Met a Boy at Seventeen (Kellic)

Prologue

A/N: New story, guys! This may have a few darker subjects/scenes, and it will also have smut (and quite a bit of violence, too). But also fluff. Plot twist: KELLIN IS DOMINANT.

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Prologue - Kellin

On the day that I decided to kiss Vic Fuentes, I saw a guy get stabbed in the chest.

This was not as big a deal to me as it probably should’ve been. But it’s a relatively common occurrence in the city, where I live, and that was not the first time I’d witnessed murder. The first time was before my family even moved to the city, when I was seven years old and the mailman got shot right outside of our house as he was dropping off a package. (I’ve never been able to figure that one out. Who’s gonna deliver the mail if you shoot the mailman? What did he even do? He was just a mailman.)

But I’m not going to talk about the mailman right now. I’m going to talk about the guy I watched get stabbed in the chest.

I was walking to school when it happened—what a great way to start the day. I kind of feel like I caused it, because when I woke up that morning, the first thing I said to my friend Justin was, “It’s a beautiful day to die.” And it was a pretty beautiful day…and someone did die. He died holding onto my hand like it was his only lifeline.

Afterward, I figured I’d better call an ambulance, even though I knew it was a lost cause. I’d seen the actual death. I’d seen the life leave him.

I am not talking about this as a means of therapy (though God knows I probably need it). I am talking about this in relation to Vic Fuentes.

Now, how do I describe Vic? He is the type of guy to, if he ever won the lottery, give it all away because he feels that other people deserve it more than he does. He is also the type of guy to pretend to speak a different language just to avoid talking to someone. He is cautious in a way I could never hope to be, and he is quite possibly the most genuine person I’ve ever met.

Vic probably doesn’t seem like he has anything to do with the guy who got stabbed. But, see, let me explain. When I saw that guy die, it made me realize something: Life is too short, and it’s especially too short to wait. I could have all the time in the world, or I could have only today. Someone could kill me just as easily as they killed that guy—maybe even easier, since I have a tendency to piss people off. And then I’d be just another person who wished they’d tried for what they wanted.

This is where things start making sense, because what I wanted was Vic. That fact—the fact that I’m attracted to males—caused me meaningless angst for the longest time, until one night I had a dream. In this dream I was standing in front of a mirror, and my reflection looked me right in the eyes and said, “Kellin, you’re gay. Now get on with your life.” Nonetheless, I woke up feeling more enlightened and self-confident than I had in about three years.

So after I realized that I couldn’t afford to waste any more time, I did it. I kissed Vic. I didn’t care whether he’d kiss me back or push me away and scream bloody murder. I kissed him because that was what I wanted to do, and I’d deal with the consequences when I had to.

And what were the consequences, direct and indirect? What, exactly, could happen as the result of a kiss?

Well…a lot of things.