west hills [muke af]

trente et un

trente et un

unedited

"Where did you even get these?!" Luke's mother yelled as she held up the thin slabs of acid.

He shook his head, making the everlasting headache worse. "I don't know, I just found them."

"You just find five dollars in your pocket, you don't just find a deadly drug in your pockets!" His father yelled, as well. Mr. Hemmings was usually neutral on everything, he simply didn't want to get involved. He did what needed to be done, but continued to pretend everything was okay.

"It happened!" Luke looked up at his parents, his eyes still holding a red around the blue. "I'm sorry! I wasn't thinking!"

His mother sat down across from him, resting her hands in her hair as she took a deep breath. "We don't know what to do with you, Luke. We send you to therapy, we've sent you to rehab. What more is there to do?"

"You might hurt yourself or someone else," his father added, "We really care about you."

Luke shook his head from left to right as tears started to fall from his eyes. "You don't!" He yelled, "Stop lying to yourselves for five fucking minutes and accept that you don't care about me!" He stood up, the wooden chair below him scratching against the stone floors. "I can't be in this house anymore!"

Luke's feet took him through their living room, around their kitchen, up the back stairs, and straight to his room. He hid in his closet, covering himself with layers of clothes and between two boxes.

He started to sob uncontrollably, not understanding why he didn't feel loved nor cared for anymore. He remembers holding hands with his parents as they swung him back and forth when he was younger, he remembers going out to ice cream and night time drives, he remembers smiling up at them and wishing to be just like them one day.

The sixteen-year-old doesn't know when everything changed. He doesn't know if it was his fault, but he sure feels like it is.

He rubbed his eyes with his palms as his body shook with pain. He bit down on the sleeve of a shirt hanging above him, trying to man up and accept that this is his life. Fuck gender roles, though, he's allowed to cry.

Luke took out his phone, knowing only one way to cope with such pain. He never used to call people, he used to fear the phone and having to actually socialize over a cellphone. It made him nervous and anxious, but calling Michael was different.

"Did your parents find out?" Michael asked right away.

Luke cried a sob, letting Mike know that yes, they did. "I'm a monster," he stammered, "I'm a killer."

Michael stood up from his seat at the counter, signaling for a coworker to take his spot. "Give me a minute, Baby." He took off his smock, placing his snapback over his greasy hair. He trotted out the back door, leaning against the brick wall of his parent's pizza shop. "Okay, I'm here again."

"T—They found out and went ballistic, Michael. I killed my best friend and here I am trying to kill myself."

Michael furrowed his eyebrows with sadness. "That's not true, Love. Bad things happen, and they just keep happening to you."

"How can you love someone like me?" Luke leant down, pressing his forehead to his bent knees. He felt so weak, so vulnerable.

"You know what, Luke? I never really understood love, honestly. It's weird. Like, I can fall for one person—you—and you'll change my life for the better. I didn't understand what love was supposed to feel like until you came into my life.

"It's something about you. I don't know, maybe it's the way your eyes are bright and gleaming with life. Or maybe it's the way your smile can make dead flowers grow and bring joy to lonely souls. You're able to radiate pure happiness despite what life keeps throwing at you."

Luke let out another cry as he listened to Michael's words so intently. He rocked back and forth, curling himself closer into a ball.

"Something about you changed my life, Luke. I don't know exactly what it is, I might never know what it is. All I do know is that I feel something whenever I think of you, see you, or hear you, and I'm pretty sure it's love. If a loner like me is able to love you, then I think lots more are, too."

Luke's bottom lip quivered at the endearing words. "Fuck, Mike. I fucking love you."

Michael smiled. "I love you, Luke. I promised you that good things will come, and I'm keeping that promise. Good things will come."