stone cold {gallavich}

chapter one

a crack between the curtains is enough to wake up ian gallagher from his sleep. he opens his eyes to the sunrise blinding hin, and gets up letting a groan escape from his slightly opened mouth as he stretches.

his new victim of a one-nightstand-one-time-love had invited ian to stay the night. the apartment smelled of fresh paint and lonely rooms. the kind that stood all alone waiting to be occupied, but never were for a long time.

the tiles on his floor, most likely freshly applied, were cold as his bare feet touched the bare ground, which sent a shiver down ian's spine.

he doesn't bother brushing his teeth before heading out to start the coffee machine.

"no coffee while on your meds," he'd hear a million times back at his house with his family.

although coffee didn't really effect ian's health while taking the medication he was prescribed, he couldn't help but feel a bit guilty while taking his dose with a hot cup of espresso.

he unwraps a granola bar and takes a bite out of it, but he's interrupted by a phone call.

picking it up, he takes another bite. "what's up?" he greets casually with a mouth full of granola.

"i hope you know you are going to school today, right?" his eldest sister fiona warns. "you'll never hear the end of it if—"
ian hangs up the phone and rolls his eyes.

he didn't feel the motivation to go back to school after what happened with his bipolar episode. he never really enjoyed bringing it up, but there was a lot of screaming, throwing, and drugs going on.

he changes into a shirt and pulls on some jeans. he slips on his boots, covers himself with a coat, and grabs his backpack from the dresser. "see ya," he whispers to his middle aged temporary lover.

ian's only sixteen years old, but that didn't stop him from sleeping with men for money. in fact, he enjoyed give a blow or two for a couple of hundreds.

theres no way any southie could pull off real work, making real money, he'd tell himself repeatedly, trying to convince himself.

even though that was anything but true, ian refused to believe he could be something greater.

he walks a few blocks to reach his high school and sighs at the most hideous sight: the school itself.

"hey ian," his best friend, mandy milkovich greets. mandy was basically the younger version of a trashy street prostitute, but had a big of charm and dignity left in her.

she smiles with a cheesy mouthful of teeth which makes ian join her to smile as well.

"hey mandy. well, we are officially juniors," ian says casually with not a tone of excitement. mandy grabs his arm and walks him through the school.

as they walk through the hallways of whispering, staring, teenagers, mandy feels ian tighten his grip on her arm for support.

he couldn't help but feel a wreck of nerves hit him like a bus.

"just ignore them," mandy says putting a great amount of effort in tying to reassure ian that everything was going to be alright.

"what the fuck are you assholes looking at, read a fucking book, it's fucking school!" mandy yells at the burning eyes.

it wasn't just ian they were scared of, it was mandy. she's been screwed by almost every guy in school, has almost no chance of any future, and looks like she'll bite you if you had eye contact.

but she was a sweetheart, and ian appreciated all the sticking up she did for him.

"this is my stop, thanks a lot," ian smiles. mandy raises an eyebrow and grins. "you'll do fine."

ian steps into the classroom and noticed nobody is inside. "chemistry?" he asks the lonesome teacher sitting on his desk.

"ah! yes! finally, someone bothers to show up! my name is mr. galveston, take a seat anywhere."

ian gives a nervous smile and sits in the back of the class, waiting for the rest of the students to come.

about thirty minutes later, a few students arrive, immediately spot ian, and decide to sit as far away from him as possible.

nerves begin to grow once more as the class finally fills up, more whispers, more eyes, more nerves.

"alright, settle down!" the teacher commands. and that was that.

that was first period of chemistry. the eyes never stopped, the teacher never quit yelling; ian's attention span weakened and weakened as the distractions became too heavy.

and then it was lunchtime.

he grabs his tray and sits in a spot with mandy and her group of hookers.

he felt multiple tater tots flung onto his back, but he ignored them anyways. when the lunch period was over, he threw out his plate and went outside.

he takes a deep breath of the cold november air and exhales shakily.

he feels a hand touch his shoulder, and then a fist touch his cheek.

oh's and ooh's fill the outdoor air and ian falls to the ground. with the one punch, his head goes spinning into some kind of tunnel vision.

"welcome back, you fucking psycho!" a guy's voice yells.

a kick to the stomach sends ian yelling. he curls up into a ball, clenching his stomach. feeling a throbbing sensation on his stomach and a drip fall down his lip, he agonizingly yells out for help.

another few punches to his face.

"hey, what the fuck!" a voice yells from above. ian doesn't bother opening his eyes, because he didn't have the motivation to withstand the pain.

he hears another punch, but not on him this time. he hears kicks and hits, and yells and cries. he opens his eyes painfully to see a guy fighting ian's attacker.

his hair is dark, messed up and spiked; his skin pale from the cold air. his eyes so harsh, but lips so gentle. ian watches as he keeps punching over and over again.

the boy looks at ian and raises an eyebrow. "that enough for you?"

ian nods slowly and soon enough, his head falls back. he doesn't care who sees anymore, but ian is knocked out and unconscious in front of half the school.

***