Oh you won't believe what I did....
I started writng a Taylor Hanson/ Scott Moffatt fic. Called sick boy. Based off of the song by social distortion.
I really like this. Tell me what you think.
Sick Boy.
Sick Boy
*Taylor*
God I must be out of my mind. Why did I call him of all people? We hadn’t seen each other since we were sixteen and we hadn’t we really left on good terms. I think last thing I said to him was “Go fuck yourself.” And yet, last Friday I had called him. I had put my pride aside and asked him for a big outrageous favor. Maybe that is why I asked him, because I knew after all these years later, I still was the only person he would do anything for. I knew he wouldn’t turn me down as so many had done before. I was truly sick.
If you ask my father he would agree. That I am a sick, sad, gay piece of shit that walks this earth. I that deserve to burn hell and I will. It’s quite funny really how much my father has changed his tune over the years. I mean for instance, at the age sixteen he had caught Scott and me kissing in the hallway of our hotel rooms, he just smiled and told me at breakfast the next day that it was normal, that it was just a phase, some boys go through. Little did he know just moments before he had caught us in the hallway we were doing something more then just kissing in my room.
Oh you should seen the way my father smiled after Scott and I broke up and I started to go out with girls. My father thought it was because I liked girls when it really was just a sad, stupid, excuse to get back at Scott. Scott could care less, whatever made me happy was his motto. The self-less little bastard. But anyway the revenge blew up in my face, big time.
I would like to say that this story starts with Scott but it actually starts with a girl named Laura. Oh poor Laura, another person I don’t deserve. She is like the girl version of Scott. Blonde, blue eyes, medium build and all kinds of wonderful. When Laura and I met we started dating right away which made my dad even happier, hell even I was happy for reasons I did not realize until we started having sex.
Sadly, when I was having sex with Laura, I’d find myself picturing Scott and at first it didn’t bother me. I mean Laura was the only person I had sex with since Scott. So of course sex with Laura would remind me of him. Eventually though I knew I was kidding myself, especially when I would almost call out Scott’s name during sex. Then Laura became pregnant and I knew I could not fool myself any longer. She was not Scott and I had do what any gentleman does gay or straight. Get down on one knee and promise to take care of her and the baby.
Needless to say my father was thrilled when I told my parents that my girlfriend was pregnant. To him it meant I was sticking my dick where it belonged and not up some guy’s ass, where to him it clearly did not belong.
Laura and I lived in an apartment together all through the pregnancy, where we did not have sex because I had come to terms that she was not Scott and therefore I had lost interest. Laura was a good sport. I mean she had the ring on her finger, so she did not question me and though she didn’t ask I think she knew. I hadn’t ever really mentioned Scott to her until after the baby’s birth.
The baby, Mary was born 4 months early weighing only 2 pounds. Such a sad little thing. She lived for three months in a plastic box with all kinds of tubes before her little heart gave out. Laura and I said nothing for days. I said nothing because I was afraid that the evil words of my selfishness would come out. The words of “I am glad she is gone, so I no longer have to live a lie.”
Two weeks later Laura got tired of looking at me and when I admitted to her that I was gay, she handed me back my ring. A ring that I now call Mary. I gave Laura the apartment and left. Which explains why I am living at home with my parents. Living in a room I have known for the past twenty-four years as my room and cradling a bottle of Vodka, instead of a baby.
It does not explain why I called up Scott Moffatt, last Friday and asked him to come see me. I am truly sick, in the head, heart and soul.
A sick boy.
I really like this. Tell me what you think.
Sick Boy.
Sick Boy
*Taylor*
God I must be out of my mind. Why did I call him of all people? We hadn’t seen each other since we were sixteen and we hadn’t we really left on good terms. I think last thing I said to him was “Go fuck yourself.” And yet, last Friday I had called him. I had put my pride aside and asked him for a big outrageous favor. Maybe that is why I asked him, because I knew after all these years later, I still was the only person he would do anything for. I knew he wouldn’t turn me down as so many had done before. I was truly sick.
If you ask my father he would agree. That I am a sick, sad, gay piece of shit that walks this earth. I that deserve to burn hell and I will. It’s quite funny really how much my father has changed his tune over the years. I mean for instance, at the age sixteen he had caught Scott and me kissing in the hallway of our hotel rooms, he just smiled and told me at breakfast the next day that it was normal, that it was just a phase, some boys go through. Little did he know just moments before he had caught us in the hallway we were doing something more then just kissing in my room.
Oh you should seen the way my father smiled after Scott and I broke up and I started to go out with girls. My father thought it was because I liked girls when it really was just a sad, stupid, excuse to get back at Scott. Scott could care less, whatever made me happy was his motto. The self-less little bastard. But anyway the revenge blew up in my face, big time.
I would like to say that this story starts with Scott but it actually starts with a girl named Laura. Oh poor Laura, another person I don’t deserve. She is like the girl version of Scott. Blonde, blue eyes, medium build and all kinds of wonderful. When Laura and I met we started dating right away which made my dad even happier, hell even I was happy for reasons I did not realize until we started having sex.
Sadly, when I was having sex with Laura, I’d find myself picturing Scott and at first it didn’t bother me. I mean Laura was the only person I had sex with since Scott. So of course sex with Laura would remind me of him. Eventually though I knew I was kidding myself, especially when I would almost call out Scott’s name during sex. Then Laura became pregnant and I knew I could not fool myself any longer. She was not Scott and I had do what any gentleman does gay or straight. Get down on one knee and promise to take care of her and the baby.
Needless to say my father was thrilled when I told my parents that my girlfriend was pregnant. To him it meant I was sticking my dick where it belonged and not up some guy’s ass, where to him it clearly did not belong.
Laura and I lived in an apartment together all through the pregnancy, where we did not have sex because I had come to terms that she was not Scott and therefore I had lost interest. Laura was a good sport. I mean she had the ring on her finger, so she did not question me and though she didn’t ask I think she knew. I hadn’t ever really mentioned Scott to her until after the baby’s birth.
The baby, Mary was born 4 months early weighing only 2 pounds. Such a sad little thing. She lived for three months in a plastic box with all kinds of tubes before her little heart gave out. Laura and I said nothing for days. I said nothing because I was afraid that the evil words of my selfishness would come out. The words of “I am glad she is gone, so I no longer have to live a lie.”
Two weeks later Laura got tired of looking at me and when I admitted to her that I was gay, she handed me back my ring. A ring that I now call Mary. I gave Laura the apartment and left. Which explains why I am living at home with my parents. Living in a room I have known for the past twenty-four years as my room and cradling a bottle of Vodka, instead of a baby.
It does not explain why I called up Scott Moffatt, last Friday and asked him to come see me. I am truly sick, in the head, heart and soul.
A sick boy.