livetowrite123456789

Travis' Point of View
Everyone always labeled as the rebel who did drugs and smoked pot on my spare time.
I never denied the rumors, but yet again, what everyone says isn't completely true.
I guess everyone would find it shocking once they figure out that I'm not a drug addict, but I know for sure that they will be in for a surprise if they find out that my father is the founder and owner of Kapone Hotels, one of the largest chains of inns in the east coast.
"Travis, you're going to get dirt on the carpets!" my mother hissed at me, as I stepped on her precious Italian rugs with my dirty boots.
I rolled my eyes, as I glanced at her from the corner of my eyes. Ripping off my boots from my feet, I tossed them aside, leaving a nice streak of mud on the white carpet.
My mother gasped, as I raised an eyebrow.
"The shoes are off," I muttered sarcastically, "happy?"
My mother held in her breath, as she crossed her arms.
I noticed how she was wearing one of her stupid designer dresses, and had a fancy pearl necklace on.
I wonder where she was going now.
"And have you been smoking?" she leaned closer to me, sniffing the shoulder of my plain, black hoodie.
"No." I lied.
My mother glared up at me with a frown. "You sure smell like it!"
"There, you have your answer." I spat. "Can I leave now?"
My mother gave me one hard look, before she sighed in defeat.
"Your father and I are leaving in a few minutes to a meeting in Toronto. We won't be back for a few days, so-"
Whatever my mother said after that was a blur.
All I could think was how pathetic it was that the two of them are leaving on yet another business trip for the stupid chain of hotels my father owned.
You would think that if you lived in a house flooded with money, you'd be happy, but that was not the case.
Because of the fact that I grew up and was raised by a maid and not my parents, I barely knew them.
I almost never called my parents mom or dad, I called them by their first names, Paul and Colette.
"I don't need to say bye to anyone, Colette." I snapped at my mother. "Tell Paul I said later."
My mother stared at me with anger filled in her eyes, but I didn't care.
She didn't raise me, so she couldn't tell me what to do.
There was a reason why I came out messed up the way I was now.
Never having anyone care about you can really screw you up in the long run.

that was a little insight on Travis' life.
what are your thoughts about it? leave a comment! :)
 

Travis was having his eleventh cigarette for today.
I watched as he pulled the pack of cigarettes out of his pockets before lighting the tip up.
I cringed as he took a sharp intake of the smoke, letting out a gust of gray air.
"Don't you think you've had more than enough for today?" I asked, crossing my arms, as sat at the park bench later that afternoon.
Travis gave me a mere shrug, before slumping down in his seat.
"You can never have enough of these babies." he muttered, before exhaling.
The smell of smoke reached my nose, as I scrunched it up with disgust.
"I hope you know that stuff can kill you one day, you know?" I pointed out.
I considered Travis a friend by now, and I didn't want to see one of my friends die at a young age because of something like lung cancer from smoking a pack of cigarettes a day.
"Who cares?" Travis shrugged. "We all die eventually."
I glared at Travis, before crossing my arms.
God, he was so stubborn.
"You're a really negative person." I blandly said. "I guess it suits you, though."
Travis smirked, throwing his head back in laughter. "Riley, shouldn't you know by now that everything suits me?"
I rolled my eyes, as I pushed him in the shoulder.
He barely budged from his position, as he smirked down at me.
"You have such an ego in that empty head of yours." I teased, sticking my tongue out at him.
Travis chuckled, as he tossed his finished cigarette onto the concrete.
I watched with wide eyes as he reached over in his pocket to take out yet another damned cigarette.
Quickly, I clamped my hand over his, snatching the pack away from his fingertips.
"Hey!" he snapped, trying to take back what was his.
I stuffed the pack of cigarettes in my pocket, as I guarded them protectively.
"I'm trying to help you here, Travis." I said sternly. "I think you've had your fair share of cigarettes today."
Travis' features suddenly weren't so playful anymore.
He had a look of irritation written across his face, as he reached over my body to try to get into the pocket of my hoodie.
My eyes widened, as I pushed him off. "What are you doing?!" I snapped.
Travis gave me a bland look. "I'm trying to take back my stuff."
I groaned, shooting him a look. "No, Travis! You aren't getting these back!"
Travis raised an eyebrow, as a smirk appeared across his lips. "Is that a challenge?"
My eyes suddenly went broad, as Travis laced his arms around me to try to get the cigarettes.
I cursed under my breath when he found out that I was tickilish.
"Travis!" I hissed, while holding my a laugh from where he was tickling my sides. "Stop it, you idiot!"
"Give it!" Travis warned.
"No!"
The pain of being tickled was unbearable.
I didn't even realize how close the two of us had gotten.
He was literally hovering over me, chest pressed against mine.
My mouth went dry, as I felt Travis' hand sneak inside my pocket.
Quickly, I got the pack of cigarettes before he did, and stuffed them down my top, right where my chest was.
Travis' eyes went wide, realizing that he lost.
"Now, get off of me." I gave him a push.

 

"Nobody knows who I am."

-Anonymous





 

If I ever go to hell I already know what's going to happen.

They will give me a laptop.

But there won't be any internet.

 

Chapter 1.
Caitlyn's Point Of View

I couldn't figure out why Liam cared about me at all.  We hadn't even talked until English class today.  Before leaving school he made me give him my number.  He was so convinved that he was going to save me, but I don't think he can.

At about 5 pm I got a text from him.  'What's your address? I'm coming over.  I responded 'Um.. okay.. 143 Forrest Drive.'  'Great. I live close by, be there in a few.' he replied.  Wow. He doesn't even ask, just tells me he's coming over? Whatever. 

Sure enough, about 10 minutes later I heard a knock on the door. My aunt wasn't home, she never was. Who knows where she is.  When I opened the door he greeted me with a smile and walked in.  "Okay. Why are you here?" I asked. "To hang out." He said, as though it was obvious.

For a while we just hung out in my room, I had the radio on.  I'm not sure why but he made me feel like I could be myself around him.  'Thunder' by Boys like Girls came on the radio. "I love this song!" I told him and he smiled.  By the middle of the song I was singing loudly into a hairbrush and we were both dancing around like idiots. When it ended we both collapsed on the floor, dying of laughter.  "Music." he said suddenly. "what?" I asked.

"Don't kill yourself, reason number one. Music. You always have music."

Brb dying 200 followers and 100+ favorites. Thank you guys so much! If you haven't read the prologue you should go read it.  ~    SO as you can see I have decided to keep writing.  Please give me feedback, If you like it and are going to read the whole story, Favorite and Follow(:  I'll follow back.  Comment leaving feedback, and if you guys are interested in the story or not.  I really don't like notifying people, so if you could please just follow me and look at the quotes by people you follow. If you really for some odd reason want a notification, comment ASKING for one. Thanks!