June 1st - June 19th
It's almost summer! The last few weeks of school have come, and students will need to study hard for their final exams! Don't let up yet, or your grades won't be what you want them to. Of course, the weather is almost perfect and pristine, in attempts to lure students away from their studies.
Me myself, I was never sure,
Was it the liquor,
Or was it my soul?
Thrown precariously in a trunk is a worn, leather bound journal. The leather is a russet brown and its age can be seen by the bent corners and the softness of the cover. Gold letters that spell out Libertine are engraved on the front cover. Inside, there are many full pages with music notes, lyrics, and journal entries quickly scrawled inside. Spare pieces of parchment and letters stick out from the edges, clearly having been quickly shoved into the pages. No hex or jinx protects the journal from being opened, but as soon as one opens the pages, the black ink disappears right before their eyes.
And here I thought I was finally off these goddamn anti-depressant pills.
Yeah, Mum just sent me another case full of them. Fuck. They don't do anything for me at all. They don't make me feel any different and well, if anything I'll probably get dependent on them. So much for quitting drugs, huh? I would just flush them down the toilet but Mum has some sort of spell on them that forces me to take them. Doesn't trust me I guess. Typical. I guess I'll just have to keep shoving these things down my throat. I'd rather just smoke some gillyweed. At least that gives you a nice high. These just... suck.
Things have been going really well lately. The band has landed so many gigs it's hard to keep count of where we're going to be performing. Maybe I should start a list... Nah, too lazy. Jimmy's the one who's supposed to be keeping track of the gigs and Nathan and Jean-Claude are the treasurers, so they keep track of the money. Me and Bobby are no good with money or lists, so we have no hand in anything. All we do is write the songs. Haha.
Speaking of me and Bobby, things are going really well with us too. It was a bit awkward at first, especially when we were trying to get some work done, but we've adjusted fairly well, I must say. We've even managed to find the time to go out on a few dates, especially since the carnival's in town for two weeks. And since we've volunteered to play for no pay on Fridays of both weeks (the first of which is today), the carinval guys gave us free unlimited rides on everything, which was bloody awesome. Sure, the rides aren't as brilliant as the ones at the Haunted Harbor, but still. Free rides? How can anyone pass that up? Me and Bobby must have rode all the rides at least five times. The ferris wheel was the best, of course, especially since they had fireworks and everything. It was pretty wicked.
Bobby's mum wanted him to get another job beside just playing though, which kind of sucks. It's nice to get discounted food, but it's seriously cutting into our rehersal/writing/hanging out time. I go visit him once in a while though.
Anyway, I need to get ready for that carnival gig soon, so I'll end this here. Here are some pictures JC took and gave to me to keep you satisfied.
Slipped in the pages are a few photographs with short excerpts written on the backs:
Okay. What the bloody FUCK? Before I say anything further, let me attach the letter I just recieved from Mum.
Dear Armand,
I know you have many other things to do at the moment, but there's something I want to discuss with you. You're always telling me how you're better now and you don't need to go to therapy and take the pills, but Dr. Hartley thinks you should come down to Liverpool for a session every once in a while to see if you're really ready to get off the pills and therapy. Your first session will be tomorrow. I've already talked it over with the Headmistress, so don't worry about that.
Your Mum
I repeat: What the FUCK? It's one thing to send me pills every month, but to make me come down and see my shrink? That's just bloody fucking rubbish. I don't want to go down to Liverpool and I don't want to go see bloody fucking Hartley. I can't believe Mum is putting me through this. I really can't believe it. It's times like this when I wonder if living with Dad would have been better. He probably would have hit me for being bi, but at least he wouldn't have sent me to a fucking shrink. Merlin. Leave Mum to come up with something like this. I'll keep you updating on these bloody sessions
Yeah, I know I said I would update, but things have been bloody crazy lately. What with Mum sending me these pills, the masque coming up, and McGonagall out of commission. I've been doing pretty well with the masque though. I found this great singer and fancy that: I don't have to pay him anything. He's a Hufflepuff 5th year. Lucian Bishop. Bloody brilliant singer, but has a bit of a confidence problem. I guess that's what I get for finding a Hufflepuff, but I think I can get him over the stage fright. It's pretty normal after all.
But going back to the subject of the pills, I think Hartley is trying to get me back to the way I was at my worst because these pills are like drugs. I mean, I like them. The stronger stuff, it feels good. I hate saying it, but I really like them. It's like the Gillyweed and it's why I took all those drugs and shit in the first place. I love how it feels not to feel. It's like, you can do anything and everything is fine and perfect. You don't really feel happy, but you get this numb feeling that sometimes is better than feeling happy, you know? Blood hell. If they don't get me off this stuff I'm going to get addicted to it.
I don't really know how to say this, but I think I'm attracted to Bobby. Like, really, really attracted. I just figured out this whole bisexuality thing and I haven't told the guys, so I really don't know what to do. I've try to tell them a bunch of times when I got back from Hogwarts, but it's been hard, you know? I don't know how they'll take it, becaue as far as I know, they're all straight, which might make them... uncomfortable, I guess. A lot of the people in my year are at Hogwarts when I told them and word travels fast you know. But I don't really care what they think, because they're just school people, but the guys are my best friends and I can't keep secrets from them.
Bloody hell. I have no idea what to do.
And I could just not tell them, but I can't just keep it a secret from them forever, especially not when I... you know, like Bobby. I'm not the kind of person to not act upon my feelings. When I like someone I usually tell them or show them, but it's so much different with blokes... What are the chances that the bloke you like actually likes other guys, you know? It's just not all that likely. And I don’t want anything awkward going on between us just because I’ve figured out something new about myself. The band is doing so well and I don’t want to screw it up because of my feelings. At the same time, if I don’t say anything, I think I’ll bloody burst. Life sucks.
I can't get you out of my head mind
I can't stop thinking about you
It's like you're always constantly there
Throwing me deeper into insanity
Without even seein' it through.
(Fuck... This is rubbish. I am doomed for the rest of my miserable life.) Edited by: Snake Skinned at: 8/2/05 9:03 pm
Yes, ladies and gentlemen, today is my eighteenth birthday. On this day, Armand Charles D'Angelo-Crestemere has become legal. This is so bloody awesome. Mum even sent me a card, some chocolate, and money. Yeah, money. I guess she couldn't even think of what to get her own son and had to result to the money thing, but whatever. At least she remembered this time. Or rather, found the time to actually send something. Merlin, sometimes I wish she'd just stop working for two seconds so she can actually have a life. She doesn't even notice blokes checking her out, which is a bad sign. I mean, most people might think the thought of their mum dating other guys as awkard and wrong, but seriously. Mum needs to get a life.
But getting off the subject of Mum for a moment, I ran up to my room to grab something for the party when I saw this... barn owl on my bed post. It was brown, old, scruffy... looked like it wouldn't be able to get into the air with the feathers it had. Yeah. Trace's owl Delirum. The owl had a 'care package' from Trace. Merlin. I thought I was done with this. I know he's just sending a birthday present (surprised me that he actually remembered my birthday. He's so stoned most of the time it's a wonder he remembers anything), but I was so addicted to this stuff. He gave me a few grams all of the stuff I used to get (powded adder's venom, ground manticore stinger, etc...) along with a baggie of dried Gillyweed.
Fuck you Trace.
The addictions. I don't want them to start again, but I don't know if I can resist it. I can't even get myself to through the care package into the lake. Merlin, what's wrong with me?
Well, for now, I'm just going to keep it in that secret compartment in my trunk. I'll get rid of it later. For now, I have a party to attend to and I'm going get bleeding smashed so I can forget about all of this.
HA. In my therapists face. I am so doing better now. I think most of it thanks to the fact that Lucian sort of admitted his attraction toward me, which, in turn, allowed me to admit mine toward him and yeah. Normally, we'd probably be going out by now, but he just broke up with Temp... I mean, "Girl-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named" and yeah. That was how this whole thing kind of happened in the first place. Lucian told me to meet him in the trophy room and I knew something was up and then he told me and then we were talking and then somehow we ended up snogging. But yeah.
Well, I've had a few meetings with my therapist now (the latest being just yesterday) and I decided it's about time I give you a taste of what exactly goes on during those sessions. I could just tell, but that would be boring, so instead I will write out a portion of the conversation we had yesterday to the best of my knowledge. Most of our conversations go like this.
Hartley: Hello, Armand.
Me: Hey. And to save you the time of asking, I am doing well and I am feeling well.
Hartley: That's good. Let's get started shall we?
Me: If we must.
H: Your birthday was only a few days ago...?
M: Yeah, it was. I'm eighteen now, so technically I don't really have to be here. I'm no longer a minor and I can take care of myself.
H: (Laughs) I suppose so, yet you still are here at the request of your mother.
M: Oh yeah. I'm a mama's boy.
H: How is school? Are you doing well?
M: The usual. I do the homework, I study, I pass tests. No biggy.
H: And your social life?
M: Going pretty well. I got in trouble for throwing a bloody awesome party though. My week of detention is up soon.
H: Mmhm...
M: And well, my best friend has a girlfriend now... I mean, I'm happy for him and all, but it's like, he doesn't have a lot of time to hang out with me anymore. But I'm fine. It's giving me time to make new friends. And hey, it was all because of Carsa that I achieved my lifelong goal of snogging Trey Jennings.
H: Carsa is...?
M: Bryce's girlfriend.
H: Ah... I see. And how is your love life going?
M: I knew you were going to ask that. Well, it's actually going well.
H: Really? What's her name?
M: His name is Lucian Bishop. I became friends with him a few weeks ago since I drafted him for our Halloween Masque and it wasn't "like that" at first, but somehow it ended up "like that", and I'm glad it did. We've decided to wait a bit before getting our relationship going though.
H: And why is that?
M: Well, Lucian just broke up with his first girlfriend and I think he's taking it pretty hard.
H: So, is Lucian-
M: Bi? No. I don't think so. I think this is just a phase you know? That "all guys are attracted to another guy at some point in their lives" thing.
H: I see... So, how do you feel about him?
M: Merlin. Do all therapists ask these "How does it make you feel?" questions?
H: Armand-
M: Yeah, yeah. "Just answer the question." I got it. Well, I like him. I think I could really care about him and I haven't really thought that about anyone since... well, since.
H: Since Bobby?
M: (Stiffly) Yes, since Bobby.
H: Does talking about him make you feel uncomfortable?
M: You know, I answer all these questions and I never get anything out of you. Why don't you ever, you know, talk about yourself. I'm a great listener. I am. Really. I mean, I know I talk a lot, but-
H: Armand...
M: Right. You don't talk about yourself because my mum is paying you a great sum of money so you can listen to my problems. Gotcha.
H: So, about Bobby...
M: Do you have a therapist? I mean, what if a therapist needs a therapist? Do they go find some other therapist or do they like, listen to themselves talk and evaluate themselves on their own? I guess that would be kind of weird... But then what about that shrink? What if he needs one too? Is there a never-ending chain of shrinks being shrinks for other shrinks?
H: (Pause) That subject obviously is still a bit tender, so let's go back to Lucian.
M: I already told you that I like him. What else is there to say?
H: Well, you haven't had a steady relationship for a while-
M: Yeah, I know. But I think I'm over my satyriasis phase. I think I'm ready to settle down. I mean, hey, I haven't tried to hit on you in... what? Since we started meeting again? You've got to give me credit for that.You're still looking very fit, by the way.
H: I have a wife, Armand.
M: Yeah, I know. You've told me. But there's nothing wrong with a person complimenting another person, right?
H: Mmhm...
M: What are you writing? Can't you be more subtle when you write stuff? Do it when I'm talking or something. It makes me want to take that notepad a way from you. I will be sorely disappointed if I find pointless doodles on there, Doc.
H: Don't worry, Armand. I assure you, I am writing proper notes.
M: Good. At least that'll keep my mom satisfied for a while.
H: How is your relationship with your mother going?
M: Are you sure you don't want to, you know... hit a bar or something instead? I'm legal now, so you don't have to worry about-
H: Armand...
M: I'm kidding!
Mwahahahahahaha! This journal has officially been hijacked by Robert Tobias Elwyn (a.k.a. Bobby the almighty)! Feel my wrath! (Insert more insane laughing here.)
Anyway, I saw this lying on Armand's bed, and as sneaky as he thinks he is, I helped him with the spell to make the ink disappear, so the block isn't really a block. And yes, Armand, if you're reading this, you're not as sneaky as you think. You're cute, but unfortunately, your good qualities end there. No, I'm kidding. You know I'm kidding, especially because if you got a hold of my journal (except that I don't keep one unlike you, you girl), you would be writing insults and obscene things in it.
You dirty bastard, you.
Well, since I have this journal in my possession, I might as well have some fun with it, right? Don’t worry Armand, I won’t draw hearts all over the pages and put my name it, then copy the pages and distribute them to everyone (even though that would definitely give me an ego boost). That’s just the kind of immature thing I would expect you to do. But me, I am much more sophisticated and established than you (you can stop laughing now), so I’ll do something else. I’m not sure what yet, but I’ll think of something eventually. Oh! I know. So far, this journal is pretty boring and filled with pictures and little excerpts that girls like you would giggle at, so I’m going to spice things up and little bit. Here we go:
A Day in the Life of Armand D’Angelo-Crestemere
Hi, my name is Armand and I play the bass. I’m talented, but not as sneaky as I think. Too bad. But luckily, I have four awesomely cool friends to make up for my own lacking because they are bloody brilliant, especially my hot and studly boyfriend, Bobby, who I would DIE without. His voice is like warm honey to my ears and he totally could have been the new singer for Nirvana when Kurt Cobain died if he’d been old enough.
Anyway, my day starts when I get my lazy arse out of bed and drag myself to the bathroom to do God knows what, and then I put on my black emo jeans and the shirt that my studly boyfriend bought for me and go to the kitchen to eat. I eat practically anything, and when I don’t have food in the fridge, I go to my friend Jimmy’s house like a loser and mooch off of his food because his mom loves me. I don’t know why she doesn’t love Bobby as much as she loves me. I mean, he’s so much studlier and cooler than I am in my emo jeans. So, I eat breakfast and then go outside because I have nothing else better to and go find my studly boyfriend who I would DIE without and find him writing a new song for out band.
But right when I walk over to give him a big girly hug, a giant LION jumps out of the bushes and blocks my path. I get scared and try to run away, but the LION runs after me and corners me and a conveniently located alleyway. I scream for help and soon, my studly boyfriend Bobby rushes over and says, “Don’t worry! I’ll save you!” and tackles the LION to the ground and
(There are some scribbles and drops of ink here as if there was a struggle for the pen.)
This is the real Armand saying that please ignore this entry. I obviously didn’t do a very good job of hiding my journal and I’ll make sure to do that next time. Anyway, now I have to go deal with my studly but very dead boyfriend.
We'll never be the same, never feel this way again
I'd give you anything but you want pain.
A little water please, I taste you all over my teeth.
Never again. Just tonight? Okay.
Armand,
Hey, mate. Haven't spoken to you in a while. Hope you've been good. It's blooding fucking cold up here in Bulgaria, but I think I'll live. If not, I expect a hundred white roses at my funeral. Don't be scant.
Anyway, not exactly sure how to write this, but Bobby found something while he was cleaning out some stuff and he wanted me to send it to you. Says it's yours.
Well, happy holidays, mate!
Jean-Claude.
You know what I found in that little package that came with the letter? A ring. No, not just any ring, the ring. That silver band I got for him that one Christmas. Before "the incident" I never saw him without it.
Edited by: 
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