***
Watching Lucas onstage is captivating.
It's one of those moments that make it eerily hard to look away. Not when he's there, the lighting almost playing favorites as it illuminates him.
It's a full-dress rehearsal, the play looming over the horizon. Audrey— played by Andrea Alvarez— clings onto Lucas as they both fall into their roles easily. Not only that, but Andrea almost seems to bring a new type of power to the role, one that's sure to allure the audience come opening night.
I murmur the lines to myself as they both speak, back and forth. It comes easy to them, the drama, the flair. It comes insanely easy to Lucas, who I'm certain was born for this. Or maybe, drama was born for him.
Insane that throughout all our makeshift practice sessions, despite my lack of talent in that realm, all the lines are practically instilled into my mind. I couldn't forget them if I wanted to. However, I'm not too sure that I'd want to forget them, anyway.
Imagine radiating as much star energy as Lucas Garcia. I fold my arms, leaning against the back wall with an easy chuckle. Couldn't be me. Another little laugh. Which is nice. The fact that laughter comes easier these days, that I don't feel like crying for no reason at all.
I don't feel broken. Not completely at least. And that's enough to keep my gaze on the stage.
Actors make it look easy. And I'm shit at memorization, talk less of singing and dancing and looking like you want to be onstage 24/7. So, I admire from afar, my mouth moving with the lines as Lucas speaks, my chest swelling with something too close to pride.
The dress rehearsal comes to an end, the director—Ms. Ingram— gathering all the actors to the center, shooting out some pieces of feedback, distributing high fives and after a few minutes of low speaking, she gives them a gesture to leave.
Ms. Ingram works everything, all the major events, sections of the school choir, the AP English class, and the entire drama department. I'm tempted to ask her how it feels carrying the entire school.
My train of thought is interrupted as Lucas Garcia swings off the stage, still fully dressed in his costume as he approaches me with one of those lopsided grins of his.
He's wearing oversized glasses, a vest over top of a t-shirt, plain pants reaching his ankles, leather shoes tapping on the floor beneath him.
I'm certain the outfit is supposed to make him look awkward and shit, but honestly, it doesn't. It looks like he was meant to be in it. It's fitted, comfortable. His head's tilted up, huge glasses enlarging his already large eyes. The top few buttons of the shirt underneath are undone. He's smiling breathlessly.
His smile makes me undone.
"Nerd," I say, smirk curving onto my lips.
Lucas rolls his eyes.
"Not you acting like you weren't staring at me for a whole five minutes." A smug grin rises to his face as he pokes a finger at my cheek, huge glasses falling to his nose. "Who do you think you're fooling?"
I blink, lips parting as an incredulous snort leaves my lips. Lucas does one of those cute little winks before he whips around, calling something out about going to change. And I can't help shaking my head in amusement as I watch him go.
***
I lean against my car where Lucas said he'd meet me, fingers flying over my phone's screen, sun beating down on me, mercilessly.
My fingers click rapidly as I harvest my crops from the game, a smug grin rising to my lips as I start collecting the money. I might have an unhealthy addiction with farming games. They're a good distraction, I guess.
"Ready to go?" A voice asks, and I pause the game, sliding my phone into my pocket as my eyes meet Lucas Garcia's.
He's back in his usual fitted shirt— this one has splatters of paint all over it— and washed out jeans, slight rips at the knees. His converse shoes tap at the ground eagerly.
I let out a breath. "Let's hope so."
With that, I slide into the drivers seat, Lucas sliding into the passengers seat next to me. The two addresses are pasted onto the dashboard, Lucas' eyes scanning over them with some sort of determination.
The fact that we're actually going is enough to cause nerves to curl at the base of my stomach. I start the car, Lucas glances over at me.
He has one of those pretty, assuring smiles on his lips, and I try to steady my nerves.
I drive.
And drive.
In fact, I drive around the neighbourhood outside of the school for a good thirty minutes. The first ten minutes, Lucas' expression is easy, eyes on the road as the car moves. However, after about half an hour, his eyebrows fly upwards and his eyes narrow as he stares into the side of my head.
I can feel his gaze, which is why I choose to pointedly ignore it and keep looping around the area.
"Jason," he says, eyes burning into my skin.
"What?" I ask innocently, hands still gripping the wheel. We're by the juice place, somewhere that we've passed about seven times already.
"Pull over," he says.
I blink once, twice. With any other person, I would've most likely gone with a laugh and a no, but Lucas is giving me a look that makes me rethink my decision.
I pull over.
"Yeah, what?" I ask, turning over to him, my eyes refusing to stay on his for longer than half a second.
His eyebrows fly upwards, which is an obvious indication that he's fully aware of the fact that I've been going in circles for the past thirty minutes, and that it's best if I stop playing coy.
But more than that, his eyes soften when they finally catch onto mine. His hand finds my arm, soft and gentle.
"Whatever we find out doesn't matter," he says, eyes steady, "you're still Jason. You still matter. You're still important."
"To who?" I ask, because it's a question that's flitted at the back of my mind every time I sink into once of my episodes.
"Your sister," Lucas says, raising a finger as he lists her out. "The entirety of the GSA, something that didn't change after Iridescence. And your explanation didn't change the fact that they still care about you a whole lot."
Ellie had asked if it was okay for her to clear things up with the GSA. We'd eventually ended up all meeting at the diner as I let everything spill out. And before I could even finish, I was surrounded, arms around me, Monday planting a little kiss on my forehead after asking.
Then we were back to eating, the rest of the night swirling away with our laughter. And I kind of felt okay.
My mind flickers back to the presence. "Your friends," Lucas says, pushing down another finger.
He meets my eyes, a soft grin appearing on his lips. "Me."
It's one word, yet it causes both of our faces to flush.
There's a few minutes that gently pass by as I allow myself to pull myself back together. And Lucas waits. The bright sticky notes with the promise of home stare back at me from the dashboard.
And I give Lucas the most imperceptible nod, a light sparkling in his eyes as I hit the ignition and start the car.
For real this time.
***
We arrive at an average-sized house. It's quaint with a cute welcome sign hung from the front door and white paint shining beneath the sun.
It's the cutest place, yet somehow, it feels eerily scary, like one press of that bright doorbell could screw up my entire life.
But with an assuring nod towards Lucas, I press on the doorbell. There's shuffling from the house, my heart beating faster.
The door opens.
Standing at the front of it is an elderly lady. Her hair is in black— but graying—wisps, eyes careful and height relatively short. A floral dress flutters at her ankles, sandals pressed onto the doormat. She stares back at us, gaze drifting between Lucas and I before settling on me.
"Hello, ma'am." I'm certain my voice goes to a high pitch. "D-does Samel Nguyen live here?"
There's a silence. The lady blinks. Her eyes seem to gloss over. She blinks once more. "Who are you?" She asks.
I glance over at Lucas before I reply, lowly and hesitantly. "I'm his son."
The lady sucks in a breath, hand running though her hair that's tucked into a precise bun. "Why don't you come in first?"
I glance over at Lucas again, as though he's my driving force, the guardian I need permission from.
She sits across from us, offering us tea that I politely decline. I breathe again as I sink into the cushions of the couch, Lucas next to me, one arm resting on the armrest.
"So, uh," I start, hands clasping. "Samuel Nguyen? Did he live here?" A shred of hope slices through my chest, undoubtedly about to be crushed.
"He used to." The lady replies. Her hands are clasped on her laps, bare feet sinking into carpet beneath our feet.
"Did you know him?" I ask, my eyes searching hers. They're dark, a deep brown, gentle creases on her skin.
"I definitely did," She replies. Her voice is one of those gentle ones, and she's carefully serious as she answers.
The shred of hope in my chest starts to grow, excitement swirling in my lungs.
"Can you tell me about him?" I ask, "I just want to know about him, what he did, how he was like."
The lady smiles, one of those soft smiles. "He was in data science. You know, he was always interested in coding and whatnot. Even as a child." Her eyes take on a vacant expression, as though she's lost in a place far from here.
"Sam was so sweet as a kid. He kept to himself sometimes, made people wonder what was going on in that head of his. But he was kind. Respected everyone around him. Occasionally, he pulled a joke or two." She lets out a soft chuckle. "But he was such an overwhelmingly sensitive soul." Her eyes drift back to the present.
"Sensitive souls like that? Those don't come around very often. He loved animals. His mom had an immense fear of them, though, so she got him an aquarium filled with these little guppies instead." Her head tilts to the side. "He loved helping others, helping animals."
"There was a way his face lit up every time he made someone's day. That kid was always smiling. "Had the same smile you do..." She trails off.
I realize that I'm smiling.
"You know," she says, "the one that breaks out onto your lips, a signature one, really. It brightened up his entire face."
She smiles. A smile that breaks out onto her lips, one that brightens up her entire face.
My breath is stolen away as something clicks.
"Wait," I say, swallowing, "how exactly do you know my dad?"
Did. I should say, because the broken voice she spoke to me in, referring to my Dad in the past tense signifies that he's not here anymore. I don't want to think about it.
The lady's smile falters as though caught. Her eyes stay soft, though. Her voice is fragile as she says, "he's my son."
Grandma. I blink, try to scrub at my face, because this isn't happening. And her saying it in present tense just about sums it up.
"Grandma?" My head pounds, I'm shaking. The couch sinks next to me, and warm arms wrap around me. Grandma rubs small circles into my back.
"Yes," the lady—my grandmother— says, and her voice seems to finally break.
We finally pull apart, a burning question curling at my insides as my eyebrows furrow. "You were here this entire time?"
"After Sam died, I moved into the house. I— I didn't know where you or Angela were." She says, hands running through her hair.
But I can't think about any of that. All I can think about is the foster system, the days I spent alone, the violence that followed me everywhere, the pain that wrought my insides. The neglect.
Ms. Willis.
"You didn't look for me," I say, and suddenly the air feels cold. "You know what happened to me in there?" Flashes upon flashes crash down on me until I can barely hold myself up. Incredulity tugs at my insides. "And all this time, my own grandma was a few hours away."
"I didn't know where to look for you," Grandma presses, "but I never stopped caring and I—"
"You didn't bother," I say, shifting away from her, hurt dripping from my voice.
I rise to my feet.
"Wait, please," Grandma says, as though trying to grasp onto what's left of me before I'm gone. "I just want to see you and Angela again."
"Does it matter, though?" I ask, breaths coming out shaky. "Because you weren't there when it mattered."
I'm being ridiculous. You're being so fucking ridiculous, Jason. Stop being so dramatic. Stop getting so fucking angry all the time.
You're being stupid.
It shouldn't hurt this bad.
"Jason, stay. At least let me explain what happened." She scribbles her contact information on a bright sticky note, trying to thrust it into my hands.
My eyes water as I refuse to take it. "I don't want it," I say, pushing through the door as my shoulders shudder.
All this time. It finally dawns on me that she was here all this time. And I'm hurt. Hurt because my childhood was stolen from me and I never got to spend it with my grandma. Hurt because she was only a few hours away. Hurt because this information was hidden from me.
Hurt because I don't have any time left to spend with her.
Hurt because Dad's gone and she won't say it to my face.
Behind me, I can hear Lucas' footsteps come to a stop, Grandma's anguish-filled voice rising to the air. A pause. Then Lucas' footsteps near me.
"Do you want to see the other address?" Lucas asks, his voice so soft that it hurts even more.
I don't reply. My head nods. Slowly.
"Alright," Lucas slides into the drivers seat because I'm in no state to drive, and I slide into the passengers seat next to him, trying to slow my breathing. Seeing Grandma, knowing she was there. It's all too fucking much.
The house that we pull into this time is large. Larger than the other one, for sure. I can't tell whether I want to go in or not. But Lucas' concerned gaze stays on me, and I unbuckle my seatbelt, sliding out of the car.
He shuffles after me as we make our way up the front steps. I ring the doorbell for hopefully the last time today.
The door opens.
This time, a blonde man stands at the doorway, eyebrows raised, features confused. "Can I help you?"
"I think my mom, uh, I think she lives here." I run quick hands through my hair.
"Are you looking for an Anna?" The man's smile is warm if not slightly bemused. I nod because I don't trust my lips. "Anna?" He asks, calling over his shoulder.
Footsteps make their way to the front. And there's the woman from the picture. Her brown hair's straighter rather than in the playful curls they used to be in. Her eyes are still light, freckles faint, nearly gone.
At the sight of me, she pales.
Her lips part as she says, "come in. Please, come in."
With one glance towards Lucas, I make my way into the house, my mom gesturing for us to sit. Everything feels too stiff, too awkward.
"You're my mom," I say, as though hearing it out loud will convince me that it's true.
"Yes," she says, head tilting to the side.
In a blur, two toddlers run through the living room.
"Give it back, Jake!" The tiny girl calls out as the boy laughs, holding a plush elephant in his grip.
Jake comes to a slow stop when he catches sight of me. He raises both eyebrows at Anna— or Mom— or whatever it is I'm supposed to be calling her.
"Who's that?"
"This is," Anna starts gently, eyes finding mine before drifting back to her kid. My half- brother, I'm sure. "This is Jason Bruno-Nguyen."
Bruno. Somehow that part of my name fell away as soon as I was pushed into the system. It feels strange to hear it off the tip of her lips like that.
"Your son," I say, something that I realize Anna has pointedly chosen not to say.
The younger girl snatches the elephant from Jake's hands, and the chase ensues as their attention quickly shifts away from me.
"I'm so sorry for leaving you behind," Anna says. It's hard for me to avoid wincing when the words leave her lips. It makes it sound so concrete, so painfully true.
"I was devastated after Sam's passing."
There it is. The fact that he's gone, that yes, that disease did kill him, and I was absolutely fucking stupid to think it didn't.
"After Sam passed away, I— I had a rough few months." Anna continues, and I wonder exactly what 'a rough few months' is supposed to mean. "Social services didn't think I was equipped to raise two children, and I didn't, either."
For some reason, it feels like a slap across the face, and I'm not sure why.
"So, I let them take you two away. And it broke my heart," her hands rise to her chest for emphasis, I guess. "But, I got better." My eyes find the house that surround us. Better is a modest term for where she's landed.
"Did you try to get us back?" I ask, Lucas carefully glancing over at me from where she's seated.
"You know," she says, suddenly uncomfortable. "As much as you can. But gradually, I started to let go of the past."
Lucas' eyebrows fly upwards. The words ring in my mind as I try to make sense of them.
I can't.
Because she let go of us, forgot about us, pretended we didn't exist anymore. Out of sight, out of mind.
"So, basically, you moved on," I say, nodding slowly, "forgot about Dad, Angie, and I." My voice is slow.
Anna makes an attempt to protest. She doesn't seem like the carefree girl from the picture.
People change. But somehow, somehow I thought I was going to waltz into a pretty mansion and a life in which Mom and Dad were still together, Dad was still alive. Maybe I thought me and Angie would just settle right in as though nothing happened.
Maybe I thought Mom would still have the freckles on her cheeks and the grin on her lips.
I thought wrong.
"No," I continue, as though burning bridges is my hobby, "I get it." I gesture around the house. "New house, new family, new husband." The last one comes out like nails on a chalkboard. The man from before stops at the doorway, coffee in hand.
"Good on you, Mom." I say. My world feels turbulent, Lucas' hand rests on my arm, a constant support.
When I get up to leave, Anna doesn't move. She doesn't tell me to wait, to stop. She doesn't apologize, doesn't try to explain herself. Her head shakes imperceptibly, then it stops.
Somehow, that hurts more than anything.
"You have no idea what you missed out on." It's Lucas' voice. "Jason's amazing, and so is Angie. Moving forward isn't the same as forgetting the past." His voice softens. "But it's your loss, not theirs."
Then he's behind me, the door shutting behind Anna and her new life, closing the door on a world that I regret entering.
A small smile curves onto my lips as I lean against the car. "Well, today was fucking shit." I decide.
Lucas just approaches me, shaking his head. There's a remnant of redness on his face, from his slight outburst with Anna.
"That was hot." I finally decide.
There's a flush on Lucas' face again. Except this time, it's not the indignation from before, it's a shyness.
"Shut up, man." He replies, still flushed.
And it dawns on me that I do have one person that hasn't left me behind despite knowing how fucked up I am.
"Oh, so now we're back at 'man', dude?" I ask, Lucas close to me, his eyes flickering between concern and amusement.
"Yeah, ese," Lucas teases with an exaggerated deepening of his voice, something that causes the shadows in my chest to ease up. Just a bit.
I find his eyes again, a soft chuckle escaping my lips.
"And by the way," Lucas says meeting my eyes. "Today might not've worked out the way we expected it to, but I meant everything I said back there."
I laugh. But as usual, my hurt breaks through it.
"Can I kiss you?" I ask, voice soft, tentative.
"Always," Lucas replies. And my lips find his, my hands sliding though his hair, pulling him closer to me, everything moving, breaths being stolen and flying into the night sky.
And it's euphoric.
But my hurt breaks through. And all of a sudden, instead of kissing, I'm crying.
I'm crying because I miss Grandma already and she seemed genuine. I'm crying because my mom didn't want me, I'm crying because I feel too stupid and it's all too much.
"Let it all out," Lucas whispers as my face falls to the crook of his neck. My tears must be sinking through his shirt, but he doesn't move, just lets gentle hushes escape his lips, his hands carefully rubbing circles into my back.
And we stay there. All emotion and raw hurt and vulnerability.
And the wind should make me cold, but I'm able to catch my breath because Lucas is here for me.
He always is.
***
omg the emotion in this chapter :((
firstly !! i would like to say that torpe's feelings are so complicated but so important bc he's gone through terrible things and seeing his family members is overwhelming,,
so pls understand why he's feeling the way he is and why he reacts to certain things the way he does <3
also. i love u all. hope your week went well bc u deserve that ❤