Chapter Text
Awsten was having a really shítty night. It wasn't the worst he'd ever had, but it definitely wasn't the best either.
He had failed his biology test, which his mom and himself had fought over when it was still bright outside, and the movie Zakk and himself had decided to see tonight sucked. He just felt like utter shít, and he just wanted to go home. His mind was going back and forth between sadness and complete anger.
It was getting annoying. all these feelings bouncing back and forth in his head, so Awsten ultimately decided on both. It was better than dealing with them back and forth, he'd guessed. Both was good. Everything was fine.
It didn't help that Zakk's hands were practically dripping in sweat though, currently interlocked with his own. Awsten could feel himself getting extremely uncomfortable at the feeling.
"God, your hands are so sweaty. What the fück's up with that?" Awsten asked his sort-of boyfriend, gritting his teeth as they stepped out of the screening room, tossing out the empty popcorn container.
He always tended to sound bitchier than he actually was internally, just something about his tone of voice changed massively. Then again, maybe it was just because he tended to act this way around people he didn't know well - it was kind of funny in this case, really, as he'd known Zakk for a good five months now, four of them dating on and off, and he still didn't even know his favorite color.
He was always snarky, yes, but generally he didn't take himself so seriously. He didn't seem to carry himself as, well, selfish. Or quite as bratty. He knew that he really was lying, to pretty much all of his school, but it was too late to just suddenly confess to his entire school that he actually lived off welfare, and he didn't live in a fucking mansion or have any servants. Unless the rats in the two-bedroom apartment he shared with his mom counted.
"I don't know, babe. Have you ever considered maybe your hands are also sweating bullets?" Zakk asked him, chuckling. Awsten didn't understand who Zakk was, thinking it was him who was sweating like that, as Awsten was pretty sure the brown-black haired boy's fingers were getting wrinkly at this point.
"Shut up, it can't be me. I moisturize." Awsten scoffed, removing his hand from Zakk's grasp and wiping them hastily on his sweater. The only good thing about this night was his new skirt that he currently had on, along with a purple sweater. It sounded sort of pathetic, but it was accurate for today.
He'd been saving up so long for it... it was the most beautiful, perfect thing he'd ever laid his eyes on. It was blue and pleated and fitted his style so well he just assumed it was fate that they'd be together. The fifty dollars was so worth it for this piece of art, even if it was worth half of his weekly paycheck that he normally contributed to the bills. He'd been saving five bucks out of his paycheck for the last two months and finally, he'd gotten around to buying it. It was perfect.
They had turned the corner awkwardly, Awsten lost in his own thoughts, and although he'd never admit it, he was seriously just thinking about his skirt because it was the only thing preventing him from a mental breakdown at the moment.
But then, his night was officially ruined, because as soon as he turned that dastardly corner, a short stranger had crashed into him, and this short stranger in a stupid leather jacket decided to get a fücking slurpee, bright red in color and a bitch to get out of clothes. And fate decided that stupid fucking red dye #4 would spill all over his brand new, beautiful, pleated skirt.
Awsten wanted to fuckíng scream. He could feel it soaking through the material, and dripping onto his bare legs. He just stood there for a second, mouth wide open in shock. Why? Why did god hate him?
The stranger opened his mouth, stepping back in shock. "I'd watch where you were going if I were you." He laughed awkwardly. Awsten felt his face get bright red, mouth still hanging open.
A wave of pure rage washed over him. Part of Awsten knew that it wasn't exactly the kid's fault, but before he could really think, his right arm was in the air and already heading towards the punk boy's left eye, and there was no stopping it. Awsten felt his fist and the boy's eye connect, which admittedly hurt him, a lot. He was definitely going to have some bruises on his knuckles in a day or so. There he goes, another selfish thought. He really needed to work on that.
The boy's body jumped back as they collided, but it was really all too fast to pay attention to every little detail of his reaction. All Awsten knew was that it hurt like a bitch, but not as much as the other guy's face, he'd imagine. Adrenaline filled his body from head to toe. He quickly pulled back his fist and coughed for a second.
"Ow! What the hell?!" The guy screamed, holding his hand over his already-bruising eye. Awsten locked eyes - eye? - with him and smiled awkwardly. He actually felt really bad. The blue-eyed boy just seriously fuckęd up the best article of clothing he'd ever laid his eyes on, but it wasn't really his fault, was it? He supposed it was just far easier to blame it on the guy in the leather jacket than the inconvenience that was life.
"Yeah, seriously, what the fück, Awsten?!" It was Zakk's voice now, filling the near empty room. Awsten just wished he would shut the fuck up. He couldn't control his own words anymore, he'd had a moment of realization but that was over. His body was filled with anger once again, and he wouldn't hit Zakk, but god knows he would nearly kill his own vocal chords.
"He totally ruined my skirt! This has been a really shítty night and that was all that was cheering me the fuçk up! He had to spill his weird sugary drink all over it and now I have to-," Awsten paused, nearly saying 'save up for it again', but continued with a facade that he had created for himself when he'd moved here freshman year, "-get my dad to buy me a new one! Goddamnit!"
"Oh shut the fuçk up," Zakk yelled, arms crossed now, completely ignoring the boy who'd caused this in the first place whom was watching intently, "You're so fucking spoiled, a fuçking brat! I liked you a lot and I am not an aggressive person but you fuckíng piss me off! You're nothing but selfish and bratty!"
"I uh, agree with that last statement." The light-brown haired problem-creator said quietly, but loud enough for Awsten to hear. He quickly turned his head, blue hair flipping quickly. "Fuck. Off." Was all that came out of his mouth. He was pissed, and yeah, he felt a sliver of remorse, but this? This was none of that kid's goddamn business.
The boy complied, and Awsten felt his eyes move away from him. He could also hear him mutter something along the lines of "gladly, ašshole," but Awsten was too busy with Zakk to go off on the stranger at the moment.
"If you feel that way, then why the fuçk are we even together?" Awsten screamed, feeling his nails dig into the palm of his own hands.
"I don't fuckíng know! I thought I liked you! But not anymore, you fuckíng asshole!" Zakk replied, now just as angry as Awsten.
"I'm fuckíng done! It's over! Goodbye, asshole!" Awsten screamed before he bit his lip and crossed his arms, but only after flipping Zakk off and storming outside. But then, a wave of realization came across him... they were ten miles away from his house and Zakk was his only source of transportation. Fuck.
When Zakk came outside, him and Awsten shared a look. Zakk knew the look. The angry tension was still there, but the boys were still friends, and so Zakk drove him to what Zakk believed was Awsten's house, the vibe never leaving the vehicle as Awsten wiped the sticky red substance off his skirt, or at least tried to. There was still a bright red stain on the front that was going to be impossible to wash out. He refrained himself from making a period joke aloud as a coping mechanism. It was more difficult for him than one might think.
Awsten only muttered a slightly passive aggressive "thank you" as he stepped out of the truck. He was two blocks away from his apartment complex. He looked up at the house before him. It was big. He wished he lived there, where Zakk and everyone else thought he lived. It was all a lie. A really fuckíng stupid lie that got all that much out of hand.
He ran to his cheap apartment complex. The place could barely afford a damn pool. It was so obviously sad, and even with the sun completely set, he could physically see the depressing vibe radiate off of it. He sighed out loud, embracing the feeling of his lungs filling with air and releasing as a method of reducing his anxiety. He held onto that feeling until he walked up the stairs and through the door, into the kitchen.
He assumed that his mom would be asleep, but no. There she was, sitting at the island, eating a bowl of cereal, her giant stomach sticking out. Awsten's two-toned, hazelish eyes couldn't exactly comprehend what types of cereal were in there, as it was extremely dim. He could see some captain crunch, that was for sure, but what other cereal was it mixed in with this time?
"How was the movie?" She asked, smiling with a mouth full of the weird mix of breakfast cereal. It was like, midnight.
Awsten's eyes squinted in an attempt to figure out the other cereal. Cocoa Puffs, that's what it was. Nasty.
"It was okay." Awsten lied. He hung his keys on a hook to the right of him before walking towards the hallway, stopping in the doorway and turning back towards his mom. "Pregnancy cravings?" He'd asked.
His mom nodded her head in response. "I'm burnt out, G'night mom. Love you." He smiled before continuing down the hall to his room. He shut the door behind him and let all his sadness wash over his body.
He hurt, a lot. Even if Zakk and him weren't close, breakups still fuckíng sucked. He let himself cry. It felt good. It hurt, but it was a good feeling, releasing all of the tension building up inside of him. At least it would be another week before having to talk to Zakk. Thanks, spring break.
He really did regret breaking up with him. Obviously, they weren't in love. They were barely boyfriends. But Awsten believed there was some sort of possibility of a future there. Maybe. Maybe now they'd never know. He just decided to slip off his clothes, into his boxers before tossing the sweater and skirt into his laundry basket and collapse onto his bed, letting sleep take him where feelings didn't exist.