——————- Mary side-eyes the young boy the entire Barbecue. He stood in the corner of the yard, hands shoved in his hoodie pockets bitterly. Something Robert had told her awhile back had stuck to the back of her mind, and curiosity had set into her for days. She cuts through the small crowd of pun sharing dads and children playing pretend to stand in front of him, hands on her hips and she analyzed him.
“Did you try to fight that man over there outside of a Movie Theater?” She asks, pointing at Robert across the yard who was talking happily with Damien.
He turns and slowly looks at her with a complete lack on INTEREST. A cigarette hung from between chapped lips, which he quickly took between his middle and index finger and blowing out the smoke. From the looks of it, this woman probably wouldn’t CARE about that. Blinking slowly, he turns his head to whom Mary, watching Robert chit-chat along with Lucien’s dad on the other side of the yard.
Ernest remembered that night. Fuck him and his stupid boxing rules and interrupting the movie he SO BADLY wanted to watch. ❝Yeah,❞ finally, this kid says something. ❝He was being a bitch.❞
GO AWAY. god i really need to like… decide what ernest’s ‘fun weekend dad’ is like. like obv hes the preferred dad and has limited joint custody and probably lets ernest get away w whatever he wants but rn im just 🤔
❛ everybody dies. every single person. so, style counts. ❜
He’d roll his eyes at the sentiment. Not that it was GOOD sentiment to begin with. ❝Yeah, maybe to you with your cakey foundation and eyeliner thicker than ass,❞ he’d reply. ❝The only thing that matters is GOOD KUSH.❞
GO AWAY. god i really need to like… decide what ernest’s ‘fun weekend dad’ is like. like obv hes the preferred dad and has limited joint custody and probably lets ernest get away w whatever he wants but rn im just 🤔
❛ we buried truth under playgrounds. ❜ ❛ it’s hard to get rid of people who don’t know you hate them. ❜ ❛ you make me want to pretend to be a better man. ❜ ❛ those who can, do. those who can’t apparently run this fucking place. ❜ ❛ live and learn, or die and teach by example. ❜ ❛ there should be a word for the things we do not because we want to, but because we want to be the kind of person that wants to. ❜ ❛ you won’t live forever in their memories. the way you treated them will. ❜ ❛ one day i’ll be me. ❜ ❛ nobody dies before their time. that’s what ‘ their time ’ means. ❜ ❛ some people aren’t books, they’re poems. ❜ ❛ there’s a darkness on the edge of town. ❜ ❛ it’s time to make yourself proud and everyone else a little nervous. ❜ ❛ i’m tired of being my best. ❜ ❛ if i could have just one wish, i would probably screw it up. ❜ ❛ my resolution this year is to buy a dog and practice loving something back. ❜ ❛ you’re too pretty to stab me in the face with that knife. ❜ ❛ can we be friends? i would try to be a good friend. ❜ ❛ nothing matters at all. might as well be nice to people. ❜ ❛ what sounds better? revenge or popcorn? ❜ ❛ it is easier to ask forgiveness than permission. ❜ ❛ i hear smashing glass in my head, every time i laugh. ❜ ❛ i would sell my soul for a soul worth keeping. ❜ ❛ follow your horrible little heart! ❜ ❛ who has time for perfection? ❜ ❛ i don’t believe each person has just one true love, but sometimes we don’t have enough time to find another. ❜ ❛ i fought my way into this world. i’ll fight my way out. ❜ ❛ you are never so low you deserve to be lower. ❜ ❛ when you look down at people, don’t you want to help them up? ❜ ❛ well, i don’t like any of those things, but i like you. ❜ ❛ i’m the best there is at what i do, and what i do is think about my mistakes. ❜ ❛ the worst person you can think of gets scared sometimes too. ❜ ❛ everybody dies. every single person. so, style counts. ❜ ❛ if poetry could describe the way you make me feel poetry would be illegal. ❜ ❛ did it hurt? when you clawed your way up from the depths of hell? ❜
all for the better, he was already UGLY —— and no sum of concealer could hide that prepubescent FUZZ of his. at least he looked COOL sporting a black eye like he had some fuckin’ balls —— his hand clasped TIGHTLY, over tattered flesh applying pressure accordingly to his wound before kicking at ernest from where he lie (defenseless) at his feet. “ I AM NOT A COWARD! „ he wasn’t, was he —— ? I HOPE YOU DIE!! I HOPE YOU FUCKING KILL YOURSELF, LUCIEN! they fell so burdensome upon his CONSCIOUSNESS, for only a moment lucien stares, lost in ernest’s FIERY gaze and for lack of better words, turns away. “ you’d like that, i knew it, but i didn’t want you to say it.. „ I HOPE YOU FUCKING KILL YOURSELF, LUCIEN.
“ —— well fine then. „ he didn’t WANT ernest, he needed him —— his STUPID fucking text - messages at four AM, like when he confides in him (much to ernest’s irritation)and shit, who would he hang out with now? fuck —— “ i never fucking liked you anyway, your dad either and i hope that your hair fucking falls out, like that you have to wear a toupee for a remainder of your fucking PATHETIC life! „
ERNEST KNEW WHAT HE WAS SAYING WASN’T TRUE. Lucien is his best FRIEND– his ONLY friend. WAS, more of, as things between them were most completely and obviously OVER, of course, over a STUPID-ASS REASON that they BOTH could of easily predicted it would be. But SHIT, things were too late, now from the looks of it, not that EITHER of them were the best at immediately making up or even realizing they shouldn’t be fighting in the first place. Deep down, they both KNEW that this would be the result, and Ernest especially knew that BOTH of them had too much pride to just STOP, regardless of what it was. But that wouldn’t stop him from openly crying now– something Ernest DETESTED more than anything. That was reserved for when he locked himself in his room at three in the morning and he KNEW Hugo was asleep and wouldn’t hear him, so it was okay and nobody had to know that he was hurting. Now Lucien had to witness this ( yet again ) as Ernest desperately wiped at bleary eyes, gross sobs escaping his throat.
❝— SHUT THE FUCK UP! ❞ and still, he would not apologize.
