The Bad Bad World [Klance AU] [DISCONTINUED]

Two

Keith wakes up late Saturday morning, having no sense of time due to the lack of a window in his tiny bedroom. With that said, it comes as a surprise to him when he checks his phone to see that it's past noon. Not only that, but he got two missed calls from his mom and one from his dad. He sighs. He'll have to fix that later.
For now, Keith hops out of bed after a long stretch and heads to his little kitchen corner to pour a bowl of cereal. The Mini Wheats and milk slosh around as he sits on his couch in front of the television, reaching over to turn it on. The news channel springs to life, banners in every corner of the screen displaying different headlines. A man in a thick suit speaks hurriedly, catching Keith's attention as he inhales his breakfast.
"Last night, a man was caught robbing a liquor store. Here, we have footage submitted to the police of the suspect carrying what looks to be a bottle of vodka in hand as he jumps a fence." The described video plays beside the speaker's face. "Thanks to witnesses interviewed this morning, police were able to identify the robber as nineteen year old Lance McClain."
The program cuts to an interview on the street just by Keith's workplace. He looks closely at the screen. "Lex...?" he mutters in disbelief. Standing beside his coworker is their boss as well. It's Samantha, the busty black haired manager. She rarely ever makes an appearance.
An out-of-view interviewer begins bombarding them with questions. "How did you become familiar with Mr. McClain?"
"Um, he kept coming to our store, the Center Grocery. He kept asking to purchase our alcohol, but, um..." Lex starts with confidence admirable for someone who is suddenly being broadcast on the news, but Keith can see him fiddling with his fingers nervously. Apparently Samantha can, too.
"This boy here, my employee, reported to me, sayin' that this guy kept yelling at him about buying booze and cigarettes. He wouldn't show any sort of identification, though. 'Parently, he's been bothering our other employee, too," Samantha cuts in, showing off her thick Jersey accent.
Keith zones out for a moment, the noise from the television fading. Wait a tick...They're talking about that Latino, the one who came running down the street with what looked like tears in his eyes, the one that shoved Keith on to the road, the one that kept using his name like they were best friends. That's this Lance McClain. For some weird reason, Keith almost feels disappointed in this guy he's never really met.
The television program returns to the white collared news reporter, catching Keith's attention once more. "Though the suspect has been identified, none have been able to catch him. Police are still on the lookout. Please, if you see suspect Lance McClain, report it immediately." That's all Keith needs to hear. He shuts the TV off, drops his bowl into the sink, and gets ready for the day. He's heading out.  After a quick shower, Keith ties his wet hair into a ponytail and dashes for the door, leaving his phone forgotten on the couch.
     Keith soon finds himself in the neighborhood he had been in at the beginning of the week.  It looks different in the daylight, conformed to the usual gray buildings of the city without the unique golden street lamps to light the paths.  Of course, they're still standing, but they don't look as magical when exposed as black metal poles with chipping paint.  Keith walks cautiously along the sidewalk, a little unsure of what his whole plan is in the first place.  Is he expecting Lance to come running into him just as he had before?  Even if that happens, what does Keith want to do?  Turn him in?  Well, of course.  That should be obvious.  But for some reason, it isn't.
Keith is stopped in his tracks when he hears soft sobbing. He follows the sound into an alleyway. Keith knows it's a bad idea, but he can't help but be curious. He presses his back to the corner of the wall, looking cautiously into the alley.
There he is. Hidden slightly by light shadows is Lance McClain, his strange Latino. Lance takes a swig of the last drop of what Keith can only assume is the stolen bottle of vodka. Lance rubs his eyes on the sleeve of his green jacket. "Odio mi vida, odio a este mundo asqueroso, y este dios maldito alcohol ni siquiera fue digno de todo este problema!" he screeches up at the sky. Keith can't tell if the alcohol slurred his words, or if he's just talking that fast. Lance looks directly at Keith, making him jump. "Usted! Ir al infierno! No tengo tiempo para la policía!"
"Um," Keith starts, unsure of how to respond. He steps out from behind the wall and just a little closer to Lance. "You can speak English, right?"
In reflex, Lance grabs the glass bottle beside him as some sort of form of defense. "Yeah, but it's not like I need you to listen to me." There was a pause, and then an angry huff. "It was you who reported me, wasn't it?!"
"What? No, that was-" Keith stops himself, realizing he had gotten all defensive. He shouldn't be the one defending himself. "It doesn't matter! You still did something wrong! I'm going to have to call the police on you!"
In a flash, Lance smashed the glass bottle in his hand on the pavement of the road, busting open the end of it and creating a sharp weapon that lands immediately at Keith's throat. "What'd I tell you? I don't have time to deal with the police!"
Keith briefly wonders if Lance really had said that, or whether maybe it was one of the many things he had yelled in Spanish. His mind quickly moves on to more important things, though. Keith's body freezes up in complete shock and fear, nothing like his speedy and unorganized thoughts. He wants to reach up and try to push Lance away from where the glass pricks at his throat, but it's as if his hand is paralyzed with the lack of courage. Keith isn't sure if Lance has got something more than just stealing on his record, but he certainly doesn't want to wait and find out. Keith somehow finds it in him to allow his hand to float to his back pocket, only to realize he left his phone at his apartment. He gulps in further panic.
Lance tenses up in fear for himself, causing the broken glass of the bottle to break Keith's skin. Blood starts beading up around the edges. Keith's breath hitches. Lance's eyes widen. "Mierda!" Lance backs up immediately. "First stealing, and now this! Now you're definitely going to call the police on me. Forget it, I deserve it. Just put an end to this mess!"
Keith doesn't move an inch, back still pressed up against the wall behind him. He doesn't even seem to breath. Keith realizes he started crying. What a baby. He bites the inside of his cheek.
Lance looks quickly at Keith, then back down, then back up again in shock. "Hey, wait a minute, you're crying!" He groans. "Of course you're crying! I could have just murdered you! Um, um, let me take you back to my apartment. I can give you some band aids or something. Mami and Papi will probably be too busy fighting to notice us..." Lance starts muttering to himself again, unaware of the absurd look Keith is giving him. Of course he's not going to follow Lance back into his apartment! Keith watches Lance carefully, and as sure as he's certain Lance isn't looking, Keith makes a run for it. "Hey, Keith, wait!" That's the first time Lance has said his name that day.

A/N: Here's a little quickie for you all. I hope you're enjoying! It's been kind of busy with high school and all. Big test today, so wish me luck. D; Here are your translations (which do have curses in it, so here's your warning)! Please let me know if I got anything wrong.

Odio mi vida, odio a este mundo asqueroso, y este dios maldito alcohol ni siquiera fue digno de todo este problema! = I hate my life, I hate this disgusting world, and this goddamn alcohol wasn't even worth all this trouble!

Usted! Ir al infierno! No tengo tiempo para la policía! = You! Go to hell! I don't have time for the police!

Mierda! = Shit!

Fun fact, I can say that in three different languages. Hoorah for education. Anyway, thanks for reading!