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Between Your Plastic Smile & Transparent Lies	By : druscillaryan Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > HIM Views: 1521 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know the members of HIM. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Part One
- 2-Part Two
- 1
- 2
Disclaimer: I do not own them. HIM owns the song ‘Face of God’. This is my first fic in this genre so I would quadruply appreciate reviews.

Reviews are requested.

Between Your Plastic Smile & Transparent Lies

Part One

I’d kill to share your pain
And carry the shame
And sell my soul for you just to say
Love’s name in vain

He was lying in bed, half drunk, clutching a fucking teddy bear as if it were the only thing keeping him from falling apart. His blue eyes closed, only to open again and stare at the white hotel room walls. He started when he heard the electronic door handle unlocking. Quickly, he shoved the stuffed animal under the comforter and sat up. The light flicked on and he squinted before his pupils finally adjusted.

“Ville? What are you doing in here? I know the party’s not over.” Bam ran a hand through his hair and moved over slightly as his friend sat down on the edge of his bed.

“I wanted to check on you.” Ville said. “You bailed out of there pretty damn fast.” He gave Bam an odd look before slipping his hand under the younger man’s chin and tilting his head upward. “You’re high.” he said softly.

Bam pulled away and adverted his eyes quickly. “I’m not a kid.” he said, trying to be defensive but sounding so naive.

“You promised me.” Ville said softly. He sighed. “How much?”

“Three lines.” Bam muttered, without even trying to lie. It wouldn’t have worked anyway. The last time Ville had caught him getting high, the older man had slapped him. He apologized later, then made Bam promise he wouldn’t do it anymore and get help if he couldn’t quit.

Bam had promised without meaning it, tried his hardest to keep it even more secretive than he had before. He couldn’t look into those green eyes now, see the disappointment. It wasn’t like he did this to hurt anybody. It was the opposite.

Ville reached out and gently placed his hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Why?”

The other man shrugged, trying to smile and managing a badly executed sham of one.

“That’s not a fucking answer.” the other man snapped. For some odd reason, Bam could make him lose his temper in ten seconds flat. His voice softened when he noticed how tightly his friend’s jaw was clenched in that pathetic fake smile. “Don’t smile like that.” Bam looked at him in confusion for a moment. “Don’t smile when you don’t mean it.”

“I always smile.” Bam said, turning away again.

“Nobody smiles all the time.”

“I do!” the younger man snapped, completely losing it. “I have to! You have no idea how hard it is to smile all the fucking time. Don’t preach to me about shit you don’t fucking understand.” His jaw clenched and his bottom lip trembled despite him biting it. He pulled his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them resting his head on his arms. It was a sort of sitting up fetal position. Helpless.

“You don’t have to smile around me.” Ville said softly after a moment.

“I do.” Bam said, his voice muffled. Ville brought his arms up to tug at Bam’s, succeeding against the nonexistent fight his friend put up. “What?” Bloodshot blue eyes stared into dark green orbs full of concern. “Don’t . . . Don’t you fucking look at me like that!” he yelled, pushing at the older man.

“If you smile like that at me one more time I’m going to slap it off your face.” Ville said in a soft voice. “If there’s one person you don’t have to fake shit with, it’s me.”

I have to fake everything with you. “They’re going to miss you at the party.” Bam said, collapsing backward on the bed and pulling the comforter over his head. “You should go back.” He fought like hell when he felt two hands tugging at the blanket, but lost after a few minutes of struggle and lots of cursing.

Ville was lying next to him in the bed, half glaring, half looking just as depressed as Bam felt. The younger one chanced a smile and Ville slapped him without a moment’s hesitation. “I told you not to fucking do that.”

“I’m supposed to smile.” the other one whispered. “I’m Bam fucking Margera. I can’t get depressed.” He looked away and screwed his eyes shut. He felt two arms slowly wrap around him and he opened his eyes, grabbing two handfuls of Ville’s shirt and bursting into uncontrollable tears. His body was shaking from sobs he’d been keeping locked up. Ville had never seen anyone cry so hard in his life.

Bam tried to choke out words between the strangled sobs. “I just . . . it fucking . . . hurts . . . can’t . . .” And then he gave up trying to talk and just cried for a solid fifteen minutes. He finally pulled away and wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand, letting out a sad, choked laugh. “Don’t . . . don’t tell anyone? I don’t want them to know. I just can’t—“

“I won’t.” Ville assured him. “But you have to promise me something first.”

“No drugs, right?”

“And you have to promise you’ll tell me when you get like this, when you can’t smile. No matter what. I want you to swear it.” Ville said, completely serious.

The younger man hesitated for a second, adverting his eyes before slowly looking back into Ville’s green ones. “I-I swear.”

“What do you swear?”

“I swear to tell you when I . . . when I get depressed like this.” Bam said softly, closing his eyes. He fell asleep like that, in Ville’s arms, his head resting against his chest.

---

Bam woke up to Ville’s arm sliding out from underneath him. His eyes opened slowly and he made a confused face. “What the—“ He sat up as Ville did. “You could have left, you know.” Bam said.

Ville laughed. “With you laying on my arm like that? Well, now that you’re awake, no offense, darling . . . But I need to shower and you probably should, too.” He stood up and made to move toward the door, but stopped and turned around. Slowly, he planted a soft kiss to Bam’s cheek. “You swore.” he whispered before leaving.

---

It was four in the morning three months later when Ville pocketed the key to Bam’s hotel room and let himself in. And after one glance at the table beside the bed, he shook the younger man awake so hard Bam’s head hit the headboard.

“What the fuck?” Bam pushed Ville away, eyes wide. “What the hell is your problem?”

“What the hell is this?” Ville snapped back, snatching the thin piece of metal off the table. “Are you going to tell me that’s paint?”

Bam looked away as Ville slammed the razor blade back onto the wooden surface. “You promised me.”

“It was four there.” Bam said softly. “And you were in England. It wouldn’t have done any good. Don’t worry about—“ He stopped speaking at the look on Ville’s face.

Slowly, Ville took off his coat and thrust his wrist at Bam, showing an array of thin white scars. The younger man looked away, but Ville slid a hand under his chin and turned his head back. “No, I want you to look. This is what happens when people don’t worry.” Bam closed his eyes, a single tear rolling down his cheek. “Don’t do this to yourself.”

“I’m sorry.” Bam whispered, opening his blue eyes. “I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

Ville sat down and gently brushed the dark curls out of his friend’s face. “Except yourself.” he said. “It’s got to make your shoulders hurt, balancing the world on them.”

“I’ll be alright.” Bam whispered. “I always am.”

“You’re a liar.” Ville whispered back, his voice cracking. “I’d hate you for it.” He watched the face turn away before catching the blue eyes with his. “But you know I can’t.”

“I don’t want to.” the younger one breathed. “I don’t want to hurt anyone. I don’t want to lie. I don’t want to pretend.” His crystal orbs filled with tears. “But I have to lie and I have to pretend. It’s the only way I can keep from hurting people.”

Ville took one of Bam’s hands in his, his fingers tracing over the black nails before gently stroking the lifeline on his palm. “It hurts me when you hurt.”

“Don’t . . .” Bam whispered, tears forming his eyes. “Please?”

“Don’t what?” Ville looked those blue eyes with concern and compassion in his.

The hand was pulled heatedly from his grip. “Don’t do that! Don’t look at me like that. Don’t care about me this much. If you stop caring I won’t hurt you! I won’t and then it will all be fine and . . . and . . . just don’t,” he finished pitifully, the tears sliding down his cheeks. “Ville . . . please?”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“Why is it so hard for you to hate me?!” Bam screamed. “Just . . . just . . .” Then his arms were around Ville’s neck and he was sobbing again. “Please . . . just go . . .” he begged, even as two arms wrapped around him and he clung even tighter to the other man. He was choking out pleas until his throat constricted and all he could do was cry.

The tears finally stopped flowing and Bam was whispering something over and over into Ville’s shoulder. Despite trying his hardest, the other man couldn’t make it out.

”Don’t leave me. Please, don’t leave me.”

---TBC---

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Between Your Plastic Smile & Transparent Lies