what she looks for most; the numbness. Life had it's relentless claws under her skin and all she wanted most was a release from it.
Joshua does it first. Needle under skin, white powder sloppily lined up against the back of his hand, satisfied groan from his pale lips. Then, he tenses up. Pupils blow. He starts to shake and Olive doesn't move an inch. Synapses burst, veins burst, heart beats falter. He's choking on air, and then as soon as it begins, it's over. Shaky fingers dial 911: "I need an ambulance." And then, she hangs up, doesn't touch anything-- finger prints were a bitch. Puts her shoes on, grabs her coat. Pauses.
His jeans are on the floor and she's quick to grab his wallet from it. There are five 20 dollar bills, some odd change, a debit card that she knows has nothing on it, his drivers license, and a dime bag of cocaine. She stuffs it into her coat pocket and leaves no sign on ever existing in that motel room.
The next morning, Olive finds herself in a tiny coffee shop on the corner of an LA block. The news is playing a story of an unidentified, young adult male in his 20's, found dead of a drug overdose in a Super 8 motel room.
"Police arrived on scene after a brief phone call from an unidentified woman asking for an ambulance. There was no sign of the woman once police vehicles arrived. If anyone has any knowledge of who the young woman was, or any information on the male found at the scene, please call..."
Alex stumbled back in the direction of the bus he called home, trying to hold in his emotions.
Just a few more steps, I’ll be fine, I’m okay, I’m okay.
Alex’s thoughts were racing, a slight limp to each uneven step he took. He didn’t even remember how, but he’d managed to hurt his ankle at some point during the night. Originally, he’d just gone out for a walk. The vocalist had just wanted to go out and get air, get out of the cramped space of the bus for a little while after the band’s set. He’d ended up in some dank bar, meeting up with an odd group of strangers. After a few drinks, though, everyone’s your best friend.
Laughter and loud voices stopped once Alex was led out of the bar. But not the same way he’d come in. No, this was different. This wasn’t even the same place anymore. His head spun after finishing another drink, one handed to him by another face he didn’t recognize. The lack of food in his stomach, combined with the recent rapid loss of body mass, left Alex drunk within less than an hour.
Suddenly, the spinning in his head was too much. This wasn’t just drunk. This wasn’t his usual just high enough to be comfortable in his own skin. No… This was wrong. There must have been something in the drink. But the confusion didn’t last, and it couldn’t have been more than a few moments before Alex found himself on the floor.
Had he fallen? Had someone pushed him? That question was quickly answered when he felt the first contact of a fist against his jaw. Alex was barely focused enough to know what was happening, but the blows kept coming. Punches, kicks, a few drinks were tossed on him. Just before he lost consciousness, Alex could hear a voice in his ear.
“That’s for the money you owe me. Next time, it’s more than a beating.”
Alex’s stomach dropped sickeningly. He’d been behind on more than one payment to his various dealers lately, and he knew it. What he hadn’t anticipated, however, was the consequences.
That was how Alex found himself, beaten down and bloody, who knew how many hours later, outside of the All Time Low bus. It’d been long enough that he’d mostly sobered up, but he didn’t want anyone seeing him, not right now, not like this. So Alex did what he always had when he found himself in trouble he couldn’t handle alone. A quick text message was all it took. A few seconds later, the door to the bus opened, and Alex looked over from where he’d been, leant against the side.
“Alex? Are you- Alex! What happened?” Jack Barakat stepped out into the cool night air, a look of concern on his face for his best friend. Alex couldn’t take it. He was tired of lying, he was tired of acting okay and like everything was fine.
“Jack… I fucked up.” Alex choked out, his voice hoarse. That was all he managed to get out before he broke into sobs, dropping himself into the arms of the taller male
Alex has a lot of fears in life. His most obvious and notable is how terrified he is to end up alone. Relationship after relationship has failed him, and he can’t see himself really settling down with anyone anymore. He knows most of them ending have been his own fault, and he can’t really bring himself to try to date anyone anymore. His other more serious fear is being attacked again, that or overdosing. He’s come close before, but Alex has never actually done extreme damage to himself with his drug usage. However, there are times where he mixes things he shouldn’t, and he’s had a few close calls.
Alex’s less rational fear is definitely zombies. For whatever reason, he has convinced himself that one day there will be a zombie apocalypse. (I, for one, blame it on all of the zombie movies, TV shows, and documentaries he watches.) He has lots of other small irrational fears. Spiders, falling into a wood chipper, serial killers, and car accidents, all of those sorts of things that everyone is afraid of.
Alex is also definitely afraid of Genesis, as everyone on the tour is. He fears showing affection towards anyone, just because he doesn’t want to end up having to hurt them again.
I reserve my right to feel uncomfortable, reserve my right to be afraid
This stemmed one of her biggest fears: the fear of anger. Or more so, people angry at her. Ken can't stand people yelling at her. If someone even raises their voice harshly, she completely shuts down to a point where she can't even understand what the person is saying, she's just concentrating on not crying. This is similar of her fear of fighting or fights. Seeing fights in movies or television for her is similar to a horror marathon for others; she can't stand it. If she witnesses two people fighting, she will leave immediately. And if someone even lays a hand on her too roughly, she will freeze up.
Another fear of hers is abandonment/loneliness. Mackenzie had no stable relationships with anybody until high school. Whenever she had even made a friend in a place, she got re-located either to another state/province or a city too far to stay in contact. She has no contacts from her childhood, no friends who've known her since birth. Her first thirteen and a half years of her life was basically lived all on her own. Being alone for the rest of her life is a prospect that's looking more and more likely and it's something Ken is terrified of.
The rest of her fears are irrational ones, such as insects, snakes, heights... Those doesn't haunt her in the middle of the night like her other fears do. Those she could live with.
Olive is terrified of death, and it's a rational fear. When she was eighteen, she witnessed her long time boyfriend overdose on a speed ball. The mental image of him seizing, of the whites of his eyes rolling forward and soon turning blood shot is something that haunts even the smallest corners of her mind and therefore, creates a fear of death itself, death in general. She hates the vagueness that comes with the idea of death; is it like sleep, does she get the golden chariot to the sky, does she get the red carpet to hell? She doesn't know, and she doesn't like not knowing.
02. ABANDONMENT/LOSS
Born to two young socialite parents who were more concerned about dinner parties than raising a child took a toll on Olive. From the tender age of three, she was bounced back and forth between being raised by elderly nannies and her own grandparents. Her father made it his mission to have Olive fully aware of how he felt about her; she was simply no more than a burden. She was something he and her mother never wanted, and they made it clear in the amount of time she spent alone. She's only allowed a small amount of people to get close to her; the boys in Pierce The Veil, their youngest sister, Kellin and the boys in Sleeping With Sirens, and she's absolutely terrified to lose any of them. As of recently, Kellin has become pretty high on her list of people she's scared to lose, although she hates admitting her fondness towards him.
03. SPIDERS
Bitten by one as a young child; set the stage for a spider phobia.
[#9] — LIFE’S NO FUN WITHOUT A GOOD SCARE [part 1/2]
The fear of middle school children and middle school in general wasn't something that was caused by their appearance, height or general high pitched squeals and bad stench; more by the fact that they had the ability to conjure up some of the harshest and most brutal insults that you could hear from a person. As a kid Jaime wasn't the coolest, the sportiest (despite his love of Soccer) nor was he the slimmest. And you know kids - if there's a flaw they'll pick at it. That's where Jaime's fear of being picked on for being fat came from. He wasn't even fat it was just the fact they could pick on him for something that obviously irked him as an 11 year old boy. Maybe it's not that he is even afraid to go back to the days of being pushed an being called "chub" but maybe it's the fact that people now could find out about the weakness that built him up to be so secretive today. The weakness that pushed him to diet so much he made himself sick. To work out so much that he could burst a blood vessel. If anyone knew that he was 'the fat kid' he would crumble to a heap.
