LPfiction

Category Linkin Park

Make Damn Sure by shinobi

i just want to break you down so badly

Strangely inspired by Chester flinging his mic stand around during their performance at this years Rock Am Ring…



1.



“I can’t believe you didn’t pass out on stage! Mike? You there?”



The sound of Rob’s voice causes your eyes to flutter open. He’s standing over you whilst holding a bag of frozen peas against your forehead. You try and sit up but your head feels heavy. You don’t know if that’s because Brad’s holding you down or if it’s because Chester swung his mic stand around during a heated performance of ‘No More Sorrow’ and whacked you across the face.



“I need to pee,” You croak out, sure that this will stop Brad from pinning you down. Nobody wants to see their best friend wet themselves, do they?



It works as Brad lets go and Rob removes the freezing cold bag. They both back away as you shakily sit up. The room seems to spin around you for a few minutes until you can finally focus on the couch opposite where Joe and Phoenix sit, the former fast asleep whilst Phi chats incessantly on his cell phone. You can’t help but note the lack of Chester as you stand up and stagger over to the bathroom, ignoring the concerned voices of your band mates as you close the door on the dressing room.



Inside the bathroom, door locked behind you is where you find Chester. You jump slightly and wonder why the fuck no one told you he was in here. Then again they had no need to. He sits beside the sink, flicking cigarette ash into the porcelain basin.



“I need to use the toilet,” You blurt out.



Chester merely shrugs.



You rub your head. Agony doesn’t even begin to describe the pain that’s sparking through your entire body right now.



“I’ve seen it all before,” Chester breezes out, taking a drag from his cigarette.



You shake your head in disbelief and stride over to the toilet. You swear his eyes are burning holes into your back and when you’re finished you slowly turn around to meet his stare. He doesn’t move as you step over to the sink and wash your hands. In fact it’s only when you wipe them down the front of your bloodstained shirt and turn to leave that he moves; his arm snaking out and bony fingers digging into your shoulder.



“Let go,” Your voice is just a whisper. How pathetic.



“How’s your head?”



You turn around, “How the fuck do you think it is?” You hiss, your anger covering up the hurt inside, the hurt you feel when you see the smile that’s plastered across his face.



“God,” He grins, stubbing his cigarette out and jumping down from the counter, “I fucking enjoyed that!”



You shake your head and back away, “Leave me alone Chester.”



“Make me,” He glares at you, his head inches from yours before he bursts into menacing laughter, his whole body shaking.



“That wasn’t funny,” You seethe, “You could have killed me.”



“I know!” Chester’s eyes are wide, expression that of a child on Christmas morning, “I nearly did! God, I loved the sound you made when I hit you. It felt really good. I was holding onto my mic stand so tightly, I swear I heard something cracking when I swung it around and thrashed it against your head. I tell you now, that was the best adrenaline rush I’ve ever felt. I wanted to do it again and again!” Chester pauses, his expression softening, “But then I kind of figured that would have been inappropriate, what with all those kids in the crowd.”



“Fuck you,” You whisper.



“Been there. Done that. Got the STI.”



You shake your head in despair, “What happened to you Chester? What fucked you up so badly, huh?”



“You did,” Chester presses forward, his hands grabbing onto your wrists.



“No Chester,” You sigh, “I finished with you. That’s all I did.”



“Biggest mistake of your life.”



“Oh shut up. I’m fed up of hearing this,” You sigh, “Change the record because no matter how much you hurt me, no matter what twisted little games you play I am not getting back together with you.”



Chester’s hands tighten around your wrists. You wince but not loud enough for him to hear. You won’t give him the satisfaction of knowing he’s getting to you.



“I’ll get you back,” Chester whispers, “Dead or alive, I’ll get you back.”



He lets go and presses a kiss against your cheek. You feel yourself shaking as he leaves the room and it’s only then that you feel everything bubbling out. Tears stream down your cheeks and you storm over to the sink, fling the box of matches Chester has left across the room. You don’t know what quite happens next because one minute you’re splashing water over your face and the next you’re smashing up the mirror, swearing at your broken reflection and struggling against the shocked figures of Brad and Rob as they try and calm you down.



Sadly, this is nothing.



No, this is only the beginning.




TBC…

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