"I'm gonna kill him," Emery's nails dug deep on the steering wheel, slowing down as they neared the school's parking lot. Ian had told him everything that happened, and he literally had to drag the redhead boy by the collar to keep him from harassing Bryce and his... acquaintance in their room. Emery gave up eventually, but he hasn't stopped talking about it since they left the hotel a few minutes ago. "That's it, I'm going to chop his head off and feed it to my dog."
"No, no," he went on, earning himself a sigh from Ian beside him who's been awfully quiet the whole ride. "I will chop his head and dick off and then feed him to my dog."
Emery's eyes lit up in a murderous sparkle. "No-"
"Emery," Ian tiredly interrupted. "I really don't wanna talk about this right now."
The redhead looked at him through the rearview mirror, inwardly sighing as he bit back another backstabbing threat to the guy who broke his best friend's heart. "Did you recognize the guy?" he asked Ian in a soft tone as he pulled over next to a worn Japanese jeep just as the faint sound of the lunch bell rang.
"No," Ian answered, opening the door to his side of the car. "and I don't care."
Except that he does. The image of that guy doing things he used to with Bryce - his skeletal fingers that were much shorter than Ian's roaming on his chest, his lips on Bryce, Bryce's body against his back - it all kept replaying in Ian's mind like a broken stereo, and he hated it. Every bit of it. "I'm just moving further without you," he recalled the blond saying and felt his heart shrink twice its size.
Ian knew he wasn't in the position to be upset. They never made it official, never asked each other out, never actually "broke up". But it still hurt that Bryce was able to throw him out of his life like that because of a mistake. A mistake that was out of his control. Ian gritted his teeth as his eyes began to well with tears again. He wanted to punch him. Punch his face for not trying to fix anything, but a voice in his head kicked him out of his reverie.
He's Bryce, it said. He does this kind of stuff. What did you think you were special?
"Are you sure you don't wanna go home?" Emery interrupted his thoughts, eyes following Ian as he stepped outside the car. Their feet sunk in the white snow, leaving a trail of shoeprints as they made their way inside the building.
"I'm fine, Em," Ian muttered without looking at Emery as he pushed the blue doors open. "I don't wanna miss class."
All the classrooms were almost empty when they got inside, the roar Ian felt in his stomach telling him that it was already lunch break. His body wanted him to eat, but he didn't have the appetite.
"I don't get it," Emery said. "He told you he wants to keep you around, but one little slip-up happens and he decides to go sleep with random twinks?"
"He can do whatever he wants," Ian answered, mind blank. "It's not like he was my boyfriend or anything."
Emery looked at him and frowned, fumbling over his words to at least lighten Ian's mood in the slightest. "You know what you should do?" he began to say. "You should call your ex-boyfriends and have them beat his ass."
"As much fun as that would be..." Ian's voice wasn't laced with any emotion as they turned a corner to the gym. He sounded like he was gonna say something, but his voice caught in a hang as he began to space out. Emery glanced at him with concern, yelping when Ian almost bumped into the edge of the hallway lockers.
"Ian," he called but received no response. "Ian."
"What?" the brunet flinched. "I'm sorry."
Instead of talking, Emery sighed and snaked his arms around Ian's before pulling him inside the gym.
There were still people setting up their booths, but the area wasn't as crowded as it was before. Asher, Cameron, and Blake were the only ones left by the swim team's booth, temples covered with sweat with a content expression on their faces.
"We're done!" Asher exclaimed, clapping his hands. "Fuck, I'm not doing any of that shit again."
Ian lifted his head up to see how the booth came out, and was actually impressed with his teammates' job. Lights glimmered from the edges of the white styrofoam letters that read "SMOOCH" glued to the red curtain background set up to look like a mini stage. He looked at the sign protruding from the side of the stand. "$1 one kiss," it read.
Ian brought his eyes around the gym to see the rest of the booths and half-expected them to look like shit but was surprised to see that the whole place looked like a pleasant festival of colors, distracting the brunet for a quick moment. The mixture of themes and decors made the gym look like a venue for an indoor Coachella. Ian remembered the past booth fests they participated in, which all took place outside, and wondered what it would've been like if the principal had agreed to the student council's proposal to do this year in the snow.
"What took you guys so long?" Asher asked after seeing Ian and Emery. Blake and Cameron turned their heads to them as well, as if asking the same question.
"Traffic," Emery answered.
"Hey, Ian did Bryce say anything?" Blake chirped, the name sending dread to the brunet's stomach again. "You didn't say I forgot his lunch, did you?"
Ian tried his hardest to smile for him. "No, Blake."
"Thank you," Blake pressed his hands together as he breathed a sigh of relief. "God, I'm hungry."
"Me, too," Asher agreed, hooking his arm around Emery. "I heard they're serving glazed carrots today."
The three walked towards the exit while Emery tried his hardest to get out of Asher's hold to turn around for Ian, but failed. He eventually gave up and listened to Asher blabber about what he's going to get for lunch while Blake grimaced at them all. Cameron and Ian were left standing by themselves by the booth, one more aware of the silence than the other.
Cameron dug his hands inside his jacket, watching the boys go further away before looking at Ian. "You okay?"
The brunet forced his eyes to widen to look nonchalant as he spoke. "Hm? Oh yeah, I'm fine, you?"
"Great," Cam answered, brows furrowed. He didn't say anything else, not wanting to seem nosy, and figured Ian would've shared if he wanted to.
"Great."
"Ian, you guys coming?" Blake called out. Ian smiled forcefully and made his way towards them, Cameron following closely behind.
Over the course of four hours, Ian spaced out in more instances than he was proud of, constantly finding himself looking at an empty chair. Teachers called him out a lot of times for it, and he'd just mumble back a "sorry," and would then immediately go back to his trance. He didn't pay attention to a single lesson for the rest of the periods, his mind occupied with the memory of the saltiness of his tears. He had no idea if he was simply imagining them, or if they were actually there.
The day passed by like a blur.
"Bye," Emery waved once they pulled over in front of his house. "Call me if you need anything."
Ian smiled, seeing the way the redhead's lips twitched when he saw the tired look on his face. "I will."
Emery nodded and said something about picking him up tomorrow at the same time. Ian nodded, waved him off, and watched his car vanish out of his sight. Turning around, he stepped carefully on the icy cobblestones up to their porch and knocked on the door before it swung open to reveal Olivia in her work clothes, her hair tied up in a messy low bun, strands of brown falling right in front of her ears.
Her shoulders dropped seeing Ian's red face and knew immediately that the cold winter had nothing to do with it. "Do you want me to ask?" she said, hands gentle on either side of her son's arms.
Instead of answering, Ian dropped his bag on the floor and flung his arms around his mother in a much-needed hug.
. . . . .
Later that night, Ian didn't know why he found it necessary to scroll through his last texts with Bryce, but for some reason he did. His brain somehow deluded him into picking his phone up to read said texts, and as he reached the most recent ones from a couple of days ago, Ian released a breath he had no idea he was holding.
THURSDAY ∙ 11:23 PM
Bryce: hey
Bryce: are you up?
Bryce: ur asleep aren't you
Bryce: it's like 8
Bryce: i can't sleep
You: well some of us can
You: bryce it's almost midnight what are you doing
Bryce: i found a crack on my wall that looks like bob saget
You: okay but can you find a crack on your wall and NOT text me while i'm sleeping
Bryce: lol
Bryce: can i see you
You: you see me everyday
Bryce: pls
Bryce: just 10 minutes
You: i wanna sleep
Bryce: 5 minutes
Bryce: you don't have to talk
Bryce: you can sleep idc
You: you're so weird
Bryce: is that a yes :)
Ian turned his phone off and closed his eyes. He played his fingers at the cord of his earphones, wishing he could trick himself to sleep, but he knew if he closed his eyes again, he'd be right back in Bryce's hotel room, seeing his half-undone pants and the guilt on his face that he couldn't quite understand. He laid there for a long while, alone in the quiet room with his thoughts until sleep decided to pay him a long-overdue visit.
. . . . .
Surprisingly, the next day hadn't been so bad. Ian woke up feeling not quite as bad as he thought he would, though the dull ache in his chest was still there. He got up from his bed with no specific goal for the day, just enough for him to fix himself up and get into school-appropriate clothes, a duffle coat, and a maroon crochet beanie with a lemon patch given to him as a gift when he was seven.
"Good morning," Ian heard someone say as he descended the stairs. Although faint, he could tell it was Emery. "Is Ian up?"
"I'm here," Ian called with a tight smile, making Evie squeal excitedly. His smile grew at the sight of her peanut butter-covered lips as she reached her arms up, reaching for a hug.
"She's especially energetic today for some reason," Olivia said adoringly, ruffling her daughter's hair while Ian bent down to press a kiss on Evie's cheek. She looked up at the two teenage boys inquiringly. "Breakfast?"
Emery shook his head politely. "I've had my fill."
"I'll just have the toast. I'm gonna be late for school," Ian grabbed two from the table, pressing a kiss on Olivia's forehead before locking one toast between his teeth. "Love you."
Olivia perked up as if a light bulb just appeared on top of her bed. "Isn't that booth festival thing of yours today?"
"That's right." Emery grinned, placing his hand on the wall beside him.
"Take pictures for me," she demanded as she reached for a tissue to wipe Evie's face, making Ian roll his eyes.
"Mom."
"You boys drive safe alright?" Olivia told them, ignoring her son, and earned herself two affirmative thumbs-up before the two boys left the front door.
Emery jogged down the pathway, almost slipping, and would've landed on his ass hadn't Ian caught him by the wrist. The brunet snorted at the noise he made, expecting Emery to scowl but instead got himself a proud smile.
"You look chippy," Emery observed before plopping next to Ian inside his car. The latter boy scoffed.
"I'm not," he said. "I just thought it'd be nice to get up this morning without crying."
"Moving on huh."
"Something like that."
Emery hummed as he started driving into the traffic. "I don't wanna ruin anything but," he started. "Bryce texted the group last night and said he'll be there for the booth. Just thought I'd give you a heads up."
Ian stalked the surroundings with his eyes and mumbled, "Good for him."
He just wanted to get through this day without thinking about Bryce, but apparently, now that won't be possible. Ian silently prayed that he wouldn't have to interact with the blond much today, or if it isn't too much to ask, at all. Just the mere mention of his name numbs Ian down, and he would rather skip the fest than to deal with his feelings for a whole day.
They arrived at the school a few minutes later. Music blasting from the gym could be heard from several meters away, reaching the parking lot. "This oughta be good," Emery said, and Ian chuckled, telling himself he should at least enjoy if he was indeed going to move with his plan of getting over Bryce. "Come on."
I Think He Knows by Taylor Swift blared through the speakers inside the campus building. Emery bobbed his head with the music, eliciting a silent laugh from Ian whenever the redhead would try to sing along just to fail miserably. A lot of unfamiliar faces were stalking the halls with them. Judging by the maroon and white outlines of their varsity jackets, Ian assumed they were students from Moutesven High.
"Coach told us we're competing with them," Emery mumbled beside him as their eyes met with a group of Moutesven kids. Ian pointed at one of the girls whose voice prevailed among the others, her hips jutted on one side as her hand clasped the elbow opposite. "Isn't that Asher's sister?"
"Allison!" Emery greeted with a kind smile, gaining the girl's attention.
"Emery, hey! Hi, Ian," she waved at them enthusiastically before excusing herself from her friends. "Nice beanie," she pointed at the brunet's hat.
Ian mumbled a quiet "thanks," vaguely recalling how Asher used turn all 'big brotherly' whenever she was around. Allison used to go to the same school as them until she got expelled for getting into too much trouble, very much unlike her older sibling. "Thanks. Did you come here with Asher?"
"Nah, I got myself a driver," she grinned.
"I'm your boyfriend," a scrawny tan boy interjected, sending her a pointed look. Allison rolled her eyes but smiled before turning back to the two. "See you guys later?"
"Sure," Ian spoke before waving at her and her boyfriend goodbye. Emery pulled him back on their way to the gym just as the next song started playing.
"This year's fundraising fest is sponsored by New York College of Osteopathic Medicine," the announcer would say every once in a while, kind of like one of those random announcements you hear on the radio whenever the song fades to its end. "On behalf of the student government of Norton High, I am very pleased to welcome the representatives here with us today. We are beyond thankful for your kindness and generosity. You can find the list of fund recipients in our..."
Inside, the gym was filled with music thrice as loud as it sounded from outside. Ian could hear the screaming joy of people around game booths and he could feel his feet vibrating with the thunderous booming from the speakers. He looked to the side and saw a booth offering free face painting, and also a couple of tricksters who claims they can make people disappear for five dollars.
"It's because you're standing in front. They see you first," Ian heard Blake complain once they reached the kissing booth, which apparently is the talk of the town. There was a long line of girls crowding around their booth, eyes on the member of their interests. Blake crossed his arms to huff while Asher proceeded to ignore his banters as his lips left the next girl on the line, smirking. "Come on! Let me stand guard for once."
"They're personal requests, Blake. It's not my fault I'm hotter than you."
"Ah!" Blake gasped, offended. "Does the truth mean anything anymore around here?"
Ian's eyes bore over to the blond boy sitting beside them, silently laughing, his cheeks stretched out in a smirk. He felt his heart squeeze itself at the sight of Bryce, blonde hair obscuring his eyes as it crinkled in the corners.
"Your hair is getting long."
"What about it?"
"I like it."
Ian shook the memory out of his head and went over to Cameron while Emery found comfort in the opposite booth's cupcakes.
"That's a lot of money," Ian called, eyes trained on the stack of one dollar bills in Cameron's hand as he tried his best to forget about Bryce. "Are we late or something?"
Hearing his voice, Bryce's smile quickly faded. Being made aware of Ian's presence, the blond cleared his throat and pretended to be engrossed on his phone, fingers absentmindedly swiping on the screen.
"No. People just love fighting with their tongues, apparently," Cameron chuckled before looking up, brown eyes meeting Ian's. Ian didn't notice them before, but up close, he could see that Cameron's other eye was a shade lighter than the other. "You feeling better?"
"What do you mean?"
"I just kinda sensed you were having a pretty shitty day yesterday," he answered, looking back down to count the next batch of cash.
"Oh," Ian's eyes zeroed in behind Cameron, to Bryce who was avoiding his glance. "Yeah, a little. I'm fine now though, thanks for asking."
The blond smiled at him before reaching behind his pants, cursing under his breath when he couldn't get them all. He chuckled nervously and stood up before finally retrieving whatever it was that he was trying to get out.
"Blake ate half of them but I kept a few for you two," Cameron gestured at Emery as he handed Ian four butterscotch candies. "Don't tell the bastard."
"Got it," Ian laughed, keeping two in his coat's pocket and opening one to pop into his mouth. "Speaking of."
"Hey! Guess what, guess what, guess what!" Blake ran up to them excitedly, eyes beaming at Ian. "I read through the recipients and you're not gonna believe who I found in the representative's list."
"Is that nail polish?" Emery appeared behind Ian, lips smudged with cupcake crumbs and pointed at the dark blue tips of Blake's fingernails. "Are you wearing nail polish?"
"Oh yeah. I lost a bet," the dark-haired boy shrugged nonchalantly. "Anyway-"
He was cut off by the microphone feedback, followed by a monotonous voice.
"Calling the owner of a white BMW convertible... whoever you are," one of the organizers, a tall guy in a yellow striped shirt spoke through the mic situated on the far left side of the gym. He sounded like he knew who the owner was but refrained from naming them for formality purposes. "you left your top down, dumbass."
"Fuck, that's me," Blake cursed, wide eyes filling with adrenaline. "Be right back."
Ian chuckled as they watched Blake zoom past them towards the parking lot, assumingly to save his car from turning into a massive snow dump. He came back a few minutes later, panting and hair covered with white dust. He seemed to have forgotten about whatever he was about to say to Ian when he immediately ran in front to steal a girl from Asher, which the brunet didn't mind at all as he watched the two bicker again with amusement.
Some part of him wished he and Bryce hadn't hooked up that day in the shower rooms, wondering how his relationship with the blond could've been if things didn't change prior to that moment. That way they didn't have to suffer being around each other right now, maybe even be friends over time. But no, there were no spaces left for what-ifs. The least thing Ian could do is deal with it and he despised that fact.
"Hey, Cameron!"
Three heads turned to the owner of the voice; Emery, Ian, and of course, Cameron. Standing in front of the booth were two girls wearing clothes of the same style, a brunette and a shy-looking blonde one with purple highlights.
"Nice booth," she added with a hint of suggestion in her voice.
"Thanks. I helped," Cameron spoke humbly, glancing at Asher who looked at him with approval. "Can I help you?"
"You're so funny," she giggled, making Ian inwardly grimace. "Anyways, um-"
"My friend here has been crazy about you since eighth grade," she continued, tugging on the other girl's wrist who didn't look like she was fond of her friend's idea. "It's her birthday, too so..."
Cameron looked like he was fighting a frown, so was Emery, but Ian decided not to comment on the latter. "I hate to disappoint but I'm only here to count your money," Cam said jokingly before pointing at their captain beside him. "This guy hasn't kissed anyone yet though, it could be your lucky day."
Bryce looked up after hearing that and threw Cameron a hard glance, but the boy was already back on his business before he could notice. The blond shifted his gaze a few inches to the right and instantly met Ian's eyes, who looked away as soon as it did. Ian tried not to look bothered, but he knew Bryce has spent a long enough time with him to catch on to his tells, from the way his nose scrunches when he's uncomfortable to the poorly masked frown on his face when he's jealous whenever Bryce talks about the girls he's ben with. Ian brought his eyes back up, and was surprised to see Bryce looking at him as if he was waiting for the brunet to grow out wings from his back or something.
"Oh," the brunette threw Bryce a sly smirk. "Well, that I can do."
This caught Bryce's attention, heads shifting to look at her as if he forgot she was there for a moment.
"So?" the girl spoke again, impatient. "Are we gonna? Or do you charge extra?"
Bryce laughed humorlessly. "Well-"
He didn't get the chance to continue when she leaned closer to forcibly press their mouths together, making Bryce let out a loud "hmph". They stumbled rather awkwardly as she kissed harder, his hands dropping to grip on the sides of her waist out of instinct, which the girl mistakenly took as a flirting gesture.
"Go, Hailey!"
Hailey smirked while Ian watched the scene unfold under his eyebrows begrudgingly. Hailey's other friends (except for the one she was previously trying to set up Cameron with) whom he didn't notice were there started squealing as their lips brushed for a swift moment before she raked her fingers through Bryce's hair, pushing him to kiss back. Soon their mouths were moving against each other sloppily, and Ian could tell who was exerting effort and who wasn't, speaking from experience.
He kisses better than that, he inwardly thought.
"He does that to you?" Emery whispered to Ian while he pointed at Bryce and the girl he was currently kissing. "Boy, you could do a lot better."
Ian rolled his eyes, mentally disagreeing as he teased, "What do you know?"
"Feeling better, are we?" Emery spat sarcastically, the corners of his lips lifting in a small smile.
Ian laughed and turned around to see Bryce kissing another girl, but he couldn't see his face. His eyes flew skyward.
He was annoyed, mostly at himself for standing there and taking the unpleasant sight for his own account. Bryce looked like he was having a good time, and before him stood quite a long line of "customers" waiting to get a taste of his mouth. Ian looked over to the rest of his team, who weren't at all helping as they laughed and shook their heads.
I hope he gets fucking herpes, Ian thought.
"Attaboy," Emery cracked up beside him, and the brunet realized he had said that out loud. "That's the spirit."
"Can we go somewhere else?" he pleaded, and Emery was about to okay when they heard Bryce's voice. He was talking to a guy, whom Ian recalled seeing at Shawn's party last Halloween. His name started with an A, or was it E? It might've been "Mason" or "Jason". Either way, he couldn't remember, but he knew the guy was close with Shawn so he's also probably on the basketball team.
"What?" Bryce asked, his tense jaw betraying his neutral voice.
"I said I want the pretty boy in the beanie," the guy answered with a smirk as he slid a crumpled one-dollar bill in front of the blond, expression smug. His eyes found Ian's while Bryce kept his gaze on the guy, almost as if he didn't want to see Ian's reaction.
He was handsome, maybe even more than Bryce himself and that's saying a lot. He was taller, too, the kind of guy you can tell who works out even with the thick winter coat and everything. He had medium-length curly hair covering his ears, with light brown eyes a few shades lighter than his own skin. After a few seconds of scrutinization, Ian thought he looked like a young version of Jesse Williams from Grey's Anatomy.
He choked, hands flying over his head to feel the cloth on top. "What?"
Emery, who was smiling like a dork, spoke giddily next to Ian's ear and said, "He said he wants the pretty boy in the beanie."
"Oh yeah, that guy's been eyeing you since you arrived," Asher elbowed the brunet, eyebrows wiggling suggestively. "He's hot. I say go for it."
"You don't have to do anything you don't want to," Cameron had him know, serious.
"Come on," he heard the guy say as he raised his arms, yelling to get Ian's attention. "It's for a good cause!"
Bryce was staring at him like he was looking at a two-headed unicorn as he was pinching his lips to keep himself from grinding his teeth. He looked like he was about to show the guy the way to the exit when he heard Ian speak with a hint of disregard for the blond, tone fruity.
"You know what?"
Ian stepped forward, his arms lightly brushing against Bryce who looked appalled, but the brunet saw nothing. His eyes were focused on the curly-haired boy looking back at him with a smirk, and without saying anything, pressed their lips together in an open-mouthed kiss.
It was good, and throughout the whole 10-second duration of their make-out session, Ian felt light. Rebellious. Not less heartbroken though, no. As he deepened the kiss, the chorus of cheers from the crowd drowned out, and all the brunet could think about was Bryce. He wondered what he could've felt kissing another boy in that hotel room, and if he felt as bad right now seeing the brunet's lips on another man as Ian did when he saw them together. Ian wanted him to. He needed Bryce to feel the jealousy he did partly because he knew that'll make him feel better, but for the most part, he just wanted to know if Bryce actually cared. If he'd actually found value in those four months they spent together. Maybe with that assurance, he can let go of the dejection sitting in the pit of his stomach. Even if didn't want to.
But who was he kidding?
"Wow... I think I owe you another dollar," the boy muttered after the kiss was over, dazed. He stepped back, offering his hand to Ian who looked like he just woke up from a dream. "Rafael," he introduced himself.
Ian was about to say something when a loud voice yelled behind them. Turning, he saw a small group of three sophomore boys who looked like they were a few weeks short of puberty snickering their way, dressed in clothes that made them look like Justin Bieber triplets.
"Fucking fags," the one in the middle spat with too much unnecessary aggression.
People-everyone within earshot-snapped their heads towards the voice, including the boy Ian was kissing, whom he forgot the name of in a matter of seconds.
"Woah, woah, woah-" Emery jumped to his friend's rescue, his ruffled red hair bouncing as he jumped down the ramp to interject.
"What did you just say?" Cameron spoke in a biting tone, eyes dark as he slowly rose from his seat. His brows drew together while the kid cowered, stepping back. "What the hell did you just say?"
Somehow the sophomore thought it was a good idea to answer. "I said-"
"Say it again and it'll be the last thing you do," fumed Asher.
JB #1 snickered. "Oh, what are you gonna do? Slap me with your flippers?"
"Yes," Asher looked pissed as he began surging forward. "You'd like that won't you? You little b-"
Ian mumbled, "Ash."
They all murmured angered sounds of agreement, even the attendees from nearby booths, cornering the jerk and his minions. The shortest one tugged on the other guy's wrist and whispered something to his ear, his foot tapping in an anxious pace.
"We don't do that shit here, Milton," Blake added, expression uncharacteristically sullen and serious as he blocked his hand on Asher's chest who was now throwing killer daggers at Milton and his cowardly group of peers. "Come on now, homophobia and a bruise won't look good on that pretty face."
He gestured at Cameron and Asher, who looked like their heads were seconds away from exploding.
Milton scowled, but his feet were moving to turn tail. "Fuck you, Yeun."
Blake glared at their backs as they began retreating. "It's nice to be appreciated," he spat back.
The rest of the team had their fists waiting beside them, as if ready to lunge if the three asshats were to turn around and do something stupid. Ian stood quietly by the booth, eyes casting on the one guy no one paid attention to.
The one guy who hasn't said a single word to defend him.
"Don't mind them," he flinched at Cameron's voice and saw that the team had slowly come back to their respective business like nothing happened.
Ian huffed silently, eyes trained on Bryce who was still blank as a canvas, something a little over the barrier of annoyance fueling up his chest.
"I rarely do."
. . . . .
"You are such a fucking coward."
Bryce looked up, mouth pressed firmly as he set his foot down on the floor from the bench where he was previously tying his shoe's laces. Ian followed the blond to the empty locker room when Emery wasn't looking, determined to pick a bone with him.
Breaking Ian's heart was one thing, tolerating homophobic bastards who call him names was another.
"What do you want, Ian?" Bryce asked, sounding like he didn't have the energy to be dealing with him right now. He sounded distant, and Ian tried his best to ignore the resurfacing pang in his chest.
"I thought you changed," he sounded broken, but his anger overpowered the pain in his voice. "I was so stupid to think you liked me back."
He saw Bryce's shoulders tensed, Ian could see as much, but he decided not to pay attention. Not anymore. He needed to let Bryce know that he was angry. Mad, furious, aggravated. Ian needed him to know that he despised him, above all despised himself for ever catching feelings for him.
"I hate you."
Bryce stayed silent, his back turned against Ian but he made no noise of protest. Ian was standing a few feet away from the blond, but he felt farther. He figured that was better.
"I hate you so much, I wish- I wish I could go back to September and punch myself in the face because that-!" his voice cracked. "That would've hurt less..."
"You didn't have to make me feel like I mattered to you," Ian went on, even with Bryce's back turned against him. "If you were just gonna screw me over you should've just said so! So I didn't have to waste months waiting for you to get yourself straight!"
"Are you done?" Ian couldn't tell if he was provoking him or if Bryce was just simply asking, but he didn't care. He sounded tired, but Ian didn't care. He was done caring. Done giving all his remaining fucks to the one person who didn't.
"I really thought you had the tiniest bit of something for me there," Ian let out, faint. "You're a superb fucking liar."
Bryce turned around, but Ian didn't dare look at his face. He heard the blond call his name, followed by another string of words that mattered no more for Ian with all the pent-up frustration he had going on inside him. "What you saw in the hotel-"
Ian cut him off mid-sentence, hoping his words stung as much as it did saying them.
"Shut up."
The blond stilled, and Ian took a second to look at him. His face was blank. No emotions, nothing.
"Whatever excuse you're planning to make up this time, keep it."
Ian spoke harshly, uncoiling his fist to let go of the spare key Bryce had given him, the sound of metal to concrete contact echoing in the room.
"I don't care anymore."
With that Ian turned his heel, not giving Bryce a chance to say anything else. Because he knew, he knew if the blond said one more word, he'd turn on himself. And Ian didn't want to put himself in that position. Not again.
He burst open the door and ran through the hallway. Thankfully it was empty. No one was there to see Ian breaking down for what he thinks is the gazillionth time for this week alone, but he promised himself that it'd be the last. He's not worth it, he tried to convince himself, and as he turned a sharp left, his head bumped into something, or someone rather, sending him on the floor, his back harshly hitting the opposite wall.
"Oh my God, I'm so sorry-" the idiot that he was, Ian apologized once again for something that wasn't his fault. He couldn't help but laugh at himself.
"Ian," the man sounded surprised. Ian took the hand that appeared in front of his face as it guided him to stand up. The brunet looked up, blinking his tears away until his vision cleared, revealing the owner of the familiar voice.
"Noah?"
Happy holidays and a merry freaking Chrysler to everyone!