~*POV Mike*~

Aah shit!,
Whiskeyhands, y'all know who it is,
I say what the fuck i want
Get it, get it,
Bounce, bounce
Shake, shake,
Get money, get paid
We fucking own this city all night
I learned it at a young age get money get paid, lets get drunk tonight
Girls in the club, come get down with us, lets get drunk tonight
Get it, get it,
Bounce, bounce
Shake, shake,
Get money, get paid
We fucking run this city all night
Its 4 o clock in the morning, i stretch and yawn,
Cant sleep, all the bitches, they blowing at my phone,
Leave a message with my secretare, she'll be sitting on my lap, gotta pop that cherry
I'm in so-cal, you know how we do,
Crack a 40 on the yacht, cruising 80 knots,
Fuck your boat bitch, i'm on a yacht,
Sporting Louis sneakers, never flippy-flops
I learned it at a young age, get money, get paid,
Fuck bitches, go away, always have to up heys
I get pussy but quays i waste on poolside
My Swedish masseuse shes on standby,
Its me and Michael Phelps, we smoking chrome blunts
The way hes spinning laps, why you gotta front,
Shits real homie, i come from S.D.
Where all we got is women, and the best weed
Get it, get it,
Bounce, bounce
Shake, shake,
Get money, get paid
We fucking own this city all night
I learned it at a young age gotta get money get paid, lets get drunk tonight
Ladies in the club, come get down with us, lets get drunk tonight
Get it, get it,
Bounce, bounce
Shake, shake,
Get money, get paid
We fucking run this city all night
Whiskeyhands,
I see the world, i been there, i'm on my ground,
I made it rain in every city, a thousand times,
You work hard to get paid, that's what it is,
Bentleys and green leaves that's how i live
In the back vip, that's where you'll see me,
im spitting with the homies, im sipping hennessy,
Let the haters talk, you aint at my level,
I'm rolling Continental, never sentimental,
Get it, get it,
Bounce, bounce
Shake, shake,
Get money, get paid
We fucking own this city all night
I learned it at a young age gotta get money get paid, lets get drunk tonight
Ladies in the club, come get down with us, lets get drunk tonight
Get it, get it,
Bounce, bounce
Shake, shake,
Get money, get paid
We fucking run this city all night
Up at the party, all these girls see me,
I cant help it when they screaming wastey,
I'm a get that paper girl, i'm a stay high,
Party every night, till the day i die,
I'm a be a king baby, you can be my queen,
Just know its for one night, that's all we need,
Wastey wastey whiskeyhands bitch,
The Architechhh, and Dr. Craig,
Smoking up your trees, put your fucking drinks up and lets get this party rolling
Still aint a game bitch

I sighed and took off my headset, normally I'd be super excited to record a new single, but today I'm not really feeling it. I'm still a little bummed that Erika broke up with me last week for that guy she met online. I'd rather be curled up on the couch, drowning my emotions in movies or a good book right now, but hey, gotta pay the bills.

I find it funny that my rapper alias is 'Mikey Whiskyhands,' alcoholic, manwhore, when in reality, that isn't me at all. I drink on occasion, but hardly ever get stupid drunk, and I've only had sex with three different people, two of which I was in a committed relationship with at the time. Whiskyhands might be the ultimate badass, but me, I'm just plain Mike.

I sighed again, thinking about past relationships, thinking about Erika. We were together for a long time, five whole years. She's pretty similar to me actually, fucked up past, family on the other side of the country, mental issues, the list goes on. When we met, we both need stability, we both needed to be put back together. We were the best of friends for about a year before a drunken make out session changed everything. Afterwards, she wanted to be more, and I agreed because I still needed her.

I never really felt butterflies with her though, and the passion seemed to one sided, her side. But, I needed her to keep me sane in the first few years of knowing her. I assumed that mature love was less about fun and more about needs. That, after a scar or two, you looked less for your other half, and more for someone to keep you together, which she did. Even though I don't need the mental stability so much anymore, I'm still going to miss her company.

"Ok Mike," my manager, Edward said, "That's the last track for today, you can head home."

"Awesome," I replied into the mic before walking out of the sound booth.

"So a bunch of us are going to the club tonight, you in?" my producer and best friend, Ralph asked. Unfortunate name, I know.

I considered it for a moment, but decided against it. I hate clubs, too many people, too many bad memories. The first month I lived here, I visited a club, had a panic attack and had to go to the hospital... I don't really mix well with clubs... Plus, I have a hot date with Netflix already planned for tonight.

"Count me out," I answered, "So not in the mood..."

"Are you still bummed about Erika?" he asked, "I guess it makes sense though, you were together for along time..."

"The thing is," I said, "I'm not that bummed. Like, it sucks, yeah, I've known her since I moved here. But at the same time, I feel like our relationship never really had that special spark, you know what I'm talking about? I'm going to miss her friendship for sure though..."

"I understand I think," he responded, "You were comparing it to past relationships, which were possibly better, or more pleasing, and it just wasn't adding up."

"I guess you're right..." I said, contemplating his words, "I never really wanted a relationship with her, but I needed her anyways, I was so fucked up when we met, and she helped me..."

"I see now," he said, "You didn't want to hurt her and make your friendship awkward so you went along with it..."

"Exactly!" I exclaim, he's 100% right.

"Ok, but I really have to go," he said, grabbing his bag from the desk, "Talk to you later man!"

"Bye Ralph!" I call as he walks out of the room.

I linger for a few more minutes, not really wanting to go home. My apartment looks so empty without Erika's stuff, almost ominous. I really need to do some redecorating... When I finally did leave, I took my time walking out to my car.

Once I got in and put the key in the ignition, a song filled the speakers from the radio that I left on;

You told me think about it, well I did
Now I don't wanna feel a thing anymore
We are the shadows screaming, 'take us now'
We'd rather die than live to rust on the ground
Shit!

"And that was 'King For a Day,'" the radio announcer said, "A new single by the post hardcore group, Pierce the Veil. I'm currently on the phone with lead singer, Vic Fuentes, getting ready for the interview I know you've all been waiting for!"

I turned off the radio and started driving before I could hear anymore. Yes, I've listened to a majority of Pierce the Veil's music, but I can't stand to watch interviews, or music videos, or even listen to something from them other than music. I can't stand seeing their faces, it makes me sad still, I'm never going to get over the lose of three important people. Thinking back on those times, I was right to leave. I'm so much better now, I'm not so much of a mental travesty anymore. But, there will always be a whole in my heart for those three.

By the time I stopped thinking about the past, I noticed I was home. Good thing I'm so autotuned to drive here automatically, or zoning out like I just did could be problematic...

Getting out of the car, I decided to check my mail before heading to my apartment. I walk over to the mailboxes and retrieve a rather large stack of mail, before walking towards the stairs. I flip through the stack as I walk. Junk, junk, bill, junk, magazine, bill, oh, what's this? I examine an ivory envelope, addressed to Michael Christopher Fuentes. The fact that whoever sent this used my full name intrigued me, enough to open the envelope before finishing up my ascent.

I flip the envelope over and break through the golden sticker seal. I take out the contents and study the piece of paper. Two pairs of very familiar eyes stared into mine;

You're invited to witness and celebrate the marriage of Jaime Alberto Preciado and Victor Vincent Fuentes!

Notes

Ok, yes this is shorter than I expected... But I have a good reason. I got injured today at cheer camp, and I'm really uncomfortable sitting in one position for a long time, so writing this took so much longer than it should have. But I said it'd be up tonight so here it is! :D

And I also spent like an hour laughing at the Whiskyhands lyrics... I just can't take Mike seriously as a rapper...

Tell me what you think pwetty pwease!

Title Cred: Jaime Preciado