𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋 || 𝐁𝐍𝐇𝐀

6. To Tipn't Or Not To Tipn't, That Is The Question

They did promise to take pictures though, so that was chill.

Hikaru, on the other hand, was getting thoroughly chewed out by his manager.

"What the hell were you thinking, huh? Inviting those other kids over to your photoshoot party so casually?! And this Saturday, no less! That's the day after tomorrow!" Hiroto scolded him, shaking him by his shoulders roughly back and forth.

"Hirotoooooo, stop shaking me, if you injure my face, I'm done for!" he whined. Hiroto growled, muttering under his breath about how he was going to die early because of his annoying nephew.

The brown haired man groaned, massaging his temples tiredly.

"Whatever. They already know the time and address, so there's no stopping them now. Your 'friends' can join the party, as long as they don't bother anyone. Don't be stupid, there's gonna be a ton of other famous actors and models there too."

Hikaru mock saluted the brown haired man, with a curt "Yes, sir!", before skrrting up to his room.

His phone, sitting on his bed stand, was blowing up, the screen lighting up literally every 3 seconds. Confused, he went grabbed it.

Unsurprisingly, they were all from class juan-aye. Hikaru sighed, flopping face-first onto his bed.

Oh, what the hell. There was no point in crying over spilled milk, right? Besides, what's the worst that could happen? Wait no, don't say that. Jinxes are not allowed in this Christian household, he mentally chided himself.

Hikaru felt the day catching up to him, exhaustion sweeping over him in a wave. His "hangover" (courtesy of Bluebull and coffee) was starting to become a pain in the ass. Staring up at the ceiling, he finally succumbed to the comforting lull of sleep.

~~➼➼~~

"Did you hear that? Hikaru wants to be an actor!"

Peals of laughter filled the air, all directed at the ravenette on his knees, salty drops of liquid darkening the concrete below. 

Plip, plop.

"An actor? With that girly face of his?"

More water spilled down, this time from above the boy. Hikaru raised his head, glancing towards the canteen poised above his head, a small stream still running down his face.

The boy standing above him sneered, face twisting.

"Who said you could look up, huh?" he demanded. A deafening slap rang out, as Hikaru's face was harshly whipped to the side. His cheek was bright red, blood starting to drip from his nose.

Plip, plop.

"Hey, he looks just like a dog right now. Maybe you can be the leading mutt in a film, Hikaru!"

More laughter filled the air, everyone pointing and whispering how pitiful the boy was.

"Hey, Hikaru. I hear your family is as poor as dirt right now. Don't dogs eat anything? Well then, eat up!"

With a sickening "plunk", what once could've been a beautifully arranged meal was in disarray before him. Hikaru stared at it in horror. Grains of rice were dumped before him, mixing in with the loose bits of concrete. The fried chicken was lying beside it, milk and miso soup finishing up the horrendous meal. And if that wasn't bad enough, you couldn't forget the drops of blood under it all.

"What are you waiting for, huh? You don't like it? Come one, I'm doing you a favor, donating my food to a nobody like you." the boy haughtily, harshly stomping into the pile. He raised his foot, the liquids seeping off the bottom of his shoe.

Plip, plop.

Before Hikaru could even open his mouth to protest, someone kicked the back of his head, shoving his face down onto the heap before him. His azure eyes widened in pure fear as a scream built in his throat. But his voice didn't come out, his mouth forced upon the disgusting mound. His taste buds screamed in protest, begging to die. He frantically tried pushing himself up, but the foot on the back of his head stayed firm.

"Look at him! Eating off the ground like that! He really is a dog, isn't he?"

I can't breathe. Please, save me. Help me, someone, anyone! Isn't there anyone? Hikaru thought, desperately begging for it to stop.

But no one helped, and it didn't stop. Tears dripped from his eyes, the hard, rough ground millimeters away from his face.

Plip, plop.

He was finally released after some torturous minutes, completely out of breath and drowning in despair.

Coughing, hacking, choking, the other students started to leave, the "show" seemingly over.

They sneered one last time at Hikaru, spitting at the ground where he lay.

Trying to get the awful taste out of his mouth, Hikaru clawed at his tongue until it was numb. He tasted something metallic, before he realized that it, too, was now bleeding.

Hikaru felt something rising in his throat. He tried swallowing it down like he always did, but to no avail. It rose and rose, getting higher and higher, before vomit shot itself out of his mouth. He retched uncontrollably onto the ground, forgetting how to breathe. The rancid taste filled his mouth, the smell covering the courtyard. Sweat gathered onto his brow, sliding off his face as he spasmed.

Plip, plop.

~~➼➼~~

Hikaru shot up, the blankets tangled between his legs from thrashing and kicking in his sleep. His chest heaved as he gasped for air. He closed his eyes, running a hand through his hair.

He sat there for a couple minutes trying to regain his bearings. It'd been so long since he's had that dream that he completely forgot about it. After calming down slightly, he laid back onto the bed trying to fall asleep again. But even as an hour passed, Hikaru was still wide awake and staring at the wall.

"This is no good." he groaned, before sitting back up. He swung his legs over the bed and headed downstairs to go get water.

He reached the living room, not bothering to flick on the lights. He already practically memorized the layout anyways.

Hikaru walked towards the kitchen, completely chill, before he heard a faint crackling and froze.

What the hell was that?

He tiptoed towards the kitchen, where the sound came from, grabbing the bat that Kuro used to play baseball with. It still had that dent at the top from the time Hiroto yote it across the room at Hikaru when he was belting out the lyrics to the Russian National Anthem, but since the only thing he knew how to do in Russian was gasp and sigh, it just sounded like sAyOsTAaAAa rOShGmE sHOiTeReT PoRfgACVoR hAghEDi veNiROMnRe.

A faint light was glowing from behind the wall, right where the kitchen was. Hikaru's heart pounded in his chest as he neared the corner. He lunged, gripping the bat and saw-

"Hiroto?"

The brown haired man fell over from his squatting position crouched on the floor, scrambling to pick something up. The objects on the floor made a slight crinkling noise, a sweet smell wafting from them.

"Yo, Uncle, is that crack?" he asked, with a total "count me in" face.

"Wha- no! It's not crack, I'm not that fucking illegal yet." Hiroto yelled, the yet totally emphasized.

"Dam🅱️ , then what is it?"

"It's none of your business, brat. Go back to bed."

"😔 " the teen said, walking back upstairs where he watched HOW TO HIDE ANYTHING || 28 CRAZY HACKS THAT ACTUALLY WORK™️ until he fell asleep.