It wouldn't be complete without Casey's POV too! This has references from various places (like 'Never Been Kissed' and what not) I'm posting this in a hurry, it's 4:00 am here, and I'm tired. This might be a little confusing, but then again, it's CASEY! This piece has direct lines and consequences from the other one.
DISCLAIMER : disclaimed
You say you hate me.
You say you've hated me from that day. When you were still 'Ralph' and I was Casey. I actually went and told mom about what a jerk 'Ralph' was. Even when we had no apparent relationship, you were still the only one on my mind. And really, why didn't it strike us from that very first day? That first moment when we looked at each other.
I don't believe in love at first sight.
But hate at first sight? You're the reason for my faith.
I'm crazy. Neurotic. A keener. The most boring person on the face of the earth. But they're just words, Derek. Words which don't mean a thing, no matter how many times you say them. In different tones. You're not fooling anyone.
Apart from yourself.
You hate me, because I know you. And it hurt your ego that I didn't even have to try, didn't it? All those girls with their hair like so and their laughs just right, tried. Tried so hard. But in the end they saw what you wanted them to see; the hockey captain. The school player whom they would change.
And they didn't find out a single damn thing about Derek Venturi.
But I did. And that's what you hate. That I know the Derek Venturi behind the charm. That the boy I know is terrified of mice, and pretends to be cool even while he's shivering with fear in front of Ryan. The boy who loves his baby sister unconditionally, as much as he tried to hide it. The boy who gets what he wants and then stops wanting because it's too damn easy. The boy who bleeds honest-to-god red blood. Just like everyone else.
You're not as different as you like to think.
It's almost pathetic how much you try to hide behind your image. You're so afraid of letting people know. Because the real Derek Venturi is just so real. No fantasy knight-in-shining-armor.
But guess what, Derek. I've known since years.
You know, you were "the" high school guy. That one guy that all the girls got up and went to school for. The one with that mysterious confidence. That one guy that every other guy wanted to be. And you were perfect in their eyes.
But know this, Derek; I was never fooled.
You aren't a storybook player with the heart of gold. You never were. You're manipulative, using that potent charm almost as a weapon. You use people till they break. And even those broken pieces gravitate towards you.
It's pathetic actually.
And you hate me because I call you on your bullshit. Because you can't charm your way around me. Because you hate me and yet you can't help getting aroused whenever we fight. It turns you on, doesn't it? The way I say your name, ripping it apart. Whenever you make me beg, and I look up at you. It turns you on so incredibly, till you're actually moving closer and all you want is for me to look at you.
And you want your loser stepsister.
Welcome to hell. My private home.
So you try and satisfy that immoral longing. Lose yourself in a flurry of blonde hair and green eyes. The girls you're supposed to want. Come home with that lingering perfume. Those marks on your neck. Different names on your lips each day and another girl who'll cry herself to sleep over you. But in the end…in the end it never really matters, does it?
Because in the end mom uses the same bed-sheets for both our rooms in turns. And even after washing, and that new detergent, the other scent just won't go away. They always smell a little like honeysuckle. A little like lust.
A little like me.
Can you sleep at night?
You're a hypocrite, darling. You pretend to be your own master. The only one in-charge of your fffeelings. But you're not. You're just as much a slave to the world as you think I am. You mess up because everybody expects you to. You pretend so much…sometimes I think you actually believe yourself.
You always were such a convincing liar, Derek.
But there are times when lying is just too hard, aren't there? Times when you wrestle your best friend, pull pranks on the captain of the football team, stay when you can't handle tears, dance when you hate it. And you don't know why.
Why you can't stay the hell away.
Everything was colored in your universe. Blurred. Merging from one-another till you couldn't distinguish. Loud and garish. And now you're almost colorblind because it's all grey, isn't it? Soft and subtle and you can't look away because you can't see anything else. That grey fills up your vision every time you sling an arm around my shoulder. Every time you're the one covering my bruises, because no one else even saw. Every time you're too damn close and it would just take that one step…
Stay away, goddamn you, stay away.
So you try to tempt me. Whisper in my ears and let your hand slide over my skin, innocuously. Come into my room without knocking, just because you can. Pretend that the daily tangling of your leg with mine under the dinner table is just a challenge. A meaningless moment with all those other hollow moments.
Yes, we were drunk. It was college and that heady mixture of the thrill of being alive and alcohol which finally broke down those barriers. That ripped those pretences, right along with our clothes. That made us forget about blood ties and family, and it was so delicious. That forgetting. Which slurred our words so we could pretend that what had been said, never actually crossed our lips.
Yes, I trembled under you. I let down my guard, dropped all my defenses. But I know you never closed your eyes even once. Never pretended I was someone else. You looked at me, and I was all you saw when you were fucking me so hard, I couldn't open my eyes and see you lose control. You kissed to bruise, to hurt, and then…
You kissed to heal.
Yes, goddamn you, you left a mark. Several. In places I'll never admit. But know this, Derek; I left mine too. And they just won't go away. The shower doesn't wash off the sin. Believe me, I've tried. Rubbed till my skin is raw, and it hurts, but I still feel you.
And I know you still feel me.
The next morning you laughed at me. Called me the fool. Said I was deluded to think that we could be anything. That you'd used me just like those countless, nameless, faceless girls. That I wasn't any different. Just another one of Derek Venturis' women. Smirked and soaked in you own stereotype. Tried to hurt.
You really should try harder to stop your hands from trembling. They give you away every single damn time.
So go ahead. Run away one more time. Get drunk. Find that girl who looks nothing like me, and fuck her till you can't think straight. Till you've managed to clamp your mouth shut to avoid saying any names.
And hate it.
You'll come back. Talking about family and trying to make me feel. Trying to remind me about that night which never happened, and those words I never said. But I remember those words you didn't say either. We'll start a fight, because you'll need a reason. To lose, to give-in just this once.
Just this once. Like that last time.
You say you hate me, Derek. And you do. You used me and it didn't just end. You hate me because I make you feel. Because I'm the passion to your apathetic nature. Because you can't let me go. As much as you try. Again and again.
So leave all you want.
Because you always come back, Derek.
You always come back.
Maybe redemption has stories to tell
Maybe forgiveness is right where you fell
Where can you run to escape from yourself?
Where you gonna go?
Where you gonna go?
Salvation is here
- Dare You To Move