‘ Shifting the Sands. Hotter then Hell. Upon her lips, teardrops fell.Through the serpentine flame, I screamed her name, but she never WOKE UP! ’
❝Points to you, I have no fucking idea what you’re talking about, Mister Christiansen,❞ he shifts uncomfortably. Perhaps that was Joseph’s goal though: to make Ernest uncomfortable. Fine, then, two could play that game. ❝Did you fuck her? Did you fuck the corpse?❞ perhaps that was a bit too far, whatever. He raises an eyebrow, looking at him almost earnestly.
ERNEST KNEW —— & DEEP DOWN, lucien knew it too; regardless he’s taken aback by UNFORESEEN flow of tears. bewildered that ernest (the egotistical fuck-er), arrogant and typically composed (hah), had a soul to speak of. “ —— woah.. „ slips far beyond his reach, his CONTROL —— and it isn’t until the following seconds that lucien recognizes how STUPID this is, jeopardizing their friendship for something so MORONIC like a dog. at least ernest was happier like that, he loved dogs, right? he wouldn’t even MISS him, he didn’t need him.. lucien knew that he didn’t, like everybody else. “ i-.. i’m sorry for punching you, but at least you’ll look tough, like you have some ba- ! „ cuts himself short, poorly worded on his behalf——
lucien barley knows anything about comforting ANYBODY, but particularly ernest —— he reflects unto how damien did it, like when he was scared of the dark, or like.. THE DARK. it was harder than it looked.. “ hey look, it’s- it’s cool y’know? like if you got a dog i wouldn’t care, it’s totally cool! „ at least while he could BREATHE —— “ i could.. skype you, or something stupid like that. „
FOR GOD’S SAKE, LUCIEN WAS HIS BEST FRIEND, if not his only friend. It was something he’d NEVER admit to, though it was always extremely obvious to everyone that the kids he hung around for the most part, tended to be annoyed by his company and wanted him GONE. But those were his friends, right? At least when he was hanging around people other than Lucien. Nobody wanted to befriend the angry kid, nor the one who was the son of their TEACHER, at that. God KNOWS what Ernest tells his father when their backs are turned (nothing.) He needed Lucien more than he’d EVER admit, he was the only one willing to stick though anything with him, and it meant more to Ernest than he could ever imagine. To this, he could say FUCK having a dog, at least for right now. He couldn’t risk losing Lucien’s friendship yet, if ever, no matter how BADLY he wanted a dog. That could wait, if Hugo would ever say yes.
❝— NeverMIND,❞ he’d speak, once he could breathe somewhat properly. ❝I doubt Hugo w– would… Whatever. I think I wanna have you stick around, I guess,❞ he pauses sniffling. God, this was embarrassing. ❝I’m sorry for biting you. I didn’t mean it.❞
——————- 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.❞
❛ 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.❞
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.
SELFISH, STUPID LUCIEN —— AND UGLY, VACUOUS ERNEST. he hated him, this feeling of HELPLESSNESS, ernest (yet again) getting the best of him —— the curve of his KNUCKLE thrusts (hard) into the socket of ernest’s eye, his teeth SPLITTING open lucien’s skin like a blade to butter. eliciting a SHARP cry of pain as he tumbles over ernest and into the floor, squeezing his (bleeding) arm close to his chest. “ —— YOU ANIMAL. „ well at least his blood contrasted NICELY against his porcelain complexion, however presently there were more URGENT affairs —— like how he was to stop the bleeding at his forearm, then kill ernest. of fucking course he was willing to rot in prison. “ you COCK - SUCKER, i’m going to tell HUGO and by the time my DAD gets to you, you’re going to be SO fucking dead! „
—– THAT WAS SURELY GOING TO LEAVE A BLACK EYE. He crumples into himself, hands desperately grasping at his own face as he TREMBLED with pain. TOO FAR, this has gone WAY TOO FAR and both of them fucking KNEW IT. Quivering, he could feel himself BARELY HOLDING BACK a sob. His face burned– this entire face burned and it was Lucien’s fault and he was going to make him pay for what he’s done if it fucking KILLED him. This bastard– this insufferable bastard got worked up just at the mere THOUGHT of Ernest bettering himself somehow. But like HELL that would be happening again, fuck no. CLEARLY, this wasn’t worth it. He jolts upright, hissing as hot tears rolled down reddened cheeks, eye socket already swelling. He’d be feeling that in the morning. ❝YEAH?! YOU THINK YOU’RE FUCKING BIG, HUH?! YOU THINK THAT TELLING HUGO OR YOUR DAD WILL CHANGE THE FACT THAT YOU ATTACKED ME FIRST, HUH?! YOU’RE A FUCKING COWARD! I HOPE YOU DIE!! I HOPE YOU FUCKING KILL YOURSELF, LUCIEN!❞
“ —— ..are you implying that my dad is a FAKE BITCH too? „ absence of anger, but HURT in its stead, his fingers trashing VIOLENTLY against ernest’s cranium —— and somehow, in the heat of things, he’s bitten down (hard) against lucien’s arm eliciting a cry of PAIN from the PUNK, boring holes into the back of his (ex) friend’s skull. “ YOU TAKE BACK WHAT YOU JUST SAID, ASSHOLE! „ the teeth at his flesh was certainly a problem, but the least of his worries. whatever chance they had at making things RIGHT, to reconcilewas ruined, lucien wouldn’t stand for ANYBODY talking trash about his dad and ernest was NO exception to that rule —— “ I HATE YOU, FUCK YOU- my dad is NOT a fake bitch, do you fucking hear me? „
Ernest hadn’t even taken into CONSIDERATION the fact that Lucien’s dad also shops at Dead, Goth, and Beyond. Usually, he’d only seen other teenagers there ( and dear God, did they always seem pretentious ) plus, the fact that Lucien was pinning him into the cushion only served to deter his ability to use and common sense he had to BEGIN with. He doesn’t let go– Ernest’s aim NOW to break flesh. He didn’t care. He didn’t CARE that Damien shopped at Dead, Goth, and Beyond, any further than the fact that his son was the biggest piece of pretentious shit and the world and he HATED HIM. Like hell he’d apologize to SELFISH, STUPID LUCIEN. He’d ignore the heat in his face, the fire in his eyes in favor of wondering why he couldn’t make the world disappear.
no mercy, REMORSE —— none for ernest, not TODAY, not EVER again. lucien drove his knee deeper into his back, his repetitive wriggling making it HARDER to.. well NOT tumble into the floor, which was the last thing he needed. “ fuck you, FUCK YOU —— ! „ taunted lucien. “ i’ll beat the SHIT outta you, i HATE you ernest! I HATE YOU, you fucking IDIOT! you look like an eighties PORN STAR! „
❝At least I don’t buy my clothes from Dead, Goth, and Beyond like some kinda fake bitch!❞ that’s right. Stick it to the man. He buys his clothes from Macy’s. ❝You should of been caught by the cops! You should be in fucking jail right now! I HATE YOU SO FUCKING MUCH! Get OFF, GET OFF RIGHT NOW, I’LL GET HUGO!❞ the pressure applied to his back was beginning to hurt, but he wasn’t gonna chicken and tap out like some PUSSY, nor would he even mention it further than the fact that he just want Lucien OFF. Managing to turn his head further ( his hair being yanked even HARDER ), he opens his mouth and BITES DOWN on Lucien’s forearm RELENTLESSLY.
