Pain, Without Love
Pain, I can’t get enough
Pain, I like it rough
‘Cause I rather feel pain than nothing at all.

-“Pain” Three Days Grace

“What’s wrong with you? More of a question, what’s wrong with him! Why do you LET him do this to you?!” She shouted at the young man in front of her. It was in a small dark apartment of the young man’s and he lay there on the coach. He had his knees pulled up to his chest and stared down at the carpet, saying nothing. The girl, younger than this man, came by his side with some bandages and started to fix him up, him again not saying a word. She examined his injuries, mostly his arms and chest. His arms were bruised badly and looked like they were turning into a different skin tone for him instead of his natural tan look. She put alcohol on the severe cuts. How was he holding back the physical pain for all of this? She sighed briefly and looked at his emotionless face. What was he thinking about so hard? Or was he numb to everything? It was always hard for her to tell what was happening in his mind. She guessed right most of the time though. Gently she put the bandages around his arms and didn’t do anything for the bruises on his chest. She wouldn’t bother him tonight with those.

She asked him to look at her and when he did nothing she took his face into her own hands to check for anymore injuries. His usual dark blue eyes were dull with nothing in them, like he was broken. She frowned at him and put a single finger on his lip, seeing a part of it was bleeding earlier. Normally she’d smile at him, kiss him, and make it better she’d tell him but not tonight. Nothing fun tonight. She took a cloth and treated it gently.

After she finished healing him up in silence she stared at him for awhile, waiting, waiting for him to say something. She groaned and sat on the floor, crossed her legs, with her arms crossed as well and flipped on the television for something to numb her mind.

“Punishment…” he finally came to say. She glanced over at him, annoyed, and then back at the TV. “Punishment for what?” She said, not intending for it to be a question, just something to say for him to either carry on or back into silence. He always did this.

He bit his treated lip hard, causing it to bleed once more and frowned, his own expression becoming agitated. “I did something wrong and he corrected me. That’s it. I shouldn’t wear bandages over my mistakes…” he said, beginning to take off the things she treated him with. All at that moment the girl quickly got up and tried to stop him from doing so. “What the-! Stop, you might get infected with all those cuts and bruises!” She told him all for him to shove her away from him, standing up yelling like he was an angst teenager. “I deserve these! It’s my punishment for doing something wrong!”

“You deserve the right to shut the hell up!” She yelled back at him getting up at her own and standing before him. Both held their arms behind each other, not wanting to hurt them or themselves. “Look, Derek, it’s not worth this…” She said, crushing her nails into her skin and breathing out to calm herself. The young man named Derek sighed as well but kept his position. “Diana…I can’t…this is MY way of doing things. I accept them. And he’s helped me out so much already! I’m in a record company now and I’ll become famous…” He said now putting his hands on his eyes, closing them. He removed them and then put them around to the back of his neck and hesitated to do something. She blinked in confusion at his odd movements and then suddenly became tense at where his hands were and what he was fiddling with. She gripped her own necklace that was hidden beneath her shirt. “That doesn’t give him the right to treat you like shit…and now, you’re giving to give us up? And for a man who doesn’t care about you, just your voice!” She shouted again her voice becoming strained, and she let go of the charm on her necklace. She held back all the tears begging to come down from her eyes and continued to look at him in fury.

“Diana…” he began again and removed the latch on a gold chain. Slowly something came out of his white shirt and something dangled on the chain as he held it out for her. The girl Diana looked away at this and fought back her angry tears. She didn’t like showing pain. And she wouldn’t ever show him something like this again. “I’m sorry. He says I need to go out on my own…I’m holding you back. You’re just too young. I’m 21. You’re…barely 17. It won’t work. This is my own life now and I-“

“Save it.” She snapped at him. “You sound like a doll being controlled with strings.” She looked at the floor next to the door and snatched her bag up in her hand and slung it over her shoulder. “Keep that necklace so sometime in the future you remember this. Hell, maybe you can write a song about it. Wouldn’t that be nice, a song written about something as stupid as this? Maybe it’ll be considered emo or “alternative rock”” she hissed at him. She opened up the door and that one moment of weakness came out. “…This isn’t you. You’ve formed into a child following its parent around. Doing whatever to make them clap for your stupid and silly tricks…One day, you will regret this!” She shouted and slammed the door behind her with tears going down her face.

He stood there in silence staring down at the necklace in his grip. It had a heart with her name written on it in pretty writing with lovely flowers embodied on it. He groaned and threw it at the ground, heading off to his one bedroom in that small apartment. He found a small phone on his sad excuse for a mattress and called the man they were speaking about.

Ring…ring…ring…

“Ugh. What, what do you want…” on the other end of the receiver a much older man spoke, sounding tired.

“Y-You were right! That…that little bitch was holding me back! It’s over, over for good!” He sat on the mattress, tears running down his face in the darkness. The man groaned again, sounding agitated about being woken up in the middle of the night. “Of course I’m right! I’m always right…women aren’t good for anything but making babies. It’s just us. Remember to come in the studio tomorrow so we can get to work and-…”

Derek stuttered something out with his tears and strained voice “I…I don’t know if I can...Micheal, can’t you-” He began to make a suggestion for a day off before the other man yelled at him. “No! You’re lucky I got you THIS FAR! Tomorrow come in or else!” He barked at him and ended the call. Derek stared at his phone for awhile before setting it down on the bed and then him laying down in it, curled up in a ball. “He’s right…Micheal’s right…he’s always right…” he said to himself, mumbling the phrase over and over again until he fell asleep.

--
13 Years later…
12:21AM New York
“Jesus!” Derek shouted, jumping up from his bed. He was covered in sweat and wore nothing beneath the silk sheets of his bed. He clung to the sheets and breathed heavily from the “nightmare” as he called that one dream. A few times a year he would have it. It kept changing every once in awhile but it ended the same way. Him alone in his room, crying. It became an anxiety for him eventually; he couldn’t be alone at night. For a 34 year old man, it was sad and pathetic. No one knew about this except for his lover and manager, Micheal McCain, who lay next to him in bed. The man stayed the farthest away from Derek and secluded himself from him. He also demanded not to be awaken at night or else. Derek put his hands over his mouth to keep from breathing too loud or something and got out of bed carefully, putting on some blue jeans that were on the floor then headed to the balcony that he also had part of his room. It was a lot different than back then when he was lucky to have a foot long closet. He looked around his surroundings and at the previous room. He lived in a fancy apartment in New York City, home to many celebrities like in California. He had a kitchen the size of his previous bedroom, a large living room, so many rooms he lost count. All of it was from his hard work and his manager’s. The man in his room made all of it possible. That girl, back then…she wouldn’t understand any of it. The guy sacrificed everything because he believed in him. How was he being used? He heard a voice in the back of his head give him that answer that wasn’t his own voice.

“He believed he could use your voice and talent for money, that’s how…”

The voice was so withered, but he knew it belonged to her. She haunted him on nights he had that dream. He paused to think of her face but it was so blurred now. It had been so many years he forgotten her face except for her blue eyes. He remembered that’s how they made fun of each other, they both had blue eyes. His were much darker and she had bright blue ones like the sky. It was the strongest thing he could remember of her appearance. He leaned on the rail and folded his arms across it looking up at the stars. New York was noisy, granted, but you had a good view of the sky. He stayed out there for awhile numbing his mind until he finally went back inside. He stepped quietly and searched for a notepad and something to write with before going down the stairs to his big living room. He turned on the light and started to write something.

“Might as well make my pain into something someone can enjoy…” He said as he began writing.

Truth be told, his songs were rarely accepted. The people owned him and he owned nothing. Why take it when they could make something better? It didn’t stop him.

It’s been awhile since I saw your face
It’s so blurred and out of place
Of all things, you pierce me with those eyes
Showing love, anger, and no lies…
I have to admit it’s lonely without you around
But I know I’m better off and so are you
So please girl, think of me true
And please let me lay here tired and worn
My head is already being torn
Let me lie here and sleep…

“Sheesh, no wonder they don’t let me write stuff…” He scribbled out the lines and continued writing something else.

He wanted to write a big hit song that would knock Gina Carnes out of place. For the last year and a half, her nobody’s face came into his view. She called him and his company out, sayings things that were true about the company and some about him. It shocked him to see somebody actually call him out at first and even yet insult him with some truth. The 30 year old woman was strong and rallied girls to join her and she spoke with her philosophy on life in concerts and music. And she was putting him out of business. He gritted his teeth and shoved the pen into the note pad, causing the ink to bleed through it.

“I…we worked too hard for this. Nothing is going to stop us.”
--
12:30AM Florida
“Danni, for the love of the Earth, quiet down! Wasting this much electricity the environmentalist will be on your ass so fast, I won’t be able to save you!” Diana called out to her daughter in the middle of the night. She rubbed her eyes and walked out of her bedroom in her night gown into the hallway. She knocked on her daughter’s door and tapped her foot, waiting for it to open. The music was being blasted through the roof and she hated bothering neighbors. Being a celebrity didn’t make her like most, she still believed in courtesy, which failed on her daughter mostly. “That’s it, Danni!” She yelled, opening the door anyway.

Her daughter was jumping up on her bed, bigger than an adult’s bed, with a guitar in her hands playing some rock song. And with the amp to 10, it felt like you were at a concert. The thirteen year old Danni didn’t notice her mom come in and kept playing anyway, while jumping up and down. Her mother sighed, went over to the amp and pulled the plug.

Danni fell on her bed and looked around to see what happened then rolled her dark blue eyes at her mom. “Geez, mom, thanks for killing my solo.”

“Geez, dear, thanks for raising the electric bill.” Diana retorted back and sat down on the bed next to her daughter, grabbing her into a hug, and then messing up her daughter’s short black hair. Danni tried to escape her mom’s “love hug” and reached out to the air, acting like she was dying. “Air! I need air!” She called out in a fake strain voice, reaching out into nothing with all her force. Her mother grinned and let her fall out of her arms and on the floor. “Oops. Well, now dear…do you have your air?” She got up and made a run from her now furious daughter. They ran around in the living room, throwing pillows at each other, messing up each other’s hair, and finally Danni passed out on the couch. Diana watched her sleep peacefully for a few minutes then picks her up, being a rock star she had to get fit so picking her up wasn’t a big deal, and went to put the young girl in her bed. Again, she watched her sleep. During so, she remembered her year of giving birth to this hyperactive, loveable, brat. She remembered the hardship of school, money, auditions, everything so this girl could live. She didn’t need these things to be happy but, whatever would keep Danni happy, she usually gave it to her. She felt she knew why inside…she felt guilty.

All the years Danni grew up, she asked that one question. “Where’s daddy?” and every year on her birthday she’d ask, “Did you contact him? Is he coming?” each time she asked, hope continued to drain from her voice. It really hurt them both inside. She told her the same thing every time to.

“You see, honey…your dad doesn’t really like me as much as before. I don’t think it’d do any good for him to come out and see us…he’s a very busy man. He’s also not a very good man.” She tried to break it to daughter gently. She tried to break it to her that their father probably would freak out over her existence, feel guilty, and marry Diana so they could be a family. And then Diana would relive her “family” life, only as the parent this time. That her father was a rock star ironically was also Diana’s enemy in the music business. She never told her any of that and didn’t plan on it for a long time. Her daughter only had so much time to be young and carefree; none of this should get to her now.

She couldn’t bring herself to tell her daughter that he was Derek Estrada, a loving boy who became a man, a man she loved for years while they dated. That he turned into Evan Reid, an asshole of a musician, and a self absorbed jerk. Diana herself had changed. She became Gina Carnes, the new female face of music, and called him out sometimes. She wanted him to feel pain from all those years. It was like her other face but she was on break from touring, she could settle down and collect herself to see the wrong she did. He didn’t matter anymore, she though, slowing wiping away a few strands of her daughters bangs from her face. This little girl was the world to her now.

Diana left her daughter in her room and went to bed in her own for the night, forgetting everything about Derek tonight. She wanted to sleep and get up early for her meeting tomorrow to spend time with her daughter. She hummed a melody while cuddling to her pillows and sang in the same tune low…

Lithium
Don’t want to lock me up inside
Lithium
Don’t want to forget how it feels without
Lithium
I want to stay in love with my sorrow
Oh, but god, I want to let it go…

Lithium-Evanescence