Wow, i've had months of writers block and suddenly this just pops up and i couldnt get it written down fast enough. And then my sterio kept on skipping on the song i was using while i was writing this and it completely pissed me off.

Disclaimer: Me no own Beyblade, no matter how hard i dream i do i dont sadly...Nor do i own the song nope im just using it

Song: Evanescence - Call me when your sober

Ming Ming lay curled into her pillow on her bed as her cheery orbs stared lifelessly at the cream coloured wall. She hadn't moved in the past four hours. Not feling any reason to.

A harsh knock sounded at her door for the umpteenth time that day, her leg twitched unvoluntry and it was is time had unfrozen. Ming Ming blinked and for the first time in hours actually saw the wall infront of her, her body ached from being locked up tightly for hours. Stretching she arched her body, grimacing as a few of her bones snapped and cracked. The person at the door had left her alone again.

She glanced at the clock beside her, surprised at how much time had passed. Her eyes soon fell onto the picture frame beside the clock and her gaze hardened, her jaw locked as she reached a hand out and slamed the frame down so she could no longer see the picture full of lies and false happyness.

Rolling onto her other side she pulled her large white teddy to her chest and willed the tears not to fall, she gazed blankly infront of her, not seeing not feeling just being.

- - - - - - -

With a start Ming Ming woke, her sleep fuddled mind tried to answer why she had awoken, rolling onto her other side she squinted at the clock trying to make sense of the blurred red numbers. Blinking a few times she waited for her vision to clear, 6:00 am. She felt anger rising in her as she slid her eyes towards the downturned picture frame.

Narrowing her eyes she sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed, crossing the room she made mental notes of what she needed to get rid of, she wasn't going to be one of those girls that let him control her life after they had broken up. No, she wasn't going to mope or cry for him. He wasn't worth it, she decided.

She sat at her desk and switched on her computer, as she sat waiting for it to load up words came pouring into her mind one after the other all in a mad rush to be acknowledged. Ming Ming hastily rumaged around her messy computer desk for a pen and fresh paper, once found she let the words flow freely from her mind to the pen and to the paper.

Her hand ached with the pressure she applied in a rush to get all the words out of her mind and written down before they were forgotten.

- - - - - - -

Ming Ming sat back with a satisfied sigh crossing her lips, her eyes scanned the papers in front of her, some a jumble of words hardly able to make out others filled with a multitude of chords for the different instruments.

A ping sounded from her computer speakers, she glanced at the screen to see the new msn message from her manager.

Stacey M. - Love the new chords babe, what are they too?
MiMi - You'll see stace. Its a surprise just get the guys to learn it for Fridays gig
Stacey M. - Sure thing.

Ming Ming signed off and focused her attention back on the newly written lyrics, she softly sang to herself memorising them as she removed all traces of him from her room.

- - - - - - -

Ming Ming stared out at the crowd of screaming fans as she stood behind the microphone, she knew he was there she could feel his prescence, strong and masculine. It usually comforted her but now it was like a poison seeping through her. She didn't even know why he was there, probably dragged by Tyson or someone.

She signaled to her band that she was ready as the stage lights came on and her fans screamed – if possible- even louder then before.

The piano started playing softly as she began to sing,

'Don't cry to me
if you loved me
you would be here with me
you want me
come find me
make up your mind'

The drums and guitars joined in as the spot lights whirrled around blasting colours everywhere, a lone yellow light shone on her giving her an ethereal glow.

'should I let you fall
lose it all
so maybe you can remember yourself
can't keep believing, we're only
deceiving ourselves and i'm sick of the lie
and your too late

Don't cry to me
if you loved me
you would be here with me
you want me
come find me
make up your mind'

She felt his crimson gaze booring into her from where ever he was in the crowd and felt a surge of satisfaction creep up on her. She knew that he knew this was about him.

'couldn't take the blame
sick with shame
must be exhausting to lose your own game
selfishly hated, no wonder yo're jaded -
you can't play the victim this time
and you're too late'

She hoped he hated it, she wanted him too. After all what ex would want to have a song written about them. She almost let a smile creep onto her face but suppressed it as the song continued.

'Don't cry to me
if you loved me
you would be here with me
you want me
come find me
make up your mind

you never call me when your sober
you only want it cause it's over

how could I have burned paradise?
How could I – you were never mine!

So don't cry to me
if you loved me
you would be here with me
don't lie to me
just get your things
i've made up your mind.'

A self satisfied smile came to her as the music and lights died away.

- - - - - - -

As she sat in her dressing room once the concert had finished she slowly wiped away her make up as thoughts, memories entered her mind. With every swipe of the make up removal pads she erased that memory.

Of him calling her at two in the morning completely piss drunk and rambling on and on about nothing and how useless she is as a girlfriend and how pathetically she needs him, The way his blood shot eyes would glare with hatred at her when she had come to take care of him the next day.

The anger and hate filled words he would throw at her until she was a broken wreck on the floor, the way he would strorm out afterwards and pretend nothing had happened the next day.

The bruises he would marr her body with as he roughly had sex with her, the way he would scoff at the angry purple and blue bruises marring her porcelain skin as he lit a ciggarette.

All these and many others she erased just as easily as she wiped her make up away.

Alright so tell me what you thought, some parts of it were a lil rushed but its not my fault that muse bombarded me with so many idea and everything that i forgot most of them (shrugs) anyway review pleasey weasy lemon squezy