Romans de Tommi Rift

My arms lifted above my head attempting to greet my gray ceiling. This room hasn’t been changed since I was in the seventh grade, my utterly embarrassing emo phase. Mom wouldn’t let me paint the walls or ceiling black, so I was stuck with gray, close enough, but my band posters and instruments were allowed as far as I was concerned. Back then those things weren’t even up for debate. Brendon Urie’s 18x26 inch poster still hung crooked on the corner wall right behind my drum set, guitar and amp. God’s I was a simp for him and the rest of Pan!c At The Disco when they were together. Chemical Romance, not so much. I still had my share of their posters stuffed away in my closet though. They didn’t really fit on the wall I had dedicated for my collection of posters so there wasn’t much I could really do about them. Four walls, and I only wanted one reserved for my posters everything else were serial murder clippings from random magazines my father still had

I took in a deep breath before letting out a gust of air, the flame beneath my lips almost instantly going out as the people around me cheered. While all of the attention is great I can't really enjoy this moment. I felt like my insides were being torn apart, almost like that one time I drank three two liter sodas, five bean burritos, and a huge ghost pepper pizza in one night. Man that tore up my stomach. I had to sleep in the bathroom after that, living with my parents can be a hassle in those times. No matter how much of the family business I've taken over they are always the ones I turn back to in the end. Their role as parents overpowered their role as bros. I sighed as I continued to converse with the people around me, a practiced smile on my face, my pearly white teeth glistening in the artificial light. My teeth had to be my second best feature aside from my brain, turns out the stereotypical rich and stupid blonde boy aesthetic wasn't my thin

I stood silently crying in front of the single stall restroom, the door was locked and there were no windows. For the past hour I had been trying to convince myself that Adam really didn’t mean what he’d said in a bad way, I mean maybe I was being too loud and obnoxious. He most likely meant to save me from further humiliation on my birthday. With a sad smile I gazed on at my hunched over reflection, my teary eyes barely able to make out the black streaks running down my face but not blurry enough to cover up how red my cheeks were. "Babe, don’t be so sensitive. It’s not like I hit you or anything, I just told you the truth and if that’s enough to upset you then you’re a fucking snowflake. Come out,” hesitant he muttered out a soft and somewhat hushed, “Please?" Almost like he was questioning the word rather than asking me. He had been waiting at