Two months of summer holiday finished both quickly and slowly. Days merged into each other but dragged with the petulant oppression of the sun. The heatwave cooked houses like ovens and, with the British's stubborn denial that summer was never hot, despite the sun's annual derision to the contrary, it was pretended air conditioning didn't exist. And for the most part, it didn't.
ㅤThe only salvation was the milk aisle in Liam's nearest local; a blessing marred by the ten-minute trek through hell to get there.
ㅤHis small electronic fan kept him from killing himself.
ㅤBecause of Liam's expulsion, his summer had been longer than usual. The endless time left with nothing to do but absently twiddle his thumbs. The news of what'd happened had reached the ears of friends from neighbouring schools and many decided to no longer associate with him. One group, from the school he'd been expelled from, had sent him an amusing essay over text, listing their problems with him, pretending as if they hadn't been there too, laughing whilst Liam assaulted that prick. They'd said he was a villain.
ㅤIf Liam was going to be a villain, then he damned better be the most evil one he could.
ㅤBut with little friends left, Liam needed to search for distractions elsewhere. He was naturally a fidgety person, but not out of anxiety. He was simply the kind of guy who'd become unable to sit still when left with nothing to do. At first, he'd been content with some clubbing but, going alone, it'd quickly become boring, and with each day he became more and more irritable.
ㅤThe only thing that would keep him busy enough was a job and he'd managed to get one at a small cafe a few minutes' walk away. He slaved as many hours into it as possible, despite his distaste for the public.
ㅤHe'd met Mia there, a girl only a year younger, working the till with him. They'd become friends almost immediately. She also despised the British public (they had so much in common). Her disgust towards rudeness always showed on her face, leading to situations that had Liam having to retreat to the back to laugh, lest he fainted from holding it in. They'd hung out, outside work, regularly over the summer weeks.
ㅤThe desk fan whirred a constant hum as Liam lain on his bed, starfishing to cool himself. Staring at the familiar grey smudge on his ceiling, he yawned.
ㅤ"Sorry to be such a bore," Mia said. She lounged on the sofa, her gaze fixed on her phone.
ㅤ"They can fix that these days. If you want a personality, you should ask to be sectioned."
ㅤShe shrugged. "It's probably because I reflect the people around me. I'll hang out with someone more interesting next time."
ㅤ"Quick," he hummed, approving.
ㅤShe snorted. "You definitely hear that a lot."
ㅤLiam sat up with a feigned scandalous expression, lips parted and eyes wide. Mia met his gaze, flicking her apple-red curls over her shoulder.
ㅤ"Don't tell me... You've seen the videos...?" His tone was grave.
ㅤMia struggled to keep a straight face whilst she pondered a suitable response. She opened her mouth to counter but any words were lost when she began to choke on her own laughter.
ㅤ"I—I'm sorry! You looked so serious!"
ㅤLiam was fond of Mia, their senses of humour surprisingly compatible. Normally, Liam found women took more effort to talk to; they had cryptic social cues he sometimes missed and expected things without asking for it. With Mia, however, her speech and intentions aligned.
ㅤAfter the laughter died, they soaked in the comfortable silence for a few minutes, on their phones. The peace was interrupted by Mia's grave realisation.
ㅤ"School starts tomorrow. I should do myself a favour and end it all now."
ㅤ"Check your WhatsApp. I'll pin a nice bridge you can jump off."
ㅤ"If I was going to die, I'd probably shoot myself," Mia mused. "But I'd have to go to America to buy a gun to do that."
ㅤ"Don't bother. Go to New York and they'll do it for you."
ㅤ"Not all Americans shoot people, you know. Toddlers aren't tall enough to reach the cases."
ㅤLiam shrugged, watching something on his screen. "Whatever."
ㅤ"Oh, shit," she said.
ㅤ"What?"
ㅤMia stood, shooting him a guilty look. "I have a date with my boyfriend today. Sorry. I completely forgot about it."
ㅤLiam walked with her out of the room and down the stairs. "It's fine," he assured her. "It happens."
ㅤAt the door, she pulled him in for a gentle hug. He did his best not to tense. After she released him, Liam gave her a gentle pat on the cheek and nudged her outside, knowing she would make a fuss about how bad she felt if he didn't shoo her away quickly.
ㅤ"I'll call you later," he told her with an easy smile.
ㅤShe smiled back at him, her eyes creasing. "I'll keep an ear out for it."
ㅤHe gave a small wave before the door clicked shut, leaving him standing in a deafening silence, very much alone.
====
Liam didn't sincerely believe that 'an eye for an eye' was practical or sensible. He had fond memories of his dad always following up the statement with "in the kingdom of the blind", and it was a concept he'd always fully accepted. What principles couldn't do, however, was dampen his hatred.
ㅤCharlie Bradley.
ㅤIf there was a devil on this Earth it was Charlie Bradley.
ㅤThoughts of that monster plagued Liam whilst he stared at the suit hanging on the knob of his wardrobe. Today was not only the first day back to school, but it was also his first day back in the presence of the most reprehensible deplorable man in the world. And today was the first day in his plan for revenge.
ㅤLiam wanted nothing more than to destroy Bradley's life, wanting to watch it catch fire and burn, just like his did. He wanted to be the one responsible for it.
ㅤUnfortunately, Liam's plan only contained one step; which he wrote as 'destroy evil bastard'. It didn't give him much in direction or organisation... or anything really for that matter.
ㅤHe changed and ran his hand down his face, noticing the scratchiness of slight stubble on his jaw. He clicked his tongue in annoyance for not shaving the evening before but was too lazy to do it then. As long as Liam had all four limbs, he was presentable enough for school—was what his mum used to say.
ㅤHe trudged downstairs, itching for a cup of tea. He would impale himself on the staircase banister without one.
ㅤ"Aaron, make me tea." He perched on one of the stools and dropped his head into his hands.
ㅤAaron was already pouring his own. "I'm not your fucking slave. Someone's still not a morning person, huh?"
ㅤ"Make me some right fucking now or I will actually kill you and tell all your friends about that one time in London when y—"
ㅤ"Okay! Holy shit. I'll do it. You're unbelievable."
ㅤAaron slammed the mug down in front of him, tea spilling onto the table. The sharp glare aimed Liam's way would've cut someone else. Liam stared after Aaron's leaving back with a devilish amusement bubbling up. He waited a few seconds before calling out to him again.
ㅤ"Aaron. Come back for one moment."
ㅤAaron suppressed his frustration and reluctantly returned, his teeth clenched.
ㅤ"What's the matter, brother dearest?"
ㅤ"This tea..." Liam said, pausing for a second, "it has sugar in it."
ㅤAaron gave him a straight look. "And, what?" Anger simmered just below the surface.
ㅤ"I don't have sugar in my tea."
ㅤIt turned out that bruises weren't actually a part of the school dress code.
ㅤIt would've been appropriate for Liam to feel annoyed at the red mark on his face, but a sick part of him wore it proudly. Even though Aaron could rile up easily, he rarely got physical. Aaron was no idiot, he knew he couldn't touch Liam without receiving what he gave twofold. That morning was the exception.
ㅤLiam walked to school. Whilst he drifted through the halls of the school that he used to call Hell, his chest tightened, the air thick. He ambled through the maze of corridors, slightly stunned but strangely ecstatic. He intuitively found himself at reception without thinking about it, as if memory of the layout had waited for this moment to be unfiled.
ㅤThis was it.
ㅤWith this, he will finally shed those heavy shackles dragging behind him and move on.
ㅤ"May I help you?"
ㅤThe receptionist typed a tempo of clack clack clack on her keyboard, her eyes glued to the screen and not sparing him a glance. Nervousness pricked him, carefully structuring his next sentence in his head. He recognised this woman. She'd been here when he was younger too. He coughed away his discomfort and began to speak.
ㅤ"Yeah, can you change the name on the register to my middle name instead?" He faked an ease of casualness.
ㅤThe woman finally looked up at him. Thankfully, she didn't seem to recognise him—he looked nothing like he'd used to.
ㅤ"Full name and reason to change, please?"
ㅤLiam grew uncomfortable as he wrecked his brain on how to answer both of the questions she had put forth.
ㅤ"... My surname is Barrett," was what he offered, after an awkward beat.
ㅤImmediate recognition. Liam winced, seeing it on the receptionist's face, her eyes widening. He rolled his shoulders back, trying to ease the tension knotting inside him. To his relief, she forced a smile and started typing.
ㅤ"Of course, Liam Barrett. I'll be sure to do that for you now."
ㅤLiam gave her a stiff nod of appreciation.
ㅤ"It's been nice seeing you again, Liam. Enjoy your day," she said with a pointed look. There was a hint of pity on her face. Liam had seen that look many times when he'd been here, and he'd hoped to have never seen it again.
ㅤHe gave her a murmured thanks before turning his back to find his form.