Author's Note – I've had this idea in my head for years now! I just hope no one assumes it's related to Twirl, by DropDeadLlama in any way…cause it's NOT, although you all should read that one ;) Please don't be offended by some of the stereotypical stuff mentioned. The song used is, "Hate Me, by Blue October." And OMG Hayley so just burned like 11 or more CD's for me and she is gunna write me a LONG letter, and send it to me, so basically…SHE'S FUCKING HxC! She lives in Cali, and I'm in Kit! SO FAR AWAY! This one-shot is so DEDICATED to her! It's not even funny. Omg, I am evil. She is sending me stuff, and I dedicate the happiest/saddest fic I have ever written to her, lmao. Anywho…please ENJOY!

Beta's Note – Where's my dedication bitch? I'll kill you. Fuck editing. If it weren't already done I'd refuse to do it. & I don't care what you say…this is way like Twirl. DropDeadLlama

Author's 2nd Note – Aha, yeah…it is kind of Twirl'ish, but that's ok. I can be un-unique for once. HOW DID YOU KNOW I WAS GUNNA DEDICATE SOMETHING TO YOU! JERK! No more guessing for you, haha. Lmao ily. :)

One-Shot Catch Me When You Fall

I pull my short leather jacket tighter, shivering as the rain continues to pour upon my slim frame. It's beating hard and I am completely soaked. My hair is drenched and I wonder why I spent so much frickin' time on it in the first place. It's the reason why I am running so late. I should have brought an umbrella, but as per usual I didn't for the fact that they're un-cool. I am on my way to the club. The same fuckin' club I goto every fuckin' Friday-night to pass the time. I probably would have stopped going if it weren't for my so-called leave-me-hanging-for-a-girl-the-first-chance-he-gets best friend, Blaise.

I turn the corner. I am halfway there. My shoes are sopping wet and I know I am going to hate dancing in them; hearing them squeak, leaving black streaks across the dance floor with their black soles. This has got to be the worst fucking day of my life. I awoke late with a hangover, had no time for my usual three S's: shit, shower and shave. I ran out of gel for my hair. I got fired. My car broke down. I have no change for the bus and I refuse all taxis. My friend's don't understand why I refuse them and to be honest I have no real reason. Maybe they are just too yellow or something. I have always hated the colours yellow and brown.

My walk seems to pick up and I am almost to the club. I turn yet another corner sharply which leads my gaze to the slightly large group of people a little way up the road. They all look about my age. It's an obvious group of gay guys who claim they're straight with their headphones around their necks, baggie t-shirts or muscle shirts and pants that hang half off there asses. Oh, and don't forget the bling-bling. Clearly, they're gangsta' or some such rubbish. It's obvious in the way they hold their dicks when they walk. I secretly think that's their way of making sure their bits and pieces are intact.

I am still shaking from the feeling of freezing water hitting me harder now as it continues to poor rapidly. The group appears to form a line as I walk by them. They stare at me like I am the fucking devil, whom has arisen to take their souls. That's right you little fucks! I am the prince of darkness…GIVE ME YOUR SOULS! You have to admit that when a group of people you don't even know hate you, you know you are the best.

In a moment's time, without even realising it, I had stepped into the club and had made my way to Blaise. Unfortunately, my cruel day didn't want to end anytime soon. Blaise nudged me, giving me his, 'I'll be back later' sign. I nodded in agreement.

I grabbed the scotch I apparently ordered and downed it quick. It burned my throat, but I loved the sensation. As I suspected my shoes made appalling sounds as I moved. I hooked my jacket up, and felt some relief in knowing that one thing was going well. My camera was safe. I took it from the large pocket bag I had been huddling inside my jacket the entire time here.

Photography had always been my passion and not my work. It's also another subject my friends do not understand about me. I take the cap of the lens and aim my camera to the live band on stage. It's some local band I have never heard of before, but I don't care. They are rocking the stage with a calm sound, making the club cronies move in slow motion. I continue to snap photos until the role of film expires. I toss in a new role and skim the room with my camera. I am spotting. That is my way of saying politely that I am nosy and a total people watcher. I can't help it. I breathe hard while the lens works it's way from person to person.

My camera stops. It's God: tan skin, black boots, black tight leather pants, a red silk shirt, black leather trench coat with higgledy-piggledy black hair and piercing emerald green eyes. I think I have just spotted the most gorgeous man on the planet. I continue to watch him through my camera. A man grabs him by the arm and yells. I watch my new object of affection yell back. I can tell this is a continued argument that has been going on for quite some time. I watch the rude mans lips move. I don't know much, but I do know alot about everything that is people. I am a people watcher. I know names, and I am pretty good with lip reading. I zoom in as much as I can to the lips. I find myself a tad bit creepy and I am betting that if anyone were to be watching me, they would call security on me for being a complete and utter sketch-bag.

The words: 'I never stopped loving you I just stopped showing it,' came from the what looked to be rough lips.

I start to choke a bit. What a fucking prick! I can't believe he just said that. My body is slowly making its way through the crowd. My camera is my eyes. I creep between moving bodies, slowly making my way to the beautiful man. I want more than anything to be able to talk with him. I drone out the music, hearing only the click of my camera shutter. I am rapidly clicking, taking as many photos of him as possible. Shit! Oh-fucking-mother-of-pearl-shit! I've lost him.

I bring my camera down, gazing over the dance floor with endless thoughts racing through my mind. What if this was my only chance? What if I never see him again? What if that bastard has done something terrible to him? A string is pulled to the lead guitar, my head spins, and I am standing awkwardly. My body is being pushed forward hard. Fuck! I am in the mosh pit. Fuck anything happening to Mr. Gorgeous! I-AM-GOING-TO-DIE!

Fucking sadistic bastards! Pushing and shoving the innocent. I refuse to take snapshots of them. I like how I make it sound like my pictures are the saviours to all that is living. I am sick of waiting for Blaise, sick of being pushed around and sick of this day, all together! I demand a refund on my day! Hell, my life! I am leaving this club as soon as possible.

I am thankful that my body is so unnourished and can slip pass the crowed. I make my way out. It is still raining but not as hard. My camera is waterproofed enough for the amount coming down. I leave it out, still wanting to take more pictures.

Noticing the darkness I now have my flash on. The night is pretty beautiful, regarding all the shit that has happened to me today. I am walking quickly, they hate me and it makes me feel good, so I take a picture of the group still aligned as I walk around the first corner.

I am now on the street, which is usually lonely, but tonight there is a gorgeous man dancing alone on it. I move slightly closer with my camera in hand and then stop, watching him move. He is conspicuous, his eyes are closed tight and I can hear him singing…

"Hate me today," he slides his feet across the wet road.

"Hate me tomorrow," he twirls.

"Hate me for all the things I didn't do for you," his voice is loud, rough, and groggy.

"Hate me in ways," he is hopping around in angered motions, his hands flailing around powerfully.

"Yeah ways hard to swallow," I thank god people aren't around, just so I can enjoy this alone. He is the most gorgeous and passionate person I have never really met. He is full of emotions and I want to know each one through and through. I hesitate before stepping closer, taking picture after picture.

"Hate me so you can finally see what's good for you," his long coat is swinging around and his black umbrella I hadn't noticed before is being tossed high into the air, flowing ever so slowly to the ground. He turns and somehow we are face to face. "Err, hi. Coffee? I want coffee. I like coffee." he asks me gently.

"Yes." I reply, trying to voice out my words more boldly. "Sorry to have interrupted you." I say, shyly?

He looks to me and smiles, "You didn't. I forgot the lyrics to the rest of the song." He say's truthfully as he chuckles a bit.

We walk in silence and I wonder what he is thinking. He leads me into the nearest coffee shop. He orders for us both and doesn't allow me to pay. He pulls a chair for me and I sit, kindly being pushed into the table. He sits across from me, and I am doing everything in my power not to just jump him right here and now. I can't help but feel complete around him. I think I just might have found my soul mate. The man who is going to complete my life. I want to be around him forever. I can smell him from across the table. He is intoxicating. He is fucking gorgeous. I think I might just cream my pants at the mere sight of him.

We are in an all hours coffee shop, so I am not surprised that we have not been kicked out yet. His name is Harry; he just broke up with his best friend and partner of five years, Ronald. I begin to get nervous at this information, but he made sure to clarify that it was wrong to begin with, and he is surprised it didn't end sooner. I am smiling, but fuck I shouldn't be! Smiling is so selfish and cruel. He smiles, fuck it! I think I love this man, and I barely even know him.

We go on for hours about our lives to one another. Sometimes there would be complete silence, but it wasn't awkward. It was comforting.

I gather from the way he talks, and asks questions that he is one of the most random men I have ever met. He also tells funny jokes, which is not important, but I can't deny the fact that I have been seriously lacking in the funny boyfriend department. My recent boyfriends have been total snorbs, or just one night stands, so I guess they wouldn't be referred to as boyfriends. I can't help but smile constantly around Harry. He is so powerful, and he doesn't even realize it. I never want this to end. I want to keep this feeling forever. I hope he will let me.

"So do you always stalk potentially new boyfriends?" He asks me suddenly.

I spit my warm coffee all over the table and choke. I am utterly shocked, "what do you mean by that?"

"The photo's…" he said in a trailed off tone, looking away.

I think I am panicking. "Sorry. I didn't mean to. I just can't stop myself sometimes." I smile widely, "you are gorgeous." I admit.

I watch as he sips his coffee, acknowledging the compliment, yet not saying anything as if he disagrees. Or maybe he agrees. Either way, I want to spend the rest of my life with a somewhat complete stranger, and it's beginning to freak me out. I don't think I can go back to not knowing him. I don't think I can live without him.

He stands and I feel myself panic. Where are you going! Don't go! What the fuck is happening? I think he realizes my fear, because he grips my shoulder and leans down. He kisses me on the cheek. My pants just got a little tighter, and I know I don't just love this man; I am in love with him.

He nips my ear and whispers, "I'm sick of sitting. Let's go out."

"Shit!" I voice out as I stub my foot into the table, getting up to follow him.

Were walking and talking. Our conversation is continued from the diner. I love the fact that once we are started on something we can't shut up. I am starting to get the feeling that he may like me, just as much as I like him.

I went into a full explanation about my photos and my intake on life. I tell him about how I am always trying to capture life in my photos. I've decided I want to capture him. My new goal, no mission, is to capture him in every way. I promise I am never going to let this man out of my site. It's only been one night and I have fallen hard. This can't be good, but I can't help but feel special and content.

"I think we should date more often." He whispers into my ear and holds me tightly in his arms. I feel my breathing pick up. Is this real? "I think…you should come back to my place, and I think we should just cuddle, lovingly." I am getting butterflies. I am spinning, literally. Harry has picked me up and is spinning me around the wet street. He is stepping through puddles and we are laughing. The rain is coming down lightly and it feels like a mist, but the best feeling is the sensation I am getting through my lips from Harry's own. He is kissing me and it is just as passionate as he is. It is the sweetest kiss I have ever known.

I think this is perfect. I think this is how life should be from now on. It should be like this for everyone. I feel him pull away, and he is staring at me with his intense emerald eyes. "I am really happy. I want to dance. I want you to capture me."

I think I am going to piss myself with glee. Fuck everything I said before! This is the best day of my life, and nothing is going to change it!

I start to snap, taking shot after shot of a very whimsical Harry. His dancing is amazing and he is so free spirited it's driving me mad with happiness. He is kicking water up from puddles, bringing more life into the photo. I think every clip I take of him is going to be so beautiful; I won't possibly have a favourite. I only wish we had a clip of the kiss we had just shared moments ago.

My camera is down a bit and I can feel my strong smile as I watch him, embracing this bliss period of our lives. I raise my camera again, and look through it. It is again my eyes. Harry is running and he jumps up off a curb, and as he does so his jacket is twisting around his body, gracefully flailing in the air as his umbrella had done earlier. I read his lips through my camera: I think…I love you.

I start snapping rapidly. I can't believe he just said what I have been thinking. I think my heart is beating so fast I'm going to have a stroke. He is still spinning, nearly touching the ground. His hand moves from his lips outward, blowing me a kiss. He does so with the biggest grin I have ever seen, facing me, and his back turned to the car that is now smashing into him.

I can hear the brakes, Harry's body being flipped over the dash to the opposite side of the car, his head hitting the ground hard. I would probably be dropping my camera to the ground, but I hit it first. I lied. Fuck everything I said before! This day has gone from terrible, to perfect, to the most fucking horribly retched day of my life. Harry is lifeless and blood is splattered from his head. I think a huge part of me has just died as well. I refuse to move. I am sitting in the puddle Harry swished as he spun me around. I refuse to move. I just lost my chance. I will never see him again, and I feel like I am the one who had hurt him. I refuse to move. It is my fault. If only I weren't taking pictures, maybe Harry would still be here with me. I wish we never left the diner. I refuse to move. The song he was screaming through the street in a blissful tune is for some reason echoing through my mind. I don't think I will ever forget it, or him. The lighting is perfect with flashing colours. I can't believe that even in death he is the most beautiful soul, and all I want to do is take clips of this moment. I hate myself. I am crying and I still refuse to move.