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's P.O.V
-Thursday, September 16th-
"I...don't want to lose you. But, if it keeps you safe then, I guess it's what we have to do. I have to go. I'll...see you around. Walker."
I stuff my hands in my pockets and head away from him, farther into the school.
I don't think I'm going in the right direction for my next class. In fact, I'm going the wrong way.
It doesn't matter.
I go into the boys' bathroom to sulk, but there's people in here...
I could make them leave, but I don't have the energy.
I just...can't process what just happened.
When did Josiah Walker mean something to me?
Why is this so hard all of the sudden?
I'm going home.
I don't care anymore. I'm going home.
I wait in the bathroom for the bell to ring, and once it does, I sneak out and ride home quickly, ready for a drink...or twenty.
Pierre's car is in the driveway, but of course my parents are gone.
I wonder what all he has to do in a day anymore.
To be honest, looking after an empty house everyday seems really fucking boring.
Either way, I need to just get something to drink and go hide in my room, away from him.
I go inside and Pierre is nowhere to be seen.
I grab some random bottles from our always well stocked liquor cabinet, and I take them upstairs, going quickly.
I drop my book bag onto the floor and sit on my couch, opening the first bottle and beginning to drink it.
All I can think about is him...
Why the fuck does it hurt so badly?
After all, we were only friends.
Friends.
That's all we ever would have been, despite what I thought I wanted.
I could walk into that school, and pretty much get with any girl that I want, but none of them are interesting to me anymore.
I want him.
I liked being his friend, too.
How his eyes would light up when I would get him chicken nuggets or something else as equally stupid...
How his face would go red when I would call him cute...
And, oh my God, he's so fucking cute.
Every single time he would lean over me to check my work during tutoring...
I wanted to kiss him.
I... I can't keep this up.
I lay on my couch, which is too small for me to be laying on it, so my legs dangle over the armrest, but whatever.
It works.
I take another drink, then I hook my phone to my Bluetooth speakers that I'm not allowed to use unless no one's home,
And I put Taylor Swift on full blast, not giving a fuck that I'll be deaf at thirty-five at this rate.
Teardrops On My Guitar plays first, and it only takes a few minutes for someone to throw my bedroom door open.
I start screaming along.
I don't care anymore.
What's the point?
I lost my only actual friend.
"Damien? What the fuck are you doing?!" Pierre yells over the music.
"Can't talk. Having a crisis." I yell back, taking another drink.
I watch him go to my speakers and unplug them, the music immediately stopping.
"Damn you, Pierre. You suck. Boooooo." I boo him.
"Are you drinking? It's 11:00 a.m.!"
"I'm dying, Pierre." I say, and he takes the almost empty bottle out of my hands, and grabs the other one and puts them out of reach.
Doesn't matter. I'm already drunk.
"What is going on? Why aren't you at school?"
"The only person I've ever liked hates me."
"What do you mean? Who?" He sits down on the table beside the couch, and stares at me expectantly.
"Who do you think? Him." I say bitterly, staring up at the ceiling.
"Him...? Josiah?"
"Yeah. It doesn't matter. We're not friends anymore. Not like I wanted to be just friends..." I murmur, then quickly cover my mouth with my hand, staring at him wide-eyed.
He smiles at me. "Damien, you know it's okay for you to like him that way...right?"
"If my parents found out... Do you remember Parker? My friend when I was little...?"
He nods, "Yeah... But you're an adult now, Damien."
"You don't...think I would go to Hell for it? Like they said."
He sighs. "No. Everyone deserves to be with someone they love. It's okay."
"I DIDN'T SAY LOVE," I sit up quickly, "He's just really cute and nice and isn't afraid of me and... I want to be with him. But it doesn't matter. 'Cause he said we can't be friends anymore. I'm not even in the friend zone, Pierre! I would rather be in the friend zone than this!"
I run a hand through my hair. "I don't know why I thought this would work. I'm so stupid."
He puts a hand on my arm reassuringly. "You're not stupid, Damien. Do you really want to be with him, friend or not?"
I shake my head, feeling tears come to my eyes. "Yeah, but he doesn't want to see me, like ever. He said he would still do tutoring but... I doubt it will last. He'll just leave."
"Hey, don't give up on it just yet. You haven't lost him entirely, okay? Talk to him at tutoring, try to get him back, maybe even tell him how you feel...?"
"Fuck no!" I say, pulling away and laying back down on the couch with a sigh, "Maybe you're right...not about the telling him how I feel. That's a horrible idea. But maybe at tutoring, I can...maybe we can be friends. And being friends is better than nothing. I just... I need him."
I look up at him with tears in my eyes and he stands.
"C'mon. Let's go do something fun. Get your mind off this."
"Like what?" I ask, standing up beside him.
"Whatever you want."
I rub the tears out of my eyes. "Can we make cookies? Like we used to?"
He hugs me, "Of course."
I start crying again. "Asshole." I say quietly, hugging him tighter.
He lets me go and I compose myself.
"What kind of cookies do you want to make?"
"Duh. The only acceptable cookie."
He rolls his eyes. "You really haven't changed, have you?"
I smile at him, and try my best to actually mean it.
...
His name was Parker.
And when I was ten, he was all I could think about.
All I wanted was to be around him.
He made me...feel something. As a kid, I didn't really know what it was, but we were really close friends.
We had been inseparable since he moved to town that summer.
He always called me his best friend.
But all I knew, was this pretty girl named Kenzie had a boyfriend, and it seemed like more and more people were starting to...date.
And by date, I mean their parents would drive them to see a movie together, and they sat together at lunch and held hands on the playground.
I didn't know it wasn't okay to feel this way about Parker.
In fact, I couldn't get him out of my head. It was a school crush, and nothing more, but, looking back, I wonder if we would like each other now.
I'm a lot different now than I was then. I'm a lot taller, and a lot less into Power Rangers.
But that's beside the point.
One day after school, Parker was over at my house, and we were doing homework.
I remember he had curly brown hair. And all I wanted to do was touch it.
I said his name and he looked up and smiled.
Before I could stop myself, I blurted out, "I like you."
He looked confused and said, "I like you, too? We're best friends, dummy."
"No." I shook my head. "I like you. I... I want to hold hands. Like Kenzie does with her boyfriend."
He looked surprised. "Really?"
I nodded, embarrassed. "Yeah. I... I know that boys are with boys sometimes. I saw it on TV, and thought... I want to be with you."
"But I thought you liked Kenzie."
"She has a boyfriend, remember? She got him in summer camp this year."
Everyone knows summer camp boyfriends were always made up, but at the time, I thought she was so pretty, and everyone wanted her because she was unavailable. I had no chance with her, but it didn't matter anymore. Because I liked Parker more.
"I know that. But you can't like boys and girls. Everyone knows that."
I...couldn't? That was news to me.
"Well, I do. I like you, and I like Kenzie. But I like you more. And I want to hold hands and...kiss."
He looked up at me and smiled, and I was terrified he was going to make fun of me, or worse, tell the whole school I liked him, then make fun of me.
But he didn't.
"Damien, I like you, too. You can be my boyfriend."
...
The next day, Parker and I walked out of the school, holding hands.
None of the other kids seemed to mind that we were two guys together. No one bothered us and all I knew was that I liked him. A lot.
When Pierre picked me up from school, he asked, "Who was that holding your hand? Was that your friend Parker?"
"No. My boyfriend Parker."
I remember how he looked at me.
He looked scared. And knowing what happened later, I don't blame him.
"Buddy, you cannot, under any circumstances, tell your mom and dad, okay? They wouldn't like it."
His sudden urgency scared me. "What? Why? Parker is my boyfriend. We sit together at lunch and hold hands... He makes me happy."
I had only been with him for a day, but I was convinced we were going to get married.
"Your parents...don't know it's okay. If they find out, you'll be in a lot of trouble." He said.
"So you want me to break up with him?" I asked, tears in my eyes.
He ruffled a hand in my hair. "No! Of course not, buddy! If you like him, you should be with him. Simple as that. But if you tell your mom and dad, you will get in trouble. Just be careful. Not everyone is okay with it. They should be, but that's not how the world works."
I nodded my head.
And, God... I wish I would have listened, and been more secretive, or never dated him at all.
...
A few weeks of utter bliss were what happened next. I swore I was in love with him, but we didn't even know what love meant.
One day, Parker and I were walking hand in hand out of the building, and for once, my parents must have gotten out of work in time, because they picked me up instead.
And as they were in the car line, my mother saw me, and got out, rushing over to me.
"Damien, what the hell are you doing?!" She raised her voice. She was using her scary voice that she used when she was mad.
I let go of Parker and he looked just as afraid as I felt.
"Mom... This is Parker. My boyfriend."
Maybe Pierre was wrong. Maybe she would be nice.
"Don't you ever say that again!" She snapped, grabbing my hand and pulling me away from him and into the car.
He looked so scared...
I watched him stand alone in front of the school as my dad pulled us out of the parking lot, my mom yelling at me the whole time.
"God said a man and a woman!"
"Who told you this was okay?"
"If you're with him you will burn forever in Hell! Do you want that?!" She yelled at me.
I cried as I shook my head no.
I didn't want to go to Hell.
Hell was were the bad people went.
Pierre said it was okay...but I didn't want him to get yelled at, too.
As she lectured me the whole way home, my dad said nothing.
My father isn't very religious, and I don't think he cared that much about the whole issue, but he always let mom just raise that side of me. She normally made me go with her almost every Sunday to church, because she went every Sunday.
I will still never get how she can justify working with my father, but not me at ten years old having a boyfriend.
When we got home, she told me to go to my room and think about what I've done. She told me to pray and ask for God's forgiveness.
So, I went upstairs and did nothing.
I hated praying.
I played on my D.S. and just hid under the blanket, as I heard my mom screaming at my dad.
He must have tried to stand up for me, but after a bit, I heard the door slam.
I ran to my window and saw my dad speed out of the driveway.
Then I heard her stomp up the stairs toward me.
I was so afraid.
I never would call her abusive, but she would hit me in the mouth if I said something bad, or take away my D.S.
When she came in my room, I had never seen her that furious.
"Are you happy, you little brat?! Your sin made your father leave! He's gone now! Why aren't you praying?! I told you to pray!"
I started crying then. She pushed me to my knees beside my bed and forced my hands together.
I was sobbing at this point.
I thought my dad left because I was with Parker.
"No son of mine will be a faggot! I can't imagine how the church would feel if they knew..." She kneeled down beside me, "Pray and ask God to forgive you!"
"For what?!" I cried.
She smacked me in the mouth, making me cry more.
I still don't know how to shut the fuck up.
"You know for what! For your sin. Ask God to forgive you, and take that sin away!"
I tried to get up but she pushed me on my knees again, forcing my hands together.
"Pray."
"God...please..." I said through tears, "Please t-take away my sin, dear Lord. Pl-please. Take away...Parker."
"Good," She said, standing up, "Pray that until you fall asleep tonight, and think long and hard about the consequences of your actions, Damien. You will never be allowed to be with a boy! It is the worst sin! And I will not tolerate it. And neither will God. Do you understand?"
I nodded my head, not moving from my spot.
As soon as she left, I went to my computer and messaged Parker. We had a chat room online that we talked on. Neither of us had phones yet.
We usually used it to talk about trading Pokemon and stuff, but I couldn't see him anymore. I had to tell him goodbye.
Damien has entered the chat.
Damien: My mom says it's a sin that we're together and that we can't see each other anymore. So we have to break up and can't be friends.
I watched him enter the chat, but it took him a few minutes to reply.
Parker: What? Why?! But I thought you liked me.
I thought maybe if I told him I didn't like him anymore, that he would be happier. So I lied.
Damien: I don't think I like boys, she's right. And I don't think we can be friends anymore. Bye Parker.
You have blocked Parker in the chat. To undo, click here.
It hurt to say that. To lie like that. And I knew that lying was a sin, so I was guilty and it hurt.
It couldn't have been right if it hurt that bad.
I threw myself onto my bed and cried all night over him. Because I didn't just have to break up with my first boyfriend, I had to lose my best friend, too.
And that was the last time I ever talked to him.
He tried to approach me at school the next day, but I ignored him.
Again and again, he tried to talk to me, but I had to tell him to leave, that I wasn't interested.
But it hurt so much. I missed him. He was my only friend.
But it wasn't allowed.
Mom started making me go with her to every Sunday morning and night service, and had a bunch of church members privately talk with me about how being queer makes you burn in Hell...forever.
I saw Parker every day that school year, as I passed him in the halls. But after a week of me ignoring him, he found new friends. New people to sit with at lunch.
And I sat alone.
The next year we moved across the city I changed schools, and I never saw him again.
...
-Wednesday, September 22nd-
I wait for Josiah, leaning against my car.
I can't get Pierre's advice out of my head.
He said I should tell him how I feel.
...Not now. Not yet.
I just got him back as a friend, I can't risk losing him if he doesn't feel that same way.
But holy shit, holding his hand was amazing.
And I really hope it wasn't a one time thing...
But on the other hand, it made me have a lot of thoughts of pushing him down on the couch and kissing him...
He would flip.
So obviously, I didn't.
But thinking about it doesn't really hurt anything...
I see him approach slowly, looking around as if to see if anyone else is here...as if he can SEE.
"Over here." I say, and he turns to look at me.
I park in the same spot every time now, so he can find me easier.
"Hi." He smiles.
Every time he smiles, I can't help but smile back...not that he can see it. Just the idea that he's happy makes me happy...
"Hi." I say back. He walks up to me and stops a foot away, looking up at me.
"Let's go."
I clear my throat and look away. "Right. Sorry."
I get in the car and wait for him.
He climbs into the passenger's side and I say, "One second. I have to text someone really quick."
I pull out my phone and spam him with heart emojis.
His phone vibrates, and he pulls his phone from his pocket.
He puts it close to his face and squints at it for a moment.
He then looks up and glares at me. "It's easier to just...say things out loud, you know."
"Oh. Okay. Blue heart emoji." I smile at him.
"No, dumb-ass. Say I love you, or something. Not blue heart emoji."
"W-What?"
Say...WHAT?
He... I...
What?!
"What about what?"
"What do you mean what about what? What about what you just said!" I stammer, feeling my face flush.
Goddammit.
Fucking Josiah Walker.
"Which part? Did I say something wrong?" He fidgets with his sleeves and stares wide-eyed at me.
Oh my God.
I imagine pushing his hair out of his eyes and kissing him right now...
I don't know if it's worse or better now that I'm letting myself actually think about stuff like this...
I must stay silent for too long, because he says, "What's wrong?"
"Nothing's wrong. Let's go study." I say, starting the car and trying to calm the fuck down.
I turn my radio on, and Taylor Swift starts playing quietly in the background.
Shit.
I fumble for my phone, and quickly change it to My Chemical Romance.
But it's too late.
He knows.
"Turn it back."
"No...Taylor Swift is...dumb."
It hurts my heart to say that.
It physically hurts me.
"Um. I only like punk music." I lie, very unconvincingly.
You think I would be better at lying by now, good lord.
"It's not singing, though. It's yelling. Why are they yelling? Why are they angry?" His hands go up and cover his ears for emphasis.
"Because life sucks."
And life sucks because I want to kiss my closest friend.
That's what I'm yelling about when I scream along to the songs.
"Taylor Swift's life sucks, too. But she doesn't yell. She just complains...a lot."
"I mean, same..." I laugh, "Would you rather hear Taylor Swift?"
I would rather hear Taylor Swift.
"It doesn't matter. I just don't like it when people yell." He pouts.
"Sorry..." I say, switching it back to Taylor Swift, "But the Taylor Swift stays between us."
"So Taylor Swift is our thing...? You know, how every pair of people have a thing that they always do? Ours is listening to Taylor Swift now." He laughs softly.
Couple.
The word he's looking for...is couple.
No, it's not, Damien.
You dumb ass.
You're not a couple.
You will never be a couple.
Just...enjoy being with him.
"Yes. Taylor Swift is now our thing. It's our...pair of people thing." I keep my eyes on the road.
"Do you sing?" He asks after a beat of silence between us.
"What?"
He knows.
How does he KNOW my literal one guilty pleasure?!
Well, one of many guilty pleasures, but how does he know my one SECRET guilt pleasure?!
Playing guitar and singing...
"...Nope. I don't. Do you?"
"I'm not allowed. I used to, when I lived with my dad. It's fun. You should try it." He says.
"What? Like now? Like right here, right now?"
I know all of her songs word for word, and I can play most of them on my guitar, too.
"Sure." He shrugs.
"Not unless you sing, too."
"I can't. I'm now allowed," He repeats, "But you should. It'll get the pent up anger and stress you have inside of you to come out."
"How do you know I have pent up anger and stress?"
"Because everyone does. And everyone has their own way of getting it out. Yours is currently beating people up...and listening to people yell instead of sing."
"I'm not singing. That's embarrassing. I've never sang in front of anyone before. "
"You can sing in front of me, though. I don't mind."
I really want to.
I really, really want to.
Shake It Off starts playing.
Ehh... What the hell.
I start singing along, quietly.
Afraid he'll laugh at me.
"You're good at this." He smiles brightly.
I stop singing immediately. "I...do sing. A lot. Never in front of anyone. But it is stress relieving."
What the fuck...? Why not? He knows a bunch about me now anyway.
Who cares?
"And I...play guitar. But no one knows. Don't tell anyone."
"You play guitar?! Will you teach me? Please?" "What? No. I'm... I'm not good at it." I feel my face flush.
I pull my car into the garage and I get out.
"What are we studying first?" I ask him as he gets out. I grab both of our bags and lead him inside, hoping he changes the subject.
"Guitar." He says immediately.
I groan, "Josiah...!"
"I want to play instruments! When I was really little, I had this toy xylophone. I only knew how to play Twinkle, Twinkle, but that was enough for me. Teach me Twinkle, Twinkle on the guitar."
I mean, at least it's not...business.
"Fine." I sigh, leading him to the stairs.
I make him go first then follow behind him, trying not to stare at his ass the whole time because that feels pervy. He wears pretty baggy jeans, but my imagination can fill in plenty of gaps.
I lead him into my room and grab my guitar from where it leans against the wall beside my bed.
I sit down on the couch with it and he sits beside me.
"Okay. Maybe the best way I can show you is if you hold the guitar and I show you which strings? I've never taught anyone anything."
"I could just sit in front of you and watch you play it a few times. Then I might be able to do it." "That works, too." I play Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star slowly.
He kneels down in front of the couch, on the floor, staring at the guitar...closely...
The ways he's sitting... And he's so close... I...
Good Lord, I need to chill.
"Do you want to try now?" I ask him quickly.
I can only think about one thing; The way that we're sitting.
He looks up at my with innocent eyes and I immediately feel guilty
"It starts with this one?" He reaches out and touches the first chord, still looking up at me. As if he could see my face to read my expression. "Yeah." I say quietly.
Trying to calm down...
I look down at his hand and say, "You won't know how to do it until you try."
"You sound uncomfortable..." He remarks softly. "I'm always uncomfortable."
He needs to move.
Now.
"If you really don't want t-to teach me, then it's okay. I don't know what's wrong, but I-I don't want to make you...uncomfortable." He stammers.
"Just...come sit beside me. I'll show you how to hold the guitar."
I don't want to make things weird.
I want to be friends.
I do.
Anything is better than nothing.
"Okay," He gets up off of the floor and sits right next to me, "We're going to study chemistry after this. For a long time. Because you need to work a lot on it." He giggles.
I hand the guitar to him and he takes it, holding it way wrong.
"Okay. Rude," I laugh, "Can I help you? I'll just touch your hands...hold it how I was holding it in my lap."
"Okay... Yeah, just show me."
I sit the guitar in his lap and I put his hands where they go. "There. You should be able to reach all the strings from that position. Do remember which one is first?"
"No. I can't see it anymore... I don't like holding it like this anyway. It doesn't feel right."
"That's how you hold it. I'm going to touch your hands again. Is that okay?"
"Yeah. Of course." He says as if this is a totally normal thing...
Touching him...
"Sorry. I just don't want to scare you." I say, taking his hand and going to move it, but before I can move it, he lets go of the guitar and intertwines our fingers.
I feel my face flush and I'm so glad he can't see me.
I look down at our hands then look up at him, staring in his eyes, unable to look away
"No?" He starts giggling.
"No..." I smile, "I thought you wanted to learn?" His hand is quite smaller than mine. But he is a lot smaller than me in general.
His hand fits there perfectly, and I don't want to let go.
"I want to play guitar while holding your hand." "Sorry, bud. Not how it works."
He's so close.... If I just leaned down and took his face in my hands...
"I can't do it anyway. This hand doesn't do anything. I'm left handed." He states.
"Oh! Right. I forgot. No wonder you couldn't do it. We can just move the guitar around a bit if you want..." I say, not letting go.
I don't want to let go, ever.
I can't get over how his touch makes me feel.
Thank God he doesn't like touching, because I don't know how much of this could handle before I would die.
"I think guitar requires both hands, though. The right one doesn't know how to do anything. This is a problem."
"Right. I guess you need to let go of my hand first." I make no move to let go.
"Not like it'll change anything. I think we should take a break and hold hands."
I'm not going to complain.
"What about chemistry? And we can't take a break if we haven't started yet."
"I'll just list off chemistry facts and you tell me if they're true or false. So we don't have to move or stop holding hands." He giggles more.
He always seems so sad and stressed... I wish I could make him smile all of the time.
I take the guitar from his hands again and sit it on the table in front of us, then I take his hand again and sit back, shutting my eyes.
He leans against me a bit. "I'm going to take a nap first."
I try not to move, my entire body wanting to freak out where he's touching me
He's not even that close, but I'm hyper aware of how close he is.
"I'm always down for a nap."
"...Naps aren't business." He sighs.
"Naps are my business... No. Naps are my life."
"No, we can't... We have to do chemistry."
"Just like...ten minutes?" I plead. He makes me so relaxed that I could just sleep all the time.
I usually have a hard time sleeping at night, getting my brain to shut up.
This is nice.
"No. Hey... Damien... Is glass a liquid or a solid?" He asks, sounding tired all the sudden.
"Um. Solid."
It has to be. It's solid, not wet.
I don't open my eyes.
"Close enough... Glass actually isn't either. It's considered an amorphous solid, which is kinda a mixture of both liquid and solid..." He starts rambling sleepily.
"That's interesting. Imagine if it was liquid, though."
"It wouldn't cut things anymore. And glass cups would be pretty useless."
"Wait! Is there a correlation between that and the reason that you can see a reflection in water, a liquid?" I sit up, curious now, "Because you can see your reflection in glass."
"Maybe. You should research it. I can't see my reflection anywhere."
"Josiah, you're blind."
"I know. It's really sad."
"Oh my God. I'm glad you know. I was afraid I would have to break the news to you first." I chuckle.
"You usually have to explain everything to me anyways. Go ahead and try to break the news that I'm blind. It'll be funny." He suggests.
"Josiah. You know...um. There's something I've been meaning to tell you... You can't see. I know this may come as a shock to you, but it's just how it is, dude. Sorry about your luck. Your eyes may be pretty, but they're also pretty useless."
"Are my eyes pretty?" He asks softly.
"Yeah. They are...I guess you really don't know all that much what you look like, do you? Well, unless you stare very closely into a mirror occasionally... Which means I'm sure you know how your eyes look...never mind."
Stupid.
"I really don't know. I have very little idea what I look like."
You're the cutest person I've ever seen...
I can't say that.
"Your eyes are really big and innocent and the brightest blue I've ever seen on a real person, and you have long eyelashes, and..."
I realize I've been rambling, and I stop for a second, blushing. "Uh. You have girl eyes." I manage weakly.
"Is that a good thing?"
"I-I think so." I squeeze his hand a bit.
"Thanks."
I'm the biggest idiot on the planet, but at least I still have him in my life.
As a...friend.
Now I just need to come to terms with the fact that it will never be anything more than that, and that's okay.
END