Title: Sweet Tales of a Manic Loser
Rating: Pg-13
Author: Kiona
Summary: Seth needs help, but will anyone notice? Or will he sink into the depths of his soul? This is a total RS slash pairing with total Seth angst...cutting, crying the whole shebang...hope u enjoy ;)

Seth’s P.O.V. -

I’ve known all of my life that I have the “bad seed“. It has been there all of my life. Although, like the many books have said, that one event triggered it. That one moment, that made the dejection jump up and say, “ Ding, ding, ding!! You have now been awarded a lifetime of misery!” To which I readily replied, “But I already have one.”

Am I the key
of fiction and heartache
and the pain
is of no consequence
when I am hell bent
my walls are
closing in
But speaking of the one moment. Like all moments, this one still burns at the back of my mind like the coal of an undying flame. It all started on a regular day of middle school. I was sitting on my one man bench eating my usual lunch. Why would one so awesomely cool be eating alone, you ask? Try asking the folks of the good ol’ Orange County. They’d probably be quick to point out my evident queerness. Which is a funny word to use seeing as I’m bisexual and all, but that doesn’t come to the surface until much later. Well, enough about the cheerful dead. There I was just being having lunch and enjoying the company of Peter and M.J. Oh the wonders of repressed love. One tries in vain to capture the other’s heart, while the other plays their significant role in society, no matter how heartbreaking the song that the oh so blatant lie played on their hearts. Speaking of Summer, I was hoping that that day she would at least acknowledge my presence. Even if it was with some snide remark.

“Move it, twerp!“

“I love you too, Summer” I replied with an all knowing smile.

“Ew…if you don’t move I’m gonna punch you. And don‘t look at me like that, don‘t you dare look at me like that.“ Needless to say, I moved, as any respectful, hapless romantic would. Hey, don’t look at me like that! I can barely defend myself against the school jocks, let alone the rage of my future wife.

But I knew, even then, that deep inside, she loved me as much as I loved her. She was just going through the motions of being popular, like not being associated with the wrong type.

But as the story would have it, it was just a normal day. Okay, my birthday, but when you’ve got two very much hard working parents and just about no friends, you tend to be the only one to notice things like that. Albeit, that wasn’t the moment, it still kind of hurt to be forgotten. Some may argue that my parents just don’t seem the type. Not anymore. After we had went to our rooms to rest, they showed up with a thousand reasons and that many more apologies. We even took the next day off to celebrate. They promised that they would never, ever, as long as life was still in them be so overworked as to overlook a day that held such value.

“Oh honey, we are so sorry.” said Mom, “ It’s just, we’ve been so busy with work. But that’s no excuse for forgetting our only, most precious son’s birthday.”

Yeah, she always had a way with words.

“Listen kiddo, how about we all take the day off and go to that…uuhh…comics…convention…thingy?

I put on my best sarcastic, let-me-think-about-it face. By this time I had already learned how to manipulate others with sarcasm as to make them believe what I wanted. I was half way into debating whether or not to agree, when Dad threw out his signature half smirk. Like countless others, I too felt the joy that smirk always seems to emit. However, no matter how powerful, that joy never reached my heart. I had received signs of my depression, but never this strong. It was as if the sadness was a pack of wild dogs surrounding my heart, attacking at will. But at that same moment I decided that that would be my own secret. My parents shouldn’t have to worry about me more than they already do. No, I would save that to myself, until…well until forever. At least, that’s what I thought, before one Ryan Atwood showed up needing a place to crash.

Controlling me, controlling me,
is losing me, you're losing,
control of me, control of me,
you're losing

Am I awake
the morning star
that brings me here
since everything in me
between pluto and god
all is hell bent
my walls are closing in
I feel the claim

controlling me, controlling me,
is losing me, you're losing,
control of me, control of me,
you're losing, you're losing
control of me, control of me,
you're losing me then ooyeoh
controlling me, controlling me,
yeah, said
naked, broken my world closing
and I can't find myself
or my way out hey

hey
la
ah ah ah

controlling me
controlling me
controlling me
you're losing me
say ooyeoh
ooyeooh
controlling me
oooh yeah

hell bent
my walls are
closing in

God, I don’t know if I can take this anymore. This pain playing on my emotions every second of every minute of every freakin’ day. I thought that the razor’s blade could keep it at bay. But all it’s done is leave me with scars that it’s getting harder and harder to hide. That’s why I’m here now. In my bathroom, making new scars, wondering if I locked the door after my silent plow through the house. As I went I was silently thankful that no one was there.

*sobbing*

*cutting…bleeding*

*sighing…relaxing*

To this day I can’t believe I let him do what he did. I should’ve been more careful, paid attention to my surroundings, actually locked the god damned door!

Ryan’s p.o.v.-

“Hey Seth.” I called out,” You okay? Kind of came made a scene out there. Seth?”

He’d been being all weird this week. I know, I know, and yes more than usual. His smiles seemed forced and his laughs exaggerated. Sadly, I seem to be the only one to notice this. One would, who knew of my not so platonic feelings for my best friend, would say something like “Yes Ryan, you would be the one to notice the outer workings of Seth’s mouth.” But it’s a nice one. Sure it does run a lot, but I like listening to the things he lets fall out. It’s like listening to the ramblings of a toddler that knows to much for his age. But not to the point as to make said child grow up too fast.

But once I got to know him, I noticed something that other people tended to overlook.

Once become Seth’s best friend you kind of notice that the there are two different Seths. There’s the one that always has a smile and a wise comment, be it about love, the inhabitants of the O.C. or even everyday things that would usually warrant little to no one’s attention, like him in a way. Then there’s pseudo Seth. I call him that because he’s nothing like the Seth I have come to love. Yeah I love the guy, got a problem?

So like I was saying, this Seth is depressed. He gets caught up in his gloomy daydreams only to snap back as if he’s never been away. He springs into action with a remark about Summer’s taste in music, or the lack there of, and everyone just goes along. But I notice, I’ve always noticed when it came to Seth. Because, when it comes down to it, he’s the person who really needs my protection. Marissa needs it too, but you meet her and it’s just dead obvious. Seth needs it more because he has yet to realize that he does. I had yet to understand how bad he needed it though.

But once I opened the door to his bathroom it hit me in the face like a splash of cold water to the face. There he was my best friend, the love of my life, cutting skin open. While tears of sheer anguish rolled down his face.

Out of absolute I quickly closed the door.

Then I thought about it. I hadn’t just caught him jerking off. He was in there…cutting. But why? What could he have to cut over? Nothing. Who abused him when he was little? No one, that’s who. With that though I went back in to catch him cleaning up the last bits of blood and washing off his face.

“Why? Why are you doing this? Does this have to do with me leaving? I told you I’m sorry, I’m not gonna say it again. You know I had to, that baby needed a dad. I couldn’t just up and leave her alone.”

“You’re just saying that because you thought the baby was yours. You knew how Theresa was.”

“Don’t you dare talk about her like that.” I said as I backed him into the sink with, what Summer refers to as, my Chino pose. I don’t like doing it, but the situation called for it. I was in love with the guy, but he’d crossed a line.

“Sorry.” He said looking genuinely apologetic.” And no, it has nothing to do with that. I’m just…being all…blah…you know? Well I guess not seeing as I’ve never walked in on you cutting. And because you don’t cut. You’re smarter than that.”

As he went into his rambling, I calmed down. He may have had no obvious external reason to cut, but from what I’ve heard, no one goes into that gig because they just feel like it.

“You don’t have to smart or dumb to cut.”

As I said that he looked relieved.

“But you can’t be doing it, just to do it.”

With that he prepared himself to get some answers out of Seth. Which I could tell wouldn’t be easy, but it had to be done. If I was gonna get to the bottom of this…well let’s just say, it’d take all of my mental muscle. Or at least some, I can’t just abandon Marissa with her own pain.

No wonder people, or Summer to be more specific, say I perfect the hero role.

By Kiona

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