Warnings ⚠: Child Abuse, Rape, Violence, Religion, Drug Use, Alcohol Use, Use of Slurs, Homophobia, Bullying, Mention of Suicide, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicidal Actions, Gun Use
Damien P.O.V.
-Friday, August 27th-
He's late.
He told me he would meet me here after school.
I blew off Ethan and Hunter for this...
If they found out I was meeting with some nerd, it would be fucking horrible.
Well, it's after school, and he's not fucking here.
The little shit is hiding somewhere...
I curl my hands into fists and go back inside...
I find him, and to my surprise he didn't blow me off...
Well, at least he didn't on purpose.
I see Logan, and he's kicking him on the fucking floor.
Jesus Christ.
He's in the white sweater he was in yesterday, but it has an alarming amount of blood on it.
He's not moving either....
Josiah. His name is Josiah.
I don't like it. I like Walker better.
Josiah feels too...intimate.
I stomp up to Logan and turn him around, and before he can even react, I punch him in the nose.
"OW. SERIOUSLY. WHAT THE FUCK, COHEN?!"
I hit him again.
"Listen here, asshole. Stay the fuck away from him. This is your last warning." I growl.
"Why?! Jesus. Fuck."
"I've told you why. Get the hell out of here right now." I let go of his shirt and push him back, away from Josiah's limp body below me.
Jesus Christ is he dead?
"Whatever." He mutters as he walks away.
I crouch down beside Josiah and pause a moment before hesitantly grabbing his wrist, to check for a pulse.
His skin is so fucking soft.
What the hell?
He's alive... so that's something.
I drop his hand immediately after, and I contemplate waking him up.
I check the time...
Anyone that would be getting out of detention, or extracurriculars, will be getting out. Really fucking soon.
I...I guess I'll take him home?
I look around and find his glasses on the floor. They're really cracked. But i'm sure he'll still want them.
I slip his backpack onto my back with mine, and then I pick up his limp body as gently as possibly.
He's really light, like light enough to make me worry.
Why the fuck should I care?
I shake my head and carry him out to my motorcycle.
Fuck.
How the fuck am I getting him home?
I guess I can walk? I'm only a ten minute drive.
Fuck, I guess I'm carrying him home.
But if my parents saw me...
I don't know what else I would do.
I guess I have too.
I shift the bags on my back and walk quickly home, hoping to god my parents aren't there...
They never are, but this would be the one time... with my fucking luck.
I take him into the house and straight up into my room, laying him down on the bed.
I have a boy in my bed...
A very bloody, unconscious boy....
It's alarming.
I need to figure out where the blood is coming from.
I need to...take his sweater off.
Fuck.
I sit him up gently and slip the sweater off over his head.
I lay him back down and look over him slowly, checking for wounds.
And holy shit, he has so many bruises...
What the fuck has Logan been doing to this poor kid?
But it doesn't matter.
I don't care. I just need him alive to tutor me.
That's it.
It looks like the only reason he was bleeding was from his nose to be honest, and as fucked up as the bruising is, I can't do anything about it.
I go into my bathroom and get a wet washcloth, and I gently wipe the blood from his face.
As soon as he's cleaned up, I pull a blanket over him.
There's nothing else I can do, but hope he wakes up.
....
He wakes up, and when he does, He sits directly up, and is screaming when he does so.
"Jesus fucking Christ." I yelp, jumping up off the couch and rushing over to him.
"What the FUCK, dude?!"W-What...the hell is going on?!""I don't know! Why the fuck are you screaming?!"
"Where am I?! D-Damien...?"
Oh. Right. he can't see very well.
"Yeah. You're at my house. In my room."
"Why?"
"Cause." I say sitting back down on the couch across from the bed.
"What's wrong with you? I'm serious."
"Fine. You were supposed to meet me outside of school, and when you didn't, I was going to come beat your ass, but Logan got there first. So I punched him and brought you here."
"Let me guess. You just really need me to tutor you, right?"
"What else would it be, asshole?"
"I don't know what you could do... There's other kids who could tutor you, dumb-ass."
But.... it has to be him.
"Yeah, but you're smarter than the other kids."
Lie.
Why AM I picking him over anyone else?
"I'm not. So what the hell d-do you actually want from m-me...?"
"The tutoring. that's it. I'm not playing some sort of fucked up joke on you, i'm just trying to not have to retake 12th grade." I lean forward and look over at him.
He looks so terrified.
And ...still shirtless.
"Y-You're not gonna hurt me?" He asks cautiously.
"Not if you don't give me a reason to, no."
"So, you will."
I sigh. "No. I won't. Okay?"
Whatever it takes to get him to shut up.
"Okay... Where's... Where's my s-sweater?!" He immediately starts panicking again.
"Relax. It's in the wash. Pierre is trying to get the blood out of it. He's practically Jesus when it comes to that sort of shit."
"W-Who's Pierre? No. No, you don't understand. I need it. Give it back."
"...Do you want to just borrow one of mine? God. I'm going to give it back, chill."
"Give me s-something! What the hell...?!"
I get up and go to my dresser, grabbing a random black tee-shirt and then tossing it to him. It lands beside him on the bed.
"What was that?!"
"Jesus, are you that fucking blind?" I say coming over to the bed beside him. I grab the shirt and hold it out. "Here. Take it."
He stares at it blankly. "...Is this something you do a lot?" He asks before taking the shirt and pulling it on over his head.
It's very big on him.
I like how it looks on him...
I shake my head.
"Picking up strays? Not normally, no."
"If you were worried because I was hurt, or whatever, you should have just brought me to a doctor. You know." He cracks a slight smile.
...He's really cute when he smiles.
I can't think about that.
I shake my head and scowl in return, not that he can see it probably.
" I didn't know what to do, I panicked." I admit. Taking care of people is not exactly my cup of tea.
"That's nice." He remarks.
"Nice? what?"
Why the fuck would he call me nice?
"Relax. I'm kidding. Just trying to scare you."
"...Right. Well, it didn't work." I lie, holding his glasses out to him. "Here. Your glasses." I explain. It's hard to remember to have to say stuff instead of just...doing it.
"You sounded surprised." He says as he takes them and sips them on, blinking up in my direction.
Not only are his eyes beautiful, he has really long eyelashes too.
"Bullshit. You don't know me. How would you know if I was or wasn't surprised?"
"I know what people sound like when they're surprised. You aren't different than anyone else."
Suddenly there's a knock on the door.
"What was that?!"
I rush over to the door and open it just enough to peek out.
"It's only me." Pierre says as he peeks at me.
I sigh in relief as he says, "I'm still working on the sweater, but your parents requested that you join them for dinner... When I told them you had a guest, they insisted you bring him down, too."
Pierre looks in the room around me and smiles at Josiah. "It's nice to meet you, Josiah. Damien's told me a lot about you. It's nice to see Damien bringing friends over here, that aren't girls." he says giving me a pointed look.
"Stop it!" I groan at him and he laughs. "When's dinner then?"
"Seven. You guys have a little bit of time still. I just figured I would warn you."
"Thanks. See you then." I say, shutting the door.
I turn to Josiah, who's smiling now.
"Who was that?"
"That's...Pierre. He's like, I dunno, our...butler? For lack of a better word. That sounds douchey as hell, but he kinda runs the place."
"You have a butler...?!"
"Yep. Well, I guess you're staying for dinner, because I'm not fighting my parents on it, unless you are?"
"For dinner...? I don't want to. I'll stay up here."
"Too fucking bad."
"Why won't you leave me alone?"
"I'm not just leaving you up here. C'mon, you don't tell my parents no."
I go to the bed and offer him a hand up.
He just stares at my hand.
"What are you doing?"
"Offering you a hand up, good lord."
"Don't touch me."
"Okay." I shrug and step back. "Let's go. Get up then."
He stands, wincing as he does so. "Alright..."
I ignore him and walk to the door. He stays standing by the bed.
"C'mon Walker, I don't have all day."
"Don't call me that. My name is Josiah."
"I'll call you whatever I want. Let's go."
This isn't worth getting yelled at over. Mom's very particular about having dinner together, and us being on time.
He follows behind me slowly, limping slightly.
Jesus Christ. He looks like he's going to fall over.
I stop at the top of the stairs and look back at him.
"Be careful, we have a shit-ton of stairs here. The handrail is on your right."
"Where are they?"
"The stairs? A few steps in front of you."
This is sketchy. "Do you want me to put your hand on the railing?"
"No. I already said don't touch me."
I sigh and run a hand through my hair. "What the fuck do you want me to do then? Find it yourself.
I start going down the stairs.
I need to quit trying to be nice, if he's only going to be an asshole. I need to remember, I'm sure as hell not his friend. He's only means to an end.
"Okay. Fine."
I stop and watch him at the bottom of the stairwell, terrified he's going to fall, but not saying anything.
He puts his hand out and finds the railing and takes his time, going slowly down the stairs.
When he gets to the bottom I say, "About fucking time. C'mon, then."
He follows me into the dining room, and I see that my dad is sitting down already, glass of wine in hand.
"Damien! How was school?"
"It was school. Fucking awful." I say, sitting down at the table on his right side.
He laughs. "I was the same way when I was your age."
Josiah stands behind me awkwardly.
"And you must be Josiah. Please, have a seat." He gestures to the chair beside me, not that Josiah can see him.
I pull the chair out for him in emphasis, and he sits beside me cautiously.
"So, Josiah, you go to school with Damien, I assume? Are you a freshman?" My dad asks, passing the bottle of wine my way.
Ever since I was 16, they've said I was "Man enough" to drink with them, a glass of wine at dinner sort of thing.
As if I didn't sneak it since I was like 12.
It's not like they were here to stop me.
I pour myself a glass.
"No. Junior." Josiah corrects.
Hmm. Just by looking at him I would have figured he was a freshman or sophomore, at the most.
I look over at him, and hold the wine out. "Want some?" I smirk.
He doesn't seem like the type.
"What is it?"
"It's an..." I squint at the bottle, "California, 2013 Chardonnay."
"What?"
"Wine." I laugh.
"Alcohol?! How old are you? You can't drink that."
"18. And yes, I fucking can."
My dad just raises an eyebrow at us, before looking at his phone.
He's cool.
"No, you really can't."
My mom walks in and I smile. "Hey mom!"
She's on her phone too. Must be work related. "Hey." She says, not even looking up.
"Nice to see you, too." I murmur, slouching in my chair, drinking my wine.
Josiah is just staring at me, or more specifically, the wine.
"Don't be rude. And sit up." She says to me.
I do, and she smiles brightly at Josiah.
"It's nice to meet you, since Damien didn't introduce us." She shoots a disapproving look my way.
"You, too..." He mumbles.
Pierre brings the food out and they only eat for 10 minutes before their phones start blowing up.
Dad stands up and ruffles my hair as he passes. "Sorry kid...work emergency."
Mom gets up, too, and they leave their food untouched.
As soon as they go, I finish my drink and reach over the table, pouring my mom and dad's wine into my glass.
"Welp, it's a shame to let this go to waste."
"Why did he say emergency? What happened?"
"Hell if I know. There's some sort of emergency like every night."
"Do they work at a hospital or something?"
"No, they work in...stocks. It's a...stock market emergency." I take another drink of my wine.
"Oh. Okay."
I stare down at my untouched food in silence, pissed that they can't sit down for one fucking meal. For god's sake, Pierre made all this shit and they don't even eat it 89% of the time!
"...Do I have to eat this?" Josiah asks.
Pierre walks in and sighs, looking at the empty plates. "Work emergency?" He asks me.
"Of course." I say.
He stares at the wine in my hand. "Is the food not good?"
I take a bite. "It's pretty fucking good. It's always good, you know how they are."
"Thank you, Damien." He smiles.
"Of course man. Have you eaten? Cause, they didn't even touch it, if you want to sit down for a minute."
"Oh, sure. Josiah, do you not like the food? I can make something else for you."
"I don't know what it is." Josiah murmurs softly.
"It's steak. And veggies."
"Veggies? What kind?"
"The green kind. Just eat it or Pierre will cry."
Pierre rolls his eyes and sits at my moms food across from me. "Are you going to drink all of the wine?"
"I'm tempted."
"Give me a glass first."
I pour him one, then sit the bottle back beside me.
"So, Josiah, what are your plans? After high school?" Pierre asks him, starting in on the steak.
It is really fucking good.
"College."
I laugh. "What college? And for what?"
"I don't know. Whatever college is within walking distance from my house. And something science, like physics or chemistry."
I guess he wouldn't drive, considering...
"Where do you live? Do you walk to school then?" Pierre asks. "You don't drive? How old are you?"
"I- uh... I always walk to school, yeah. I don't have a car, or anything... And I'm sixteen."
"I thought you said you were a junior? You are smart, liar." I stare at him.
"I skipped a year in middle school. That doesn't make me a genius. I just really like school."
"Whatever."
"What about you, Damien? How is school going?"
"Fucking shit."
"That bad, huh?"
"Yuh. This loser is supposed to tutor me."
"Well, he's not going to if you're an ass about it." Pierre laughs.
"No, it's okay. I'll do whatever he wants." Josiah says.
"Don't let him push you around like that. He's not as big and scary as he thinks he is."
"Yes, he is." Josiah says looking at his hands in his lap.
Good. Let him be afraid.
"Okay, I'm done with my drink, want me to take you home?" Isay, standing up.
"You can't."
"Why the hell not?"
"Because you're drunk."
"I'm not drunk. I've had like...three glasses."
Pierre raises an eyebrow at me. "Tipsy driving is drunk driving."
"I'm not tipsy, either. Dammit! Get up, I'll take you home, you're not staying here."
"He's right, Damien." Josiah sides with Pierre.
Why the hell is he taking sides with him?!
Bitch.
"Why don't I take you guys?"
"You don't have to..."
He waves me off. "No. I insist. I don't like you driving like this, anyway." He gets up. "I'll have Damien bring you your sweater as soon as it's clean. It was really bloody."
Josiah looks down, as if realizing he's not in his clothes. "Maybe we should just wait."
Like hell I'm bringing him the sweater to school. "Yeah." I agree.
"It's in the wash. It will be awhile."
I stare over at Josiah, "It'll be awhile. I'll just...bring it to you."
"I don't know how long I can stay, but I don't want to leave without it."
"Come on man. It's just a sweater. I'll bring it back." I look at my phone.
Ethan has texted a million times. There's a party.
"I have to go. I'll go get your backpack from upstairs and we'll head out."
I leave him with Pierre, going up the stairs and quickly getting all his stuff, meeting them at the door.
"Thanks for driving." I say to Pierre as we head out to his car.
"No problem."
"I call shotgun!" I say running to the front and hopping in.
They get in, and Josiah climbs in the back. I hand him his bag and Pierre asks him, "Where do you live?"
"Oh. I... I don't know how to get there from here." He replies.
"Well, guess you're living here." I say, leaning my head against the window, "C'mon guys, I have plans!"
"I don't know where to go." Pierre says.
"I don't know!" Josiah shrugs.
"Jesus Christ. You said you walk? Can you get us there from the school?"
"...Yeah, maybe."
"Okay. Cool."
Pierre drives us to the school, and Josiah gives us directions back to his house.
It's really small.
Like, really, really small.
"Okay, here we are," Pierre says, "Walk him up, Damien."
"What? Why?"
"Because, it's polite."
I groan and get out, opening Josiah's door for him. "C'mon, loser."
He gets out. "You don't have to walk me to the door, you know."
"Pierre said. so I do." I say, walking with him up to the small house. "Shit. We didn't plan any tutoring stuff."
"I'll see you Monday. Right now, let's just say... Sometimes, after school, we go to your house to study. Okay?" He suggests.
"Sounds good to me." I say, stopping at his door. "Bye. I guess."
"Bye." He opens the front door.
I watch him go in, then I run back to the car.
"He's really cute." Pierre says to me.
"What?" I say, shutting the door.
"He's nice to you, you should be nicer to him." He says, starting the car.
"Whatever. I have a party to get to. Wanna just drop me off there?"
"No. If you want to do things like that, you have to go yourself. I'm taking you home."
"Okay."
We ride the rest of the way home in silence.
End.