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Razorblades Eternal Kiss	By : littlpplkilppl Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > Slipknot Views: 1104 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know the members of Slipknot. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Razorblades Eternal Kiss
- 1
The tiny ebony haired man lay curled into a tight ball in the center of the bed, his whole body shaking with the force of his sobs. His long, ebony hair, normally so well taken care of, brushed out straight and shiny now lay tangled and matted with his tears, in total disarray around him. Pale cheeks stained with the black mascara and eyeliner that his tears had streaked, forming dark blotches on the garishly designed comforter below him. His mind was in chaos, his heart was breaking, shattering a bit more with every sound that could be heard from the next room.

When he had fallen in love with the tall, slender often feminine appearing Italian, he wasn't sure. Though it had been shortly after the unprecedented tour of their two bands had begun. As they were both rather outspoken about their bands, they were often together in the spotlight, having to explain the reasoning and ideas behind the joint tour of one of Italy's most popular up and coming Techno bands, and the United States rather gory and gothic Murderdolls. Somewhere in the midst of all the media and concerts, they had developed a very close friendship, though for Joey, it had turned to love. A love that he could not voice, but often hinted at.

The paper thin walls of the cheap hotel only seemed to enhance and echo the moans and cries from the rooms two occupants. Both of them being voices that he recognized extremely well. For well over three hours now, he had listened to the pleasure induced sounds, his heart and resolve weakening with each passing minute. When finally his heart broke it was almost an audible sound.

A sharp, strangled sob escaped his throat as he suddenly bolted from the bed. His tears blinding him, he stumbled to his suitcase that was laying open on the floor where he had carelessly thrown it in an angry fit, before breaking down into tears when he had returned to the room alone. Reaching into the hidden compartment on the bottom, he pulled out a familiar small black case and his beaten and battered notebook. Returning to the bed, curling around the pillow on the opposite side of the bed, he began to furiously write in the notebook, black mascara tinted tears falling to streak the notebook page as he wrote..

Grace,
You always seem to have an answer for everything, a solution for every problem. You always seem to know when something is wrong and always know how to fix it. So figure this one out. How the hell did you miss my problems?? Or were you trying to ignore your feelings in this situation?

It doesn't matter now, I solved the problem for you. Though you should know something. I love you. I have for a long time now, but you were too busy or blind, or scared to notice it. Do you not see how much you hurt me every time you went off with the different little fan girls and boys and left me alone?

Somehow I think you do, but I don't think you care. So this shouldn't bother you much. I doubt that you'll even miss me. Goodbye Grace. I love you still, even though you never returned the feelings.

Your forgotten guitarist,
Joey

Laying the tear streaked notebook down, he ran his pale slender fingers over the words, smearing the wet spots his tears had left. Smiling sadly though his tears, he lightly kissed the tips of his fingers before pressing them to Grace's name. Picking up the small black case, he held it in his hands for several long minutes, simply staring at it. Slowly unzipping the case, he pulled out a faded and crumpled piece of paper. Reading the words that were written started his tears anew as he pulled his razorblade from the case. Gently kissing the cold metal of the blade, he placed it to the inside of his left forearm. Pressing hard on the small sliver of metal, he slowly pulled it up the length of his arm. As the blade cut deep, ice blue eyes watched its progress with morbid fascination as the pale, perfect skin split beneath the sharp blade, crimson blood welling up to streak down his arm and drip onto the bed.

Raising the blade from his skin, he habitually licked it clean of the blood that now stained the silver surface. Touching the sharp edge to his skin once more, he once again cut deep, three more identical cuts. Once for the pain, twice for falling in love, and another for being too weak to live with it. Watching the skin part, his pale white bones visible in many places, he smiled slowly as he repeated the process with his other arm. Though the second time around, the cuts were not so neatly placed, but rather jagged and torn as his hand was shaking from the pain and increasing weakness from the blood loss.

As he felt himself getting weaker he curled around the pillow that Grace had lain on that morning, as they were talking, laughing and joking about the remaining dates on the tour. When Grace had tentatively kissed him before quickly leaving the bed and running from the room. He had not spoken to him for the rest of the evening. In fact, had pointedly ignored him, badly enough to the point that Joseph and Victor both had noticed and questioned them about it. Shakily taking in his last breath he breathed in Grace’s familiar and once comforting scent that still lingered on the pillow. Whispering his name one last time, he sighed softly as his beautiful ice blue eyes closed for the last time, his tiny body fully relaxing as the last of his life's blood drained onto the bed below him.

Early the next morning Grace went to Joey's room to wake him for the interview they had that morning. As usual, some nosey reporter was wanting to know why Dope Stars Inc and Murderdolls had decided to tour together given their decidedly different genre's of music. As he and Joey were basically the spokesmen for their respective bands, the main responsibility of the interview fell to them. Patiently knocking loudly on the door, several times and finally resorting to calling Joey’s name when the diminutive guitarist didn't answer, he didn't really get worried cause Joey did this sometimes when he had drank too much the night before. Though Grace didn't remember seeing him drink anything other than soda the night before. Maybe he was just tired and sleeping hard, or possibly already awake and waiting for him downstairs. Though that lastt scenario was highly unlikely as he knew that the little American hated waking up before noon.

With a soft exasperated sigh, he pulled the key card to Joey's room out of his pocket, (he had been designated as Joey's alarm clock for this tour as he was the only one that could wake the little fireball up with out getting something thrown at him). Carefully opening the door, he cautiously peeked in, fully expecting anything within the tiny American's reach to come flying at him when the light from the hallway penetrated the darkness of the room. Raising his eyebrows at the dim light shining into the room from the washroom, he knew then that something wasn't right. Joey severely disliked light of any kind when he was sleeping. As he advanced further into the room, there was a strange, yet familiar metallic scent in the air.

Frowning in confusion and mounting worry Grace quickly flipped on the light, but immediately wished he hadn't. A sharp, keening cry of shock and pain sounded from his throat as he saw Joey's small, pale, bloody body laying on the blood soaked bedclothes. Whimpering Joey's name in a small, scared voice, he quickly crossed the room to the bed. Though his heart was desperately hoping to save the tiny man, his mind and instincts were telling him that it was too late to even try.

"Joey, Joey baby, why did you do this? I love you." He whimpered, unmindful of the blood that was staining his clothes and skin as he gathered the guitarists cold, lifeless body into his arms holding him close as he gently kissed his cold lips. It was then that he noticed the note, still laying beside Joey's body. Gingerly picking it up, his tears began to fall faster as he read it. "Joey I do love you. I just thought that you could never love me the same way." He murmured, his voice breaking with the sorrow that threatened to consume him. "How did things get this fucked up?"

As he reluctantly lay the notebook down, he noticed the crumpled, blood and tear streaked piece of paper clutched in Joey's hand. Gently, he removed it, but before he had a chance to read it, Joseph and Victor walked into the room. The normally standoffish towards each other vocalists had come to check on why their most requested band members were missing from the interview that was already in progress downstairs. Duel gasps of surprise sounded from them at the bloody sight that met their shocked eyes.

Joseph kept whispering Joey's name over and over as he sank to his knees beside the bed, his long black and red dreadlocks obscuring his now tear streaked pale cheeks. Slowly, almost fearfully he reached out to gently stroke his fingertips along Joey's cold, tear streaked cheek, a soft whimper escaping him at the feel of the cold, dead flesh beneath his fingers. The tiny guitarist had been his best friend and occasional lover for many years. Never again would he hear Joey's soft, almost insane laugh when he was feeling particularly devious about something, nor would he ever hold the tiny guitarist close, both of them sweaty and sticky after a show, but ecstatic to have finished another concert. The cold, unresponsive flesh below his fingers proved that to him with a finality that nothing else ever would.

Though he was clearly shocked and upset by the scene that had greeted them, Victor was able to hold his emotions together and call for the police. Once the necessary call was made, he silently slid down the wall beside the door, drawing his knees up to his chest and wrapping his arms around them, silent tears streaking from his eyes. Though he wanted to, he was unable to bring himself to get closer to the tiny American whom he had befriended over the course of their tour together.

Several hours later, after the police and paramedics had came, asked all their necessary, but intrusive nonetheless questions, and taken Joey's body back to the city hospital and morgue, Victor pulled a very shaky and fragile Grace into his hotel room and pushed him into the washroom. "Go take a shower Grace, you need it." He murmured gently, his dark eyes full of sympathy for his clearly upset keyboardist and friend.

Grace silently nodded his agreement, allowing himself to be gently pushed into the washroom. He knew that Victor was right, the day had been extremely stressful and draining for them all, but he did not have showering on his mind. Retreating to the corner of the small room, he sat down on the cold tiles of the floor, though he did not really notice the coolness beneath his body as he took out the worn and stained piece of paper that Joey had been holding so close. Simply staring at it for several long minutes, both fearful and yet curious of just what it contained, he finally began to read it.

He loves pain, but he loves me too.
Sometimes I think he likes causing me pain
more than loving me.
I wish I knew why he acts like this.
I cry at night because he won't let me in
He holds all of his feelings inside and tells no one
I love him so much, but what can I do?
Why does he do this to me?
Today I woke up to a note that said I hate you
to which I replied to myself.
No you don't.
He's drunk on hate and pain, as am I
Every night I turn to a razorblades kiss
I'm killing myself one kiss at a time
I hear the demon from my nightmare laugh,
As now he has me right where he wants me
Tonight he comes back, he says he's sorry
I say no, and I can only smile as I see the angel of death coming my way
He is my rescuer, the one who does love me,
Who will never leave me, the one who I will love forever.

"Joey, Joey, Joey." Grace whispered, his voice thick with sorrow and guilt. "I did … do love you, if only you had known. Oh fuck, what have I done? You must have heard me with Eric last night. How fucking stupid could I have been? I saw you leave the party early, and I know that you never do that. I knew you had started cutting yourself again as well, but I didn't press the issue with you because I thought you just needed space. I was wrong, so wrong."

With crystalline tears streaking down his pale cheeks, he wrote on the paper with Joey's confession.

I am so sorry Joey. We will be together now. I can not stay here knowing that you did love me and that it is my fault that you did this, all because I was too scared to say something about my feelings or to question you when I was worried. I love you and I will see you very soon, my love. Forever Yours, Grace

Saying a soft apology to Victor for taking things without asking, something that the oftentimes testy singer hated. He took one up one of the mans razors and broke the blade off. Testing it on his finger for sharpness, he hissed softly as it easily cut into the soft flesh, leaving a small, thin line of crimson in its wake. Turning the blade to his wrist, he cut deeply, pressing so hard that the thin sliver of a blade broke off, deeply buried in his wrist. Smirking at the irony of it, he lay back against the wall as he slowly grew weaker. Rereading the note one last time, he clutched the stained, crumpled and once more blood stained piece of paper to his heart, his fresh crimson life fluid mixing with the already dried stains of Joey's blood. As he took his last breath he whispered. "I love you, Joey."

As the minutes passed, becoming a half hour, then an hour, and he didn't hear the water start nor did Grace come out of the washroom, Victor became worried. So he decided to check on him, though he knew that he was risking an extremely violent reaction from the very private keyboardist for his privacy being interrupted. Knocking quietly on the door and getting no answer, he knocked a bit louder and called Grace's name. When he still received no answer, he slowly opened the door only to cry out in shock at finding Grace's slowly cooling body still curled up in the corner, the cream colored tiles of the washroom floor awash with the bright crimson fluid that no longer flowed through the mans veins.

Though he knew it was a hopeless gesture, Victor nonetheless ran to him, falling to his knees beside the man, his jeans becoming soaked with the already cold blood that coated the floor, the cold wetness making him shiver. Placing gentle fingers to the pale, slender neck, he checked to see if he could find a pulse; he found none. It was then that he noticed the paper clutched in Grace's hand. Gently taking it from the mans now limp fingers, he read it quickly, tears coming to his eyes as he realized just what had happened, and how it could have been prevented.

Having only been in the room next door, Joseph easily heard Victor's cry and immediately went to check on the Italian vocalist. Not bothering to knock on the door, he simply walked into the room, soft brown eyes immediately searching the room for Victor's familiar face. Seeing the light from the open washroom door and hearing the Italian's soft sobs, he slowly approached the open door. Seeing the beautiful keyboardist's body in the corner, he quickly went to Victor's side. Gently pulling the man out of the blood soaked floor, he easily lifted him into his arms as the man seemed unwilling to move from Grace's side.

Carrying him to the bed in the other room, gently laying the smaller man down and curling up with him, he simply held him close. Getting out his cell phone, he made the once again necessary calls to the police and paramedics. As he held the much smaller vocalist close, simply offering what small comfort he could, Victor pressed the blood soaked piece of paper into his hands, his eyes imploring the dreadlocked singer to read it.

Nodding silently, Joseph quickly read the note, easily recognizing Joey's handwriting, then Grace's emotionally scribbled confession below the guitarists heartfelt words. "How did we miss the signs?" He asked softly, his arms tightening around Victor's slender waist as he nuzzled into the soft, pale skin of his neck. "They were our best friends, we should have seen it and helped them. We've been around long enough that we should be able to read human emotions, especially those of our friends." He whispered, his voice soft, sad and full of guilt for not noticing that Joey had fallen in love with the beautiful Italian.

"That is an answer that we may never know, my love." Victor answered softly, turning to his side to curl into Joseph's arms. For centuries they had searched the world together for the perfect couple to join them for eternity, they had found it in Joey and Grace, though they had missed the signs.

The funeral had been beautiful; sad and heart breaking, but still beautiful as humans were want to create rather than rejoicing in the rebirth that death brought. Victor and Joseph slowly walked away from the moonlit grave where two tortured souls now lay, peacefully side by side for all eternity. They had arranged the side by side burial simply because they had felt it only right to the two men whom had given up so much to be with one another. Together in death as they had not been able to be in life.

They had revisited the serene and peaceful gravesite of their two closest friends, tonight on the one year anniversary of their deaths to return to them the note that had professed their love for one another. They had said their goodbyes a year ago on this night, tonight, they would welcome the two beautiful men back into an entire new life, one that would last for eternity. Letting the moonlight glint off his fangs, Joseph stepped into the silvery beam of moonlight, Victor at his side. Smiling slowly, his soft brown eyes locked onto the two black clad figures standing in the shadows beyond Grace and Joey's grave. "Love is for eternity, you have returned to us." He whispered, though he knew that they heard him clearly as they both stepped into the moonlight before him.
- 1
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Razorblades Eternal Kiss