Angst. Biiitch

Third person pov//// (oop out of my territory now bitches. Buckle up buttercup it's showtime)

Roman often didn't think about his feelings.
He often didn't acknowledge they were there, and when they were there...

He often used some other form of getting rid of them. Ignoring, flirting, jacking off, working himself to death, but recently he's been trying a new one out. Drinking.

Roman wasn't a light weight. He was someone who could get a buzz and not get drunk until like the 12th bottle of whatever. But that buzz was always so nice. He didn't wanna leave it alone either.

So tonight when he got sad and overwhelmed for the last time this week he walked to his dresser and pulled out his bottle of vodka that he had stashed away. Choosing a higher percentage in alcohol makes the buzz hit you harder so you don't have to drink as much so it can have a small amount hidden away for a while.

He was sad and it wasn't about anything in particular or anything he thought mattered. He just wasn't happy.

He grabbed the bottle turning on his tv and sitting at his plush bench at the end of his bed. The more he thought. The more he drank. The more he drank the more anger boiled up inside of him. He was angry, angry at himself for feeling this way for no reason. He was angry that this was the way he chose to deal with his issues. This was his fault.

He drank more. Taking small gulps of the spicy warm liquid. It burned. He started to liked when it burned. Started to like the feeling of it going  down into his system. Once he thinks he drank enough to get a thick buzz he put the bottle down screwing the cap on.

Here's where I let him take over the story.

Roman's pov////

It wasn't to much. I didn't drink too much which was good. But it wasn't working as fast as I wish it was.

I get off the bench sinking down to the floor, not feeling comfortable anymore. The TV was pointless. Nothing good was on anyway. I clicked it off laying flat on the ground with all my lights off just staring up at the ceiling.

I didn't know what I was upset about. I didn't know why I decided it wasn't a feeling worth having. That's what I decided when I dug out the bottle anyway right.

Tears started flowing out of my eye sockets.

What I was doing was wrong and I knew it but it was much easier than dealing with it easier than thinking about why it was there and why I'm upset. Am I just not good enough.

Well I'm not smart enough to figure out my own feelings but I already knew I was dumb. I get called it all the time. It's obvious that I'm not the smart one of the group. That's Logan's job. He's useful. I haven't even gotten to do one part of my job. There's hardly one dream I've gotten Thomas to meet. Hell I can't even get him a man. Makes sence. I'm only half a side anyway. I'm less of a side then everyone else here. I don't belong he-

My thoughts subsided when I heard my door open.

"Hey Roman, Patton made some cook- hey are you okay?" Virgil was at the door. With the door cracked just a sliver of light from the hall illuminated me at the end of my bed curled up with a bottle of alcohol and tears streaming down my face. I don't know if it was the noises of my heaving breath or the sight of me that first gave it away that I was not currently in a great mood.

"Can I come in?" He asks wanting to help but scared to intrude. I nod. He walks in examining the area. He closes the door walking over to my small desk lamp and turning it on. "Dealing with emotions in the dark is not very fun." He says trying to lighten the room and the mood.

I sniffle. Handing him the bottle. "Take it from me." I say. He grasps it from my hand I let go of it. He sits down next to me on the ground.

"I'm all ears. Tell me what's going on bud." I don't look up. I'm not one for opening up. " Or if you want you can take this one time offer of getting to hug me and cry into my shoulder and we can talk About it later." He looks at me smiling trying to get me to smile back.

He wasn't a natural at this. He didn't know what he was doing but it was cute how he was trying. I kissed him on his cheek leaning my head on his shoulder and leaning my body weight against him. At some point in the silence I fell asleep.

Virgil's point of view////

"So he was drunk and he kissed me on the cheek stop making a big deal out of it." I mumble angerly to myself putting all the things in order in his room.

He had fallen asleep on my shoulder and I had shimeed him into bed putting the covers on him, turning the lamp off, along with closing his drawer back up, and taking the alcohol bottle.

He was asleep when I left to go down to the commons for those cookies Patton said he had made for us. I went to the kitchen opening the alcohol cabniet and putting the bottle in the back. Patton was in the kitchen taking the cookies off of the pan and transferring them to the cooling trays.

He turned around to me "Are you drinking at 4pm?" He was confused because I can't drink much without getting a awful hangover.

"I wish I could but no this is roman's." I say closing the cabniet.
Patton tilted his head to one side.

"But Roman isn't allowed to drink afte- oh no was he okay?" Patton asked worried. I leaned up against the counter.

"Not really. At least not when I walked in. He was curled up in a pitch black room on his floor with it. He was crying. He handed it to me and said to take it from him. So I did and I sat down with him trying my best to comfort him. He fell asleep and now he's in bed. What happened that made him not be allowed to drink?" I ask since I wasn't here or remember hearing about it.

"When Thomas was in 12th grade Roman was really messed up over the fact that we didn't get into that big college that we put all that effort into getting into. And a couple weeks later I found him drunk and cutting. From then on we only let him drink when he was out with all of us." Patton states handing me a cookie. "Thank you for looking out for him kiddo that's really sweet of you." I scratch the back of my head at the complement

"No prob."

Might do a part two