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..MIkaela (18) I obsess over flawless people and I cry over bands..

Happy 20th Birthday, Nath!

#WantedWednesday ~Here Come The Guns!! +

Everything we used to be is gone, gone, gone…

Let’s talk about your single “Standing in the Dark”…+

So how do you feel, you had the chance to meet your thai fans and it’s your first time here…+

So how do feel about your first gig in Thailand? +

H Music Present LAWSON +

Inspired by Bullseye

When he was sure he had driven to a safe distance, he spun the car around and parked, climbing out to watch the destruction of the place he used to call home. As the flames rose higher, licking everything in its path, so the flames rose up within Jay, the shock and disbelief slowly burning away to pure, unadulterated rage.

She blew up his house. She nearly killed him. He was impressed. An attempt on his life clearly told him she’d thrown down a gauntlet. But Lily had picked with the wrong agent to fuck with. This wasn’t about honoring The Code anymore. It was more than that now. Now, only one thing ran through Jay McGuiness’ mind:

War.

————-

Jasmine’s eyebrows nearly reached her hairline as she took in Lily’s disheveled appearance. “Lily…what the hell happened?” asked the redhead.

“He attacked me,” Lily whispered calmly, dispassionately, striding into Jasmine’s house. The shock of what had happened at Jay’s flat had melted into numbness. “He fucking attacked me.”

The Australian’s shoulder’s sagged. “Lil…I’m sorry.”

“Oh, no. He’ll be the one that’s sorry.” Lily looked over at her redheaded friend, her silver gaze hard as stone. Emotional. Impassioned. Clamoring for blood.

The blood of Jay McGuiness.

Inspired by Bullseye

At first there was nothing but cold, deathly silence. Then, out of the shadows, a heavy boot appeared, then another. a tall, hooded, intimidating figure emerging. The tourist’s eyes bulged, paralyzed by terror. It was just like that night of the Mardi Gras parade in Louisiana all over again. It was him again; from the shadows, just like that night. The tourist trembled violently. He had escaped before, but this time he knew he would not be so lucky. Nemesis had truly caught up with him.

The hooded man slowly approached the tourist and crouched in front of him. He still could not see his face. The drugs in his drink were now starting to work. But still, the tourist knew he couldn’t have run if he was a hundred times sober.

“Please don’t kill me,” he begged, his words slurring and his eyes starting to give up on him. “I’ll be a better person from now on, I swear! I’ll start paying my taxes! Hell, I’ll even start attending church again. I’ll-“

Without warning, his eyes drifted closed and his head lolled to the side, the sleeping pills finally knocking him out. The hooded man regarded him for a moment or two, then stood upright and walked out of the warehouse. As he exited, he lit a match and dropped it. It caught a thin line of fuel, rapidly retracing its origin. Emerging into the cool night air, the hooded man mounted his motorcycle. The warehouse exploded, forming a huge mushroom cloud behind him. Glass and debris flew everywhere, but he did not flinch. He rode off down the road, disappearing into the night.

Mission accomplished.

THEME