Needing release - OPEN -

[ASHTON COLE JOHNSON-WALKER]

<sup>Ashton entered the music room slowly, making sure no one was in there. Rylee was at school and Peter was at Practice, at least... thats where hes pretty sure he is. He knew the struggles peter was having with his music and Ashton really wished there was a way he could help him. They had discussed an operation if it were to help and part of him was okay with it. The part that didnt want peter to be in any pain anymore. He hated seeing peter get frustrated and feel like he wasnt worth a damn because he couldnt remember things he should be. Things that other people counted on. But the other part, the part that worried that something bad could happen. That it could end up worse or maybe he lost other memories in the operation. what if he didnt remember who he was or how to play, or worse yet. What if he died? Ashton didnt want any of that.

Ashton licked his lips as he looked at the guitars they had there. They werent too bad really, theyd replaced some of the really shitty ones. Thank god for that. Ashton sighed and picked one up. He hadnt played in so long. He swallowed and made his way over towards the platform and sat down his back against the piano that was there. he strummed it a few times tuning it till it sounded how he wanted it to.

Ashton closed his eyes his mind wandering to carson. So many things had happened this year. Ashton had already thought he was crazy but now.. now he was certain. Ashton believed in spirits and ghosts or whatever you wanted to call them, but he never knew if it was really all in the persons head or if they really were real. The fact that he had talked to carson well was that just something he wanted to happen or was that really what happened.

Ashton shook his head as he started to play the guitar. Carson had told him not to tell peter, so maybe it was all in his head. Something hed fashioned in his head because he couldnt face the fact that carson was dead. God just that thought had him tightening his grip on the guitar and the sound was strangled. He hated that phrase. He hated those words. he stood up tossing the guitar, ignoring the few hurt notes that sounded when it hit the floor. He turned then, looking at the piano.

Ashton sat down on the bench, his fingers pushing up the cover that was over the keys and he looked down at them. You're fucking nuts.. he muttered. Hes not coming back... just face it. Stop being a goddamn pussy and fucking face whats happened. he gritted his teeth and placed his fingers on the keys as he started to play. He was by no means a pianist. He sounded nothing like peter. He could play and he could get by if needed, but Piano wasnt his instrument of choice, but it sure as hell was good with getting things out. It was ridiculous how much feeling could come from a piano, ashton hated it. Right now he hated it all. His fingers played shorter notes, faster notes, sharper and louder notes.

His mind strayed to the house. He should be putting that effort into the house, he should be. Carson had said he was back for the house, but really that was his imagination telling him that he shouldnt be slacking. That he was letting carson down by not doing the house. One of the few damn things carson asked him to do. In fact.. he was pretty sure he was fucking up everything carson asked him to do. Especially Rylee. Hed been an idiot for thinking he could take care of her. And now he was alone, no one to help. Hell he knew he wouldnt let anyone help even if they offered, but still.

Ashton gritted his teeth again as he started to really pound at the keys the sound was all over the place. Ashton just needed something, he felt like he was wound up so tight inside. Part of him felt like he was about to explode and when he first talked to carson he was about ready to find the shit head that would dare do that to him, but... they proved it, proved they were carson and part of him started to relax, part of him started to unwind. The possibility. But now.. now that he realizes it was all in his crazy fucked up head. That there was no possible way shit like that didnt happen. The fact he refused to let carson gone from himself was the only reason for any of that had him wound up even tighter then before.

Ashtons fingers changed to fists and he just started hitting them down on the keys the noise was awful and his hands hurt, but he didnt care. He sucked in a breath. His head hurt, his mouth hurt his teeth hurt and his eyes hurt. Hed never wanted to cry as much as he did now. He just wanted to wail. He wanted to pound the hell out of something and just fucking cry let something out, but he didnt. He couldnt. He felt like he was stuck, like he wasnt allowed to that it just was going to stay in there and eat him from the inside out because he deserved that.

He knew this would happen. He knew if he let himself have any kind of happiness it would just turn around and bite him in the ass. It happened with andy, and it happened with carson and its still happening with peter. Rylee was next on the list. Peter had said he felt as though Rylee thought he should have been the one to die. Sometimes he felt like maybe she felt that way about him. She was stuck with him now and not carson. Carson should be here, carson had something to live for, andy had something to live for, Peter has something to live for, but Ashton... the only ones he had to live for were the ones that were falling through his fingers and he couldnt stop them. Not a damn thing he could do.</sup>

[XAVIER DONOVAN CRANE]

YOU GO FOR SECONDS AND DAYS I LIVE
for moments to say that i may never get a second chance

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• • • • • • • • • • • ASHTON JOHNSON-WALKER ![/font][/color][/font][/size][/center]

To say that Xavier was simply tired was a major understatement. Usually quite alert during his class, he had spent most of his morning trying his hardest not to nod off. He had been up all night with Kahlua and his night terrors, taking nearly an hour to calm him down after waking him from each night terror. It had been a bad night for bad dreams, it seemed, but despite being exhausted he went to school anyways. Xavier hated missing classes, especially over something small like sleep, so he went anyways. It wasn’t hard to see that he was really tired though, with bags under his eyes and his lazy eye more prominent than it usually was. He had also has more of his split second seizures all morning, spacing out and staring in front of him much to his teacher’s distaste. Well, they knew he had epilepsy but it was still irritating to some, which he understood. Other than his eyes he didn’t look much different than he usually did, still as sort of put together as he usually was. He had on one if his prized Michael Jackson tee shirts on with a pair of looser fitting jeans held by a purple belt with a Pacman buckle. His shoes were blue sneakers to match his blue shutter shades, because Xavier is just that cool. He had a large assortment of bracelets on both wrists and two necklaces, his hair left down and a little messy.

It wasn’t until well into the school day when Xavier was struck with an idea that kept him awake and alert until his spare period. He had been spending his class time scribbling in his notebook, the page covered with more scratched out lines than actual coherent words. Xavier had never really had good hand writing, since most of the time he ended up having a tiny seizure as he was writing and creating abstract art out of his sentences. Somehow the boy managed to read the chicken scratch all over the paper, rewriting the song he had written on a much cleaner sheet. The plan was simple: if Kahlua liked getting sung to sleep, which definitely helped with the nightmares his boyfriend seemed to always have, he would write a song to help out. Considering that Xavier rarely wrote songs on his own and usually did them on a whim with a group of friends, he was doing his best to make sure that this one was perfect. So of course he opted for stopping by the music rooms while he had time to, hoping the teacher would be there to give him a hand.

As Xavier neared the music room rather angry sounding piano coming from the room he had been heading to. He was quite tempted to turn around and save his song for later; let whoever was playing get whatever they needed out of their system. Especially when the angry hammering of keys turned into a noise that resembled a cat walking on the keyboard. The noise brought a shiver down his spine with how angry and violent it sounded, and while he was very tempted to just turn around and leave this person to vent he couldn’t do that. It wasn’t in Xavier’s nature to turn away from someone who was so obviously in pain. Xavier was too paternal for his own good, having this need to help every single person he saw. It was as much as curse as it was a gift, especially when the person really didn’t want help no matter how badly he wanted to give it. He couldn’t help but frown as he heard the angry pounding on the piano keys and for two reasons: he felt kind of bad for listening in, and he couldn’t accept that someone could be that angry about something. Everyone deserved to be happy in his eyes, which was why he did his best to try and help everyone he talked to. No wonder he was dating Kahlua, that boy needed all of the help Xavier could give him.

He finally walked to the doorway of the music room, a little hesitant to say anything to the guy. He had seen him around school before, but he hadn’t really talked to him. “Are you okay,”

[/color] he asked carefully, though it was a question he personally hated. He didn’t really know what else to say to the guy considering that they had never talked to one another before. “I couldn’t help but hear your playing,”[/color] he started to explain. “And it sounded like you might need someone to talk to, which I’m pretty good for,”[/color] he offered with a small smile, taking a few steps into the music room. “Or I can leave if you’d rather be on your own, I just thought I would offer,”[/color] he added with a small shrug, hands in his pockets.[/blockquote]words: 819
outfit: here
lyrics: the ready set, more than alive
notes: ashton is my middle name![/blockquote][/size]

[ASHTON COLE JOHNSON-WALKER]

<sup>Ashton stopped hitting the keys when a voice broke through his banging. He schooled his features, his lips firming into a straight line as he turned towards the intruder. Ashton couldnt say that he recognized the kid. A long time ago he would have been able to tell you who everyone was, he was a watcher, someone that paid attention. He liked to know who people were and what the deal was with them because you never know when you were going to need the information. Of course his attention to detail has slipped quite a bit since and now he had no idea who this kid was and why he felt the need to come in and disrupt him.

Ashtons eyes were as cold as the vibe he gave off as he stared hard at the kid. One brow quirked and he let out a heh sound. Actually... you could have helped to hear by turning around and walking the other way. he replied his voice a deep monotone. He ignored everything the kid said biting back words he would like to snap at him. what do you want? he asked. You dont know me, why did you stop?

Ashton turned on the bench so he was facing the kid. Do you usually put yourself upon people? You may have given me the choice for you to go away, but I doubt you actually will. Anyone that would even take the chance to find out if something was wrong with someone wouldnt just take it and go. he rolled his eyes and stood up. So.. did you come here because you needed the room or because you were being nosy? he asked. He moved over towards the desks and picked up the guitar hed thrown. A couple of the strings had broke and he made his way over towars the shelves on the one side that held extra strings and what not.

Whats you're name? he asked opening up one of the drawers and pulling out a packet of extra strings. He looked at it before putting it back and picking up another till he found the ones he was looking for. He glanced over at the kid again to see if he was still there or if he would actually offer the information. Ashton didnt want to talk about what was bothering him, didnt want anyone to know what was going on with him. He never did it was probably part of his problem and sometimes it had caused issues with him and peter and him and carson, but Ashton was stubborn as hell and he usually managed to work his way around talking about it unless he absolutely needed to. Even then he sometimes didnt.

well? he said again as he moved back over to one of the desks and set the guitar on top of it getting ready to change the broken strings. Inside he was cursing himself for having been such an asshole with the guitar.

NOTES: XD that was kind of crappy</sup>

[XAVIER DONOVAN CRANE]

YOU GO FOR SECONDS AND DAYS I LIVE
for moments to say that i may never get a second chance

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• • • • • • • • • • • ASHTON JOHNSON-WALKER ![/font][/color][/font][/size][/center]

Xavier had been very sheltered as a kid, led to believe that the world was an amazing and beautiful place full of good and happy people. It wasn’t until he had met Kahlua when he had started to see it differently, having to realize that not everyone had things as easily as he did. The most traumatic things that had ever happened to him was his grandpa dying and finding out that Mel wasn’t his mother, which in the long run was more of a relief than anything else. There was one point in Xavier’s life when he thought that his mother not wanting himw as the worst thing that could happen to someone, and then Kahlua’s family showed him differently. People were fully capable of killing their own siblings, which shocked him still do this day. Sure, Izzy was a bit of a bitch but he would never purposely hurt her. Because of how sheltered his parents had kept Xavier he still had a hard time believing that people were capable of being rude, not even taking into consideration that the guy that he was trying to help might not want it. Seeing the cold look in the boy’s eyes, Xavier almost regretting not turning around and coming back later. It was too late now though, so he continued to lean against the door frame.

“If they need help, yeah,”

[/color] he replied to the comment about putting himself on people. “I did give the choice to leave and if you want me to go that badly I will. I’m not going to force myself on anyone, that would be rude of me,”[/color] he pointed out, feeling very awkward right now. He dug his hands into his pockets and fiddled with the contents of each of them, hoping that this would get less awkward and tense so he didn’t have a seizure or something. Weird things set off his epilepsy, like standing on the bus for too long; luckily he has a pass that allowed him to have the disabled seating. Xavier’s eyes followed the boy as he stood and moved to a guitar that appeared broken, though his lazy eye was having focus issues despite the contacts he had in. “I was going to ask Mr. Glenn for help with something, I didn’t know that someone would be here,”[/color] he admitted with full honesty in his voice. He really didn’t mean to come across as nosy or pushy, he had just wanted to help someone who was so clearly going through something difficult.

If this guy didn’t want his help then he wouldn’t give it. At this point into the tense conversation Xavier was just wishing he could fix his mistake and change the negative opinion that this guy must have. This had definitely gone off on the wrong foot, and Xavier was hoping that it could be fixed. He was about to give his name when he felt that familiar drowning feeling, everything suddenly going black and his body tensing up. It was a damn good thing he was leaning against the doorway. Xavier’s eyes rolled back and his lids fluttered rapidly in a series of half-blinks. His right hand removed itself from his pocket and started picking at his shirt, which lasted a second or two before his hand dropped to his side and his eyes went back to normal. Well, sort of, one of his contacts shifted, which caused him to shut his eyes almost immediately. “Sorry, I missed what you said,”[/color] he admitted, remembering that he was talking to someone but unable to recall what he had been talking about. His eyes were still closed and he used his eyelid and finger to put his contact back in place before opening his eyes again and sliding down onto the floor in the doorway.[/blockquote]words: 639
outfit: here
lyrics: the ready set, more than alive
notes: - - - [/blockquote][/size]