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Getting Over You

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I sat heavily into my chair, kicking my feet out and letting the cushions absorb me. I wish they would just suck me down into the darkness so I didn't have to deal with this shit anymore. Everything would just be black and cold and nothing.
My glass of Jack and coke had been sitting on the table next to me long enough that the condensation was making a little moat for it. I ran my finger through it, drawing senseless shapes around the outside of my glass. Not even the alcohol was helping anymore. The pills at least helped me sleep.
Each day for the past week I had done nothing but drink, party, and drink some more. When I wasn't at the bar, I was at home, drinking and drugging myself into a coma before everything could catch up to me. It's so much easier to get wasted and pass out than to think about him.
Anything to keep Ronnie Radke out of my head.
I wish I never accepted his offer to be in his music video. I wish I never met him. I wish I never walked through that door to that studio and felt what I felt. And I wish he never felt it too.
I've always admired Ronnie. He's talented, he doesn't give a single fuck about his opposers, and he's not anything like his image at all. Well, maybe a little, but not in the way you think. I had looked up to him for years, thinking it would be the coolest thing to work with him.
But when I walked through the door, I had no idea that my first actual look at him would send my heart plummeting through the floor.
It was like nothing I'd ever felt before, when our eyes met I felt the electricity pulse between us like lightning, as cliché as that sounds it's the only way to describe it.
Some things you just know, and right in that moment I knew Ronnie was going to be more than just a fellow musician and friend. He was going to be so much more than that.
Just like every other night, I was going to replay the first time I met him over and over again in my head untilI passed out.. I was a glutton for punishment.
He shook my hand as I came in, his smile dazzling me. I faltered for a moment, probably looking like an idiot, but recovered and smiled back. Thank god I was wearing shades, so he couldn't see me staring right at him.
“Can't believe I have Trace Cyrus up in here! This is gonna be sick as fuck.” He clapped me on the back and led me to the set where we would be filming the video for his bands song “Bad Girls Club”.
I swallowed hard, hoping he didn't notice. “I've been so pumped about this since you called, man. I'm honored to work with you.”
Realizing I probably looked like a douche, I removed my sunglasses. Big mistake, well it wasn't at the time. He smiled and looked me dead in the eye. It was like someone shot me in the chest. I had never felt such a feeling, something as profound or real. I've been with women from around the world, I've felt all kinds of ways about all kinds of girls, but never any men. Not to say deep down in the secret parts of me I hadn't thought about it. But it wasn't something I sought out.
But right now, all I wanted to do was seek out every part of the man in front of me.
Ronnie held my gaze for a moment too long, the tension between us so tight you could cut it with a spoon. I felt my hands get clammy and my neck and ears starting to get warm. He ran his hand through his hair, sweeping the long locks back and out of his face.
For the rest of the day we got to know each other, talking about the video, setting up, and finally shooting. We got it all done in one day, there wasn't much to do, Ronnie always got his scenes in only a few takes. When I wasn't on camera, I watched him. He was such a ham, eating up the camera like it was his last supper. I loved watching him, hearing his voice over the speakers so he could perform along to his own music. He was perfect.
The girls from the video hung around me when they weren't on set, distracting me from Ronnie, but I played along so I didn't look too obvious. They were all beautiful, each one of them doing their best to try and get my attention most. The thing about being a celebrity is I forget that I am one until people I don't know act that way. I'm just a regular guy, really.
Being on camera with Ronnie was amazing, he completely changed up there, so much energy, a twinkle in his eye I hadn't noticed before. We finished the shoot with one of our scenes, and when the director said “That's a wrap!” He hugged me hard and trotted off stage, tossing his satin jacket aside and hugging everyone who was involved. To thank everyone, he hosted a little party in the studio. Booze, food, it was great.
Before we knew it, the clock said 10 pm and people started leaving, not realizing it was as late as it was. My manager asked if I was ready to go, but before I could answer, Ronnie came up, resting his arm around my shoulders.
“Aw, your not leaving yet, are you? I really wanted to pick your brain a little, I feel like we hardly got a chance to talk today, and I've been really excited to have you here.”
My manager shrugged, saying he was leaving, shaking Ronnie’s hand and thanking him for the opportunity on my behalf.
“Text me when your home so I know that crazy fans didn't eat you alive or something.” He smiled and left.
There were only a few people left, the rest of Falling in Reverse, a few of the pretty girls from the video, and some of Ronnie’s friends that I didn't know. Everyone but Ronnie pounded some shots, laughter bouncing off the walls as we all told stories and jokes. Eventually people started leaving and by one am it was just me and Ronnie, which was fine by me. He and I got along amazingly, it was so relaxing just talking about music and touring with him.
We both ended up on the couch, sipping our drinks, rum for me, straight coke for him. We had sunk into a moment of quiet, just enjoying each other's company, but the air of sexual tension was definitely there. Ronnie looked over from his seat next to me. I took a drag of my cigarette and kept my eyes forward, noticing him in my peripherals. He sipped his drink, eyes on me.
I turned to look at him and he smiled, his eyes darting away quickly. He busied himself taking a deep swig of his drink. I could see his fingers trembling but I didn't say anything. He wanted me too and I could feel it.
“Your one of the smartest people I've ever met.” I said to him, and I meant it. The look he gave me said he didn't believe me. “I'm serious! You think about music in a way I would have never thought about it. Not to mention you look damn good while you sing the amazing music you wrote.”
I saw his cheeks redden and he smiled, rubbing his face with his hand. I definitely needed to cool it on the rum before I said something stupid and messed it all up.
Ronnie stood then, stepping past me to walk to the fridge and get some ice for his drink. I watched him go, his lower half still covered by the black satin suit pants used in the video shoot, top half in a loose fitting tank top. I had put a shirt back on a while ago, not wanting to be weird while we hung out. I took a big pull from my glass, not even feeling it burn anymore, then kicked my feet up onto the coffee table in front of me, lounging back into the leather cushions. Ronnie turned around and came back towards me, my feet blocking his route to his seat beside me.
I guess my filter had disappeared completely, thank you Captain Morgan. I grinned up at him when he stopped, his shins bumping my calves as if to push past. He chuckled, setting his drink down. He stepped one leg over mine and stopped, straddling me. My chest tightened up as he bent down resting his hands on my thighs and looking me right in the eyes. His eyes pierced through me, and my breath caught for a moment. He snickered, sliding his hands up over my hips, stomach, and coming to rest on my chest. He had lowered himself down and was sitting on my lap, filling my vision with him. He was so close I could taste him, he smelled like skin and leather, which turned me on more then I'd like to admit.
I lowered feet from the table, the motion moving him more into my lap. His hands ran up over my chest and down my shoulders and arms, his hands finding mine. I knew my breath was getting more and more ragged with each touch, his fingers leaving the skin under them tingling. He picked my hands up and placed them on his hips.
“Don't be nervous.” He said smoothly, his eyelids getting heavy and he leaned in closer. My hands gripped him, shaking against him. I slid my fingers under the edge of his shirt and felt him tremble at the touch. He tipped his head back, a small sound escaping him as I moved my hands higher, feeling his tight muscles. I felt my stomach tense as he came closer, grinding slowly into me. I groaned, leaning my head back into the couch cushion. I felt his hot breath on my neck, his hands under my shirt, fingers splayed across my chest.
When I leaned my head back up he was right there, his nose touching the end of mine. His eyes were soft, full of lust. I couldn't take it anymore, just touching and heavy breathing. I wanted more. So I closed the gap between us and kissed him, my hands running up his back and pulling him closer.
His lips moved perfectly in sync with mine, his body giving in to my touch. I felt his hands run up my neck and into my hair, his tongue running across my bottom lip, asking for permission. I obliged, flicking his tongue with mine. He moaned into the kiss, his fingers tight in my hair. He was too much, he was intoxicating me. I loved every second of it.
Ronnie broke first, leaning back and looking into my eyes, his breath ragged. “Take me right here, right now.”
It was a demand, not a suggestion. And it sent me over the edge. I straightened up in my seat, pulling him into my lap, our bodies rubbing together. I could feel him through our clothes, pushing against the soft fabric of his suit pants. His hands were already at my belt, fumbling with it while kissing me hard at the same time. I ran my hands over his ass, gripping it and making him bite my lower lip in response. A deep sound ripped from me and I couldn't wait any longer.
In one smooth move I lifted him, his legs wrapping around my hips. I turned and laid him down on the couch, kissing him down his jaw and neck, nipping the tattooed skin roughly. He groaned, his shaking hands tangled in my hair. I grabbed his belt and tugged hard, yanking his slacks down. He shifted and let me take them off, revealing everything to me. His eyes were glassy as he looked up at me and I kissed him, I wanted him so bad right now. I fumbled with my belt and he helped, yanking my jeans down over my hips. He moaned when he saw me, lifting himself a bit to push his ass against me. I loved that he took control of all of this, showing me what he wanted.
I rocked back, rubbing myself against his ass, asking for entry. He leaned up and kissed me, one hand pulling my face hard into his.
“Fuck me, Trace. Harder than you've ever fucked in your life.”
And I did. I fucked his brains out right there. He bucked beneath me, his whole beautiful tattooed body quivering, hands all over me, trying to get control of himself. I fucked him so hard we ended up halfway on the floor. I had him cumming like a virgin, maybe he was, I didn't know. It turned me on so bad to watch him like that that I almost came myself. But he stopped me, making us tumble to the floor. He climbed in top of me and rode me, fingers toying with my nipples, biting his lip and gazing down at me. So sexy…
I dug my fingers into his bare hips, grinding up into him. My vision went spotty, I called out his name so loud it was good no one else was there with us. I twitched and writhed under him until every last piece of me was spent and I just collapsed into a heaving pile on the floor, sweat dripping from my forehead. Ronnie stood up, smiling down at me. He quickly pulled his pants back on and padded out of sight. I was just easing myself up when he came back in, puffing on his vape pen. I tugged my boxers on and plopped into the couch, taking the cig he had in his free hand, already lit. He sat down on my lap again, straddling me, blowing vapor out the corners of his mouth. I rested my free hand on his leg, rubbing circles with my thumb. He ran his fingers across my chest, tracing my tattoos with his fingertips, his hair hanging down in his face, tousled from our recent escapade. He looked stunning, chiseled features and carved muscles, ink and crystal blue eyes. Gorgeous.
He had me from that moment on, wrapped around his little finger. Anything he wanted I gave him, every night. I made him call my name so loud the whole city could hear us, I gave him everything I had in me to make him smile, to make him happy. All I wanted was his happiness, but all I got was a broken heart.
Just when you think you know someone, it turns out you don't know them at all.

Chapter Text

I realized my phone had been ringing in my pocket the entire time I was reminiscing. I fumbled until it popped out, and my sisters face and name assaulted my eyes. Before I could answer it went to voicemail, which is when I noticed I had three missed calls from her and about three thousand text messages.
I sighed, swiping her name on my screen and calling her back. It rang twice before I heard Miley’s voice in my ear.
“Trace?! Why haven't you answered me? What's going on? I've been so worried about you for like weeks. Everyone's been telling me about you and Ronnie and I haven't heard from you and I've been freaking out. Explanations please!”
The sound of his name made my eyes sting, and I had to fight back the tears that tried to escape. “I… Miley I need you right now.” I hadn't actually spoken a word to anyone today, just sat in my house drinking. Hearing how pathetic my own voice sounded made me even more depressed. He'd broken something inside me that I couldn't figure out how to fix.
“I'm coming over, right now. I'm bringing food, Taco Bell or McDonald's? Never mind, I know what you like anyway I'll be there in 20. Hang in there. I love you.”
“I love you too…” I whispered before she hung up.
It was like she flew there, bags of greasy food in hand, balancing an iced coffee and a sprite, and still managing to open and close the door behind her. She set everything down on the coffee table and flung herself at me, curling up with me in my chair, head on my chest. She really was the best, she always had been.
Before she could get a word out I burst into tears. I hadn't given myself the chance to grieve any of this, refusing to let him get to me. I felt a wave of relief wash over me, finally getting every last drop of hurt and sadness out. Miley just held me, arms around me, hands stroking my hair gently, cooing softly in my ear that it was gonna be okay eventually.
By the time I was done her shoulder was covered in hot tears and snot, but she didn't even care. I breathed, trying to keep myself from passing out from the hysterics, my lungs catching and my body shaking. I turned my puffy eyes up and looked at her, her eyes more concerned than I had ever seen them. She frowned, wiping the remainder of my tears from my eyes and nose like a mother to her son.
“Thank you,” I hiccuped, wiping my face on my shirt sleeve.
She tutted, smoothing my hair out. “So, do you want to talk to me about it? I've never seen you like this and it makes me sad. Give me a reason to kill that boy. You know I'll do it.”
She gave me that crazy look and I smiled a bit, the first time I'd done that in days. I hugged her, resting my forehead on her shoulder.
“Well, you already know he cheated on me. But it's not even that. I could work around that, we could have figured it out. The shitty thing is that he got her pregnant and has a baby on the way now.”
The words stung as I said them, my chest was getting tight, I didn't want to cry again. Miley's eyes got wide and her jaw slack..
“What?! Are you fucking kidding me? Are you fucking kidding me!” The incredulous look on her face made me feel better about it, knowing that I wasn't wrong for feeling the way I did. To me, it was just too painful that he'd slept with someone else, a girl no less, and made life with her. Something we could never do, he'd done with another person while we were still together. It hurt me to the deepest parts of my soul.
“Tell me everything.” She said, leaning back and crossing her arms expectantly.
So I did.
We had been dating for almost a year, and we were inseparable. Everyone loved it, the fans, our friends and family. It was great. We were perfect. After that first night in the studio where we filmed, he called me every day, asking me to come over, or go somewhere, or if he could come up. Before I could text him he texted me in the morning. After a few weeks of hanging out and fucking every night, I asked him if he wanted to go public with this. Being as famous as he is, that was a huge commitment. He said yes without a care, and that night he tweeted about it. It got 400,000 likes in a matter of hours. Insane. A couple of metal magazines and webzines reached out, asking for interviews, the LGBT community was eating up the news like coke in a crack house. Instagram blew up, Twitter, everything. Miley herself had been over the moon about it, being as big of a supporter to the gay community as she is. As she said on Instagram, “My beautiful baby brother is part of the squad now!” Hashtagohmygod.
Being musicians wasn’t as simple and relaxing as some people might think, though. We were both constantly everywhere, talking with reporters, signings, small shows, recording, filming, photo shoots. There was hardly a day where either of us didn't have something going on, but we always made time for each other. It went on this way for months, spending every second together that we could.
It happened while I was out of town for an interview with AP about Metro Stations upcoming album. Ronnie had been away for a few days before I left, for some smaller shows in LA. I left with Mason before he had returned, so it was almost a week that we hadn't seen each other. When I got home finally, he said he would be at his place, but when I arrived, the house was dark and his car was gone. I let myself in with my key, not bothering to turn the lights on. I knew my way around his house blindly. I trotted upstairs, sad that he wasn't home but I figured he would be back soon enough. Opening his bedroom door I thought I heard something behind me so I stopped. I felt hands on me suddenly and I was pulled back into the hallway, and before I could react there were lips on mine, his lips. His hands pinned mine to the wall, his body pressed agains mine, skin hot and clammy.
I was turned on immediately, surprises were the best, especially when Ronnie was involved. I should have known he was playing a trick on me. That night he fucked me, which surprisingly wasn't as normal as you'd think, he was much more of a bottom than a top. It was the best sex he ever gave me that night, in the hall outside his bedroom, my face pressed into the wall while he pounded the daylights out of me.
I thought it was all because he missed me, and part of it was. But as I found out six weeks later most of it was all just apologetic. Make up sex that I didn't even know was happening.
While I was away, he'd gotten home and gone out with his friends, club hopped and such. I guess someone had conned him into having a few drinks, which upset me. Ronnie’s sobriety was something about him that I found extremely sexy, man usually had a will of steel.
He was good and drunk when he ran into her, his high school sweetheart. Crissy. Apparently they were just chilling, having a few drinks. When the bars closed, she invited him back to her place with their friends to continue partying.
“You have to believe me Trace, none of this was intended.” He told me the night he found out about the pregnancy. We were at his house, he was sitting in his chair, elbows on his knees and face in his hands. “I don't even know why I was drinking, but I was. You know that's not like me. I don't remember much except talking but suddenly she was kissing me and I wasn't stopping her. I drank so much, babe.”
“Don't call me that.” I said flatly. My vision was hazy, nothing would come into focus, I couldn't concentrate.
He sighed, and I heard him stand up, walk over to me, I felt his hands on my knees and I jerked away, my eyes able to focus long enough to look into his eyes and see the hurt in them. He knew he fucked up.
“I didn't mean for any of this to happen. I missed you so much while you were gone, I was so lonely, I guess I lost control. I am so sorry for what I've done. I'll never forgive myself for this, for hurting you, for starting this thing, whatever it is with Crissy, this baby. I don't know what to do, I need you to help me figure this out.”
Tears were rolling down his cheeks but I felt nothing, not sadness, not pity, not love. I felt empty, like everything I had inside of me just vanished and I had no purpose.
I stood then, pushing his hands off me and walking past him to the door.
“Trace, no Trace don't do this. Please. Don't, don't leave!” He rushed after me, his hands grabbing my arm. I spun around, throwing his hand off me. He stopped short, his eyes wide.
“Stop. Just stop. You did this to yourself, to me. You deal with it on your own. I can't do this. I don't want to see you anymore.”
Then I turned my back on him, the only person I had ever truly fallen I love with. The only person who had ever made my heart feel whole. He'd shattered it all in one stupid night. I'd heard he was trouble from one of his exes, but I never thought it could be true.
I strode out the door and to my car, leaving him crying and calling name in the doorway. I heard a crash, a curse. He was smashing something. I opened the door to my car and got in, quickly closing the door as he ran up. I locked it right before he could grab the handle and try to open it. He yelled my name through the glass, pressing his face and hands on my window. I looked straight ahead, put my car in gear and eased slowly forward until he finally let go and sunk to his knees in the driveway, hands in his hair, screaming for me to come back. I took a last look in my rear view mirror at the mess he'd become before I took off and left him sitting there, alone.
But it didn't end there. He called me every five minutes for days and I just ignored the calls, eventually just blocking his number. He emailed me, DMed me on Instagram, facebooked me, even called my manager and Mason. He tried to contact me in every way he knew, except coming to my house. I changed my locks anyway, but he never tried. At least he knew better than that.
Eventually I had him blocked on all medias, and he had stopped emailing me. It was as if we never knew each other aside from the empty space in my heart. I stayed away from social media, not caring to see how much the fans knew, or what they thought about it if they did know. Everything had become devoid of color and meaning for me, I had no idea where I was going, what I was going to do now. Mason asked if I wanted to hang out, just me and him, write some music and have a fun time but I just couldn't. I just wanted to drink, so I did. To numb me from the emptiness inside.
Miley sighed when I was done speaking, her eyes sad. She rubbed my shoulder and kissed my cheek, her expression troubled.
“I'm sorry, Trace. I wish there was something I could say to make the pain stop. I can't stand seeing you like this. I hate it. Why didn't you tell me sooner what happened? I had no idea it was like this. I would have whooped his ass that very night for you, sent him cryin to his daddy, the little shit.”
I shook my head. “I haven't spoken about it to anyone but you. No one knows but me and him, and now you. The baby situation is his to publicize, not mine. And it hurts because no one gets why I'm still so upset about it, because they think he just cheated on me. Please don't say anything yet until he decides how he's going to handle it.”
She nodded solemnly. “I won't, I promise. But it's fucked up what he did. I never thought he would do anything like that to you. I've talked to people who've dated him, they said he was a mess. But he changed with with you, everyone said so. You kept him grounded, I didn't think he would fuck up this bad. To think, I actually liked him.”
I hadn't thought so either. But I guess that's just the way it is. Nothing could be done now.
Miley stood quickly and got the abandoned bags of food shed brought with her, handing me a large fry and a Big Mac, pulling out a handful of snack wraps for herself. She tucked herself back into my chair with me and we ate quietly. I could hear the gears turning in her brain while she tried to figure it all out.
“So what do I do now? Miley I miss him so bad. Every time he called I wanted to pick up but I couldn't bring myself to do it.” I crumpled my wrappers and jammed them inside one of the empty bags, tossing it aside. It was such a crossroads. I knew I missed him, I felt the actual pain in my chest right before I passed out how I wished he was beside me, not my bottle of whiskey. But I had been so out of it I hadn't let myself think about the next step.
She gave me a look. “It's really your choice. Do you want to figure out this situation with him? Is dealing with him having this special relationship with this woman something you can handle? Because if it is your stronger than me, I don't think I could ever take someone back after that. Then again I don't think I've ever loved anyone as much as you love him. What you had was beyond anything, brother. Different than anything I've seen, like I can't describe it.”
I nodded, tears forming at the corners of my eyes. This was the longest I'd gone without completely intoxicating myself in one way or another. I hadn't even so much as started my car, having hidden they keys from myself while I was drunk and now I couldn't find them to save my life. I realized suddenly that I needed to get out of this house.
“Let's go somewhere. Anywhere. Help me find my keys and let's just go. I can't sit here anymore.”
She smiled a bit, but then gave me a disapproving look. “Listen, I love you to death, and we will go anywhere you want, after you shower. You’re a hot mess, and you smell like the underbelly of a keg. Bath, then we will go.”
I smiled a bit. “Okay, look for my keys while I'm up there, I can't find them.”
She saluted me as I got up and headed to the bathroom.