Everything Changed on a Tuesday (BoyxBoy)

Chapter Six: To Be Honest, My Life Sucks.

Here's another glorious chapter, I really hope you enjoy reading it as much as I do writing it. Wells, read on.

Kitten Marie out.
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Chapter Six: To Be Honest, My Life Sucks.

Sean's P.O.V

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RECAP

Everything about him is deep and thoughtful. He not only shows his country side, but also his fluffy, emo alter ego. A few years earlier, he posted a picture of his cut up wrist dripping onto a pair of broken spurs.

He posted a status as to why he did it, and what he was thinking after it happened. It made me so sad to think that he had to go through all of that alone.

Even though I'd never seen his face, I always thought that in a way he was just like me. Trying to make it through this life as best as we could. I fancied myself in love with the faceless marvel, but now I know who he is.

As I brought his scarred wrist to my lips in a gentle kiss, I couldn't help but think, 'yet....nothing has changed.'
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"What exactly do you do when you're behind the computer screen?" I asked, genuine curiosity taking over me.

Surely his life isn't that boring that he has to spend every waking moment on the computer. Of course I'm not really one to talk, but that's beside the point.

We were now sat back in his room, having come back upstairs after a few minutes of awkward floor hugging. We were laying atop his blankets, my head is in his lap, and his long fingers are running through my hair. How we ended up in this position I have no idea, but I can't say I'm complaining.

"Well, it's actually quite a long story...." He trailed off, glancing down at me with a look I couldn't decipher.

"In case you haven't noticed, I'm a very good listener, and I just so happen to have the rest of the day off. We can talk all day and night, that is unless you don't have anywhere to be?" I mumbled, dreading his response.

The thought of me having to leave his warm bed, surprisingly, caused me distress. I don't understand anything anymore, we just met.

"No, I'm free for the rest of the night. My parents won't be back until, hmm....next week? I think that's right." He seemed to be asking me, rather than thinking out loud.

"What do you mean, you think?" I asked, sitting up so I could look at him better.

"I mean, I think, as in I don't know when they'll be back." He hung his head low, a bashful look spreading across his reddening cheeks.

"Oh," was all I could say, what else could I say?

"That's part of the reason I started doing this, the whole tumblr. thing I mean." He whispered, still avoiding my watchful gaze.

"I'm lucky if I see my so-called 'parents' at least once over the span of a month. They hardly even know I exist, let alone know who comes over or not. When I was fifteen, I used to think they weren't real, I believed that they were just a figment of my imagination when I was a kid. If it hadn't been for the constant replenishing of the food in the kitchen cabinets, a call from my mom every other weekend, and the steady flow of guilt money that's thrown into my bank account, I'd have sworn the house birthed me to life.

"I used to tell myself that the creaking floors decided to creak really loud one day, getting louder and louder until the particles in the air formed into DNA strands, and merged with some oxygen alleles, then boom! I was created. I used to tell myself that I was created, not born. As sad as it is to say this, I felt like it was true, sometimes I still think it is.

"When I start to feel really low, I go to my laptop for comfort. No one on that website knows who I am, so they can't hurt me in person. Whatever they say about me alone means nothing because they don't know me and I don't know them. In a way, it's kind of a sick relief from the pain of being alone."

There was a long pause as he tried to catch his breath, leveling his breathing as if to ease his heart rate. He took deep breaths in through his nostrils, and through his mouth, taking up a slow, calming rhythm.

"They've never really been here for me, not even when I was a little boy who didn't know what it meant to be gay. I've come to terms with it, I'm 17 now, I can handle myself. This is just how it has to be for me, I know that, but it still hurts when they come home and pretend nothing's happened between us. Like they didn't leave me for half a year every year here by myself while my mom was off in the Bahamas screwing around with the pool guy, and my dad wasn't 'in his office' having an affair with his personal assistant. I don't think I'll ever understand why my family is this way.

"They've gotten worse, you know." He stated, more than asked.

"How so?" I asked, unsure of how I was supposed to answer him.

I wanted to take him into my arms and hold him against my chest, but I'm not sure how he would take that kind of affection coming from a boy rather than a girl.

"They hardly ever come back now. I'm honestly just waiting for the day when they never come back and I can finally be free. They only visit, as I like to say, twice every year for Christmas and for Thanksgiving. Other than that I don't even get a postcard in the mail." He whispered, turning so he was facing away from me.

"What happened? Did they just decide you weren't....?" I trailed off, but he seemed to catch my drift, as his shoulders began to shake with a bitter laugh.

"I finally came out to them. We had been arguing about why I never brought girls home for them to meet, and how my mom has just been dying for some grandchildren. Never mind the fact that I'm just 17, they treat me like I'm 32. I told them I didn't want kids right now, I'm getting ready to graduate in a few months, and the last thing I need is for some broad to ruin my life.

"My mom kept pushing the issue, begging and screaming at me to bring a girl home, any girl. She acted like she wanted me to just pick up a random girl off the street, take her to bed, and then propose to her once she pregnant. She was making me really mad, so I just blurted out, "you can't even take care of your own son, how are you going to be able to help take care of grandchildren." She opened her mouth to speak again, but I cut her off, yelling, "I don't even know if I want to adopt yet, I'm barely 17 years old. Do they even let gay guys like me adopt even though I'm not in a relationship with anyone?" To say she was disgusted would be an understatement.

"You should've seen the look on her bony face. It was scrunched up in an ugly grimace of surprise, disgust, and resentment. I didn't even know people could have all those expressions formed into a single look. Her mouth kept opening and closing like a fish's, her who entire body turned as pale as that of the color of Vitamin D milk. I was tempted to take a picture, but she fainted right as I took my phone out."

By then he was emitting a sad, watery chuckle, and I could see his shoulders beginning to spasm for a different reason.

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A/N: I'm really sorry this is so short, but this is all I could manage to write in the span of the thirty minutes I'd had at the library. Welps, I really hope you enjoyed it, and I'll try my best to update a much longer chapter next time. I promise, it'll be worth the wait. ;) Wellz, until next time my lovely Emo Paradoxes.e

Kitten Marie out.