Chapter Text
Rumination: the cognitive process of repeating obsessive, distressing thoughts, centered around negative emotions and anxieties. While all humans—regardless of mental state— do this, it is considered more frequent and distressing for individuals with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder.
That was what the child psychologist had said. And what the therapist had said. And what the American Psychological Association Website probably says. And—
People with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder use rumination as a coping strategy so they stop thinking about their repeating thoughts.
It's a mental compulsion to when individuals face a distressing, uncomfortable thought that no one would want. Think of it like a battle tactic.
Does that sound like you, Nox?
It didn't sound like him. It is him.
Anyway, people who ruminate are fucking stupid and need to touch grass.
That is definitely not a professional opinion, and if it was, his old psychiatrist would've gotten fired for saying that to a ten year old.
It was Nox Durand's opinion.
First it was counting, but that didn't seem to do much. It never did.
So he goes back to the next best thing: ruminating. Being stuck in his thoughts was—and is— comfortable.
Suffocating, but comfortable, like thinking hard enough could change the outcome, predict what comes next.
And that was how he's ended up here. Not…here as in literally here. He isn't really anywhere, not while he's ruminating.
More literally, he's sitting in the backseat of a 2024 Maserati Ghibli that smells like the vanilla extract Nox had spilled on the floor of his baking class freshman year.
Nox refused to take shotgun, even after his ecstatic, slightly insufferable new step-sibling, dubbed Goldie by his siblings but more literally known as Aurelius—had dimmed himself down just to ask. He'd been elbowing his older brother Bronte to let him get the hint.
Bronte let out a snore, exhaling, "Wha— oh yeah, take it dude," and forcing himself to stand upright, and not like a character out of Plants vs. Zombies. He got up, back cracking as he straightened, floored to the pavement with some poise. He ushered him towards the front seat.
Nox had shaken his head, opting to take the much safer backseat, specifically, the middle seat, because everyone knew that was how to avoid impact in case of an accident.
He's tired of being a burden, like he has been all day, being the youngest and all, so he doesn't yell at Aurelius to drive slower. As they zip past the empty countryside, he can make out lush, rich fields that made up his new home.
The sun shines brightly in the late afternoon drive to the Lucreta Manor, the weather a complete alternate to how he feels internally: like a rain cloud is mounted above his head.
He tries to hold back yelling at Aurelius, a million curses resting on the tip of his tongue. The speakers played the insufferable alt-pop band, Imagine Dragons, though the newly-booted Bose speakers according to Goldie. They must've cost a fortune.
That's right: his new step-siblings were rich.
Seated in the front seat is Bronte Lucreta, shaking his head at his younger sibling's horrible, gym teacher music taste. He makes a mental note to ask Bronte what he listens to—No, we're not talking to him, Nox. At his sides are his step sisters, Violet and Silvia. They sit a comfortable distance away from him, enough for Nox not to feel his skin prickle and burn.
He takes a deep breath in, trying to relax and feel the dim light of the tinted window come towards him and fade into nothingness. He doesn't want to think about the calamity of the wedding his mother agreed to with a man so old he could've been a wax dummy.
Guess she was into older men over the last few years.
No, better yet—her new husband was so old he could've been embalmed and dead years ago and no one would be able to tell the— not that…Nox wants him dead.
Oh my god, I don't actually want him to die. Right. Right? I don't hate him that much. I'm not a serial killer for thinking that rig—
Nox exhales a breath out, trying to drown out the thought, and even more, tries to forget the fit he had angrily thrown at the wedding.
His brain feels like a wire, crackling with signals, carrying bolts of electricity as the input replays over and over.
He can hear his mother's voice, her soft french accent littered with hits of sarcasm, a snort and a sneer as she speaks to her new husband—undoubtedly about her son—with his father's eyes and raven-feathered hair of his mother's.
Except his is unkempt, messy, and furiously childish. His blue eyes were too blinding, a reminder of the man who broke her heart.
No doubt, she's shown more care for William Lucreta Jr more in the span of six months than she has cared for Nox in his sixteen years of living.
Not that she'd outwardly admit it.
But that didn't mean Nox should be wishing he's dea— but he didn't wish that he was dead! He just— he wasn't a serial killer! And—
Who am I even talking to?
Stop it.
She's left behind at the wedding ceremony, helping clean up, like the responsible Durand she was, there to pay the orchestra and among the other assistants of the ceremony, and most of all, apologize for the humiliating damages of Nox Durand.
Whatever he did wasn't even that bad! She just loves to weaponize everything.
Yeah, he had— sort of…booed them as they tied the knot a little too loudly, causing his step-siblings—who frankly, just came off as annoying know-it-alls—to gasp collectively. Silvia had profusely apologized, throwing Nox a—glare? A disapproving frown?
Whatever it was, Nox didn't like it.
After that, Nox had gotten up, eyes prickling with angry tears before he got up to abruptly walk back to the vanity room attached to the wedding venue within the eyes of the quaint, dignified audience. Nox had ignored the cheers so he wouldn't scream.
And he also ignored the prying eyes burning the back of his neck.
He had angrily kicked off his coat before groaning as loud as he could muster, hoping it would be enough to declare his frustrations.
What was wrong with him?
He could already hear his mother's voice: 'He was feeling a little OCD. He does this all the time. Ouais, get used to it, mon cherie.'
It doesn't even have anything to do with that! And— he's just as angry as any teenager would be if their mother married a rich guy and left him in the dust.
And no, he doesn't want to hear any bullshit about true love that adults loved to throw around. This entire thing was stupid.
And he's also just as angry as someone would be if he was moved an entire county down, even if it meant he wouldn't be bullied anymore…but he doesn't like change!
He doesn't want any of this.
Actually, Mother, I was bound to explode, just as any angsty emo teenager would've done, but I would've ruined my eyeliner and I think that would've made me even more angrier because I didn't want to look extra emo™.
Why couldn't it just be the two of them? Even if…she didn't exactly care for him like he would've wanted? He just wanted to be alone forever.
Nox squeezes his clenched fists before exhaling a breath. His thoughts silence momentarily as he unpauses his music with a button on the side of his headphones.
He'd left his music paused despite the fact that his stepbrother blasted freaking Imagine Dragons, just so he could make sure he wasn't being talked about in the same car.
But would they really— Yes, they would. Everyone always does.
His music is loud enough, even if it won't drown out the way his white button up sticks to his neck and the way his coat lies rumpled in his lap, the pressure all too suffocating.
Despite all my rage,
I am still just a—!
A tap against his shoulders makes him jump out of his skin, and prompts him to throw his headphones off. A part of him feels like he must be nice to his step-siblings who he embarrassed at that wedding ceremony. Another part of him feels this close to angrily shoving off his stepsister, Silvia. But he stops himself, hoping the sudden gesture communicated that much frustration.
"What?" He huffs.
"My brother— sorry, Bronte and I thought we'd tell you…your new high school has requested the tour to be today. Their schedule is already very packed with other tour days for freshmen and new students. It's also why I requested for us to leave early, but…I wasn't sure how we'd break the news. Sorry if it's abrupt."
He could've sworn the tour was on August fourteenth— oh. That was today.
Wonderful. He's lost track of time again.
Violet sighs, her purple-streaked hair falling across her high cheekbones as she fiddles with strands. Her flowing, mauve bridesmaid's dress looks stunning, and Nox admires how the fabric drapes, because he is certain of what exact sewing technique could've resulted in it, but he doesn't want to go on a random ramble, and he's supposed to be angry with her, so he hasn't complimented her on it yet.
Meanwhile, as much as he wants to angrily explode at Silvia, he stares down traces of concealer creasing on her dark circles, and with the way her green bridesmaid dress is slumping down on her frame, she looks just as tired as he feels.
Maybe…his siblings were just really good at hiding things. Hope sparks up his spine, but he bites his tongue before he can ask Goldie— wait, he's not reverting to calling his siblings nicknames already—and Bronte how they felt about the ceremony. "Nox?" Bronte calls from the front passenger seat. "The tour isn't until evening, so there's time to get ready. I think your stuff is already in your room now thanks to Lorah, our maid."
"O-okay. That's chill with me. Thanks, I guess." He tries to let his anger fade as he exhales in relief. The more he tries to affirm himself, the smaller the anger feels.
Now he just feels bad, frustration forgotten just as quickly.
Violet taps him on the shoulder again before he can put his headphones back on. "Not to bother you again, Nox, but I can show you to your room. It's hard to navigate." She offers him a soft smile that he awkwardly returns.
He checks his phone, and sure enough, it's four thirty by the time they start pulling in to a gated property, the doors automatically unlocking as Aurelius flicks a remote in the direction of the steel gates. He grins. "Don't worry Nox. You'll have a spare if you ever need to come home later, whenever you join the clubs that Sugar Springs High School has."
Goldie annoys him the most. How can anyone be this cheerful? And hopeful? Who said he was to join any clubs? He just wanted to survive junior year, wanted to get away with rotting in silence so he wouldn't get targeted by any kids who wanted to make his life a living hell.
After all, it was annoying eat school lunch in the bathroom stall. And being barked at wasn't very fun either.
Whatever.
The car jolts to a stop outside a parking garage that looks like it could fit at least three other cars. Goldie hums contently, his coat loosened, his blond hair so perfect that not even a strand has fallen out of place.
Nox is tempted to compliment her over and over again, but he stops himself. She's so cool. Well, for a step-sibling. Or any sibling, for that matter. Not that…he's had anyone to compare her to.
Violet nods, elegantly stepping one high heel after the other to get out of the backseat. Bronte sighs, slumping forward, untying his man bun. His copper streaked hair falls down to his shoulders, the same way it had at the same engagement dinner three months ago.
Nox had only paid attention to his hair then. The simplicity of sights were the only thing that willed him not to explode, the only thing to keep him grounded.
Aurelius hands Nox the keys. "Welcome home, my new brother! Would you have the honor of leading us inside first?" He throws a hopeful smile in his direction, and Nox tenses.
This isn't his house, not the one he's always known. With a thin lipped smile, he shakes his head. "Nah." When he looks down, Silvia makes a flattening motion towards Aurelius with her palm, shaking her head as if to tell him, 'Dim down, just for today.'
Aurelius lowers his voice. "Alright. Here we are."
Of course, Nox has been here before…well, once, but he's always awestruck with how big it is.
The maid—Lorah, Nox was told her name was—greets them with the pace of a motherly figure he wasn't quite used to. He'd seen her last engagement dinner, but now, she seemed just as ecstatic and formal. "Your parents have told me to inform you that they will be back only after three hours. Nox, right? Your mother told me to make you feel welcome. Your stuff is in your room, and I will help unpack as per your guidelines. You have that cleanliness thing, righ—"
She's leaning close until her bright blue eyes meet Nox's soft blue ones. Jeez lady, get some contacts. He cowers against the wall.
Bronte coughs, catching a wind of how Nox's face twists at the word choice and how he's backing against the wall. He rolls his eyes very obviously, cautiously pulling her away. "Lorah, the kid's okay. I think Vi's got him covered, 'kay?"
"Y-yeah. I'm okay, Madame Lorah. Thanks, Bronte."
Lorah smiles. "Just Lorah is fine. I'm always in your debt. Welcome to the Lucreta family."
The way she says those words feels like a gift and a curse all at once, and he's overwhelmed by how much money he's surrounded by.
Does this mean I can go to infinite local shows and mooch off my maman's new sugar daddy?
Wait, what type of local shows are you going to find in a loser town like Sugar Springs?
A mental image of a bunch of boomer metal heads slamming their heads up and down and breaking a hip with the exertion forms in his mind, and he snorts out loud.
Hell yeah.
Violet seems to catch his snort, and she grins.
Great. So much for my mysterious emo youngest sibling act.
Silvia sighs. "I'm exhausted. Wanna look around with me 'fore I leave in a few days, bro?" She motions to a hallway downstairs. Bronte nods.
Goldie smiles as he's left alone with Lorah in the large entrance. "Do we have snacks? I need to get back to packing for college."
She jumps. "Ah, right!"
Violet looks to him. "Let's go to your room."
─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───
Nox tries to act like he's not huffing and puffing as he walks up the twenty million stairs. Violet remains her same level of elegance as they walk into an even longer hallway until they finally turn to the left. "Here's your room."
Sure enough, their rooms are connected. Violet pushes open the door. She smiles. "See that knob? You can lock it on your side, and then I won't be able to open it unless both sides are unlocked. Don't worry, I have another entrance out. Just how this house is built."
"Weird." His eyes move to the pile of suitcases in the corner. He reaches for those.
Violet softly laughs as he reaches for his larger suitcase of clothes. "You like sewing, huh?" She eyes a small sewing bag with multiple needles poking out of it, thread flowing down its sides.
"Yeah. Ha."
"I could've done it as a career, but I wasn't that amazing. So I chose law."
He doesn't really want to get close. But he's naive and stupid, so he blurts, "Wait, so how old are you?"
"I'm twenty-five." She laughs at the bewildered expression on Nox's face. "I'm the oldest out of all of us. And you?"
"I- I'm turning seventeen in December." He fiddles with his sewing bag, staring at the empty walls.
His eyes dart towards a large work table and he reaches for the left drawer to put his sewing kit away in. Eye contact makes him uncomfortable, so the motion is deliberate.
She sighs. "A junior, huh? Worst school year. I mean— wait…sorry. I'm not trying to scare you. I think I made it harder on myself, if anything. I pushed myself because it gave myself a sense of righteousness over my father and other kids at my school. B-but I did enjoy those subjects. Sorry— I just think…we'd get along a lot better if we share things out loud like this." Violet chews on her lip.
The split second that she falters makes Nox feel comfortable, somehow. She's trying.
He turns to look at her again, reaching for his bag that he'd put his posters and stuffed animals among his toiletries. "It's fine." He looks around the large bedroom, the four poster bed, and another door that he reluctantly creaks open— "I…get my own bathroom?"
Fuck. He's really bad at hiding his true emotions. He doesn't open up this easily, and he holds grudges because he hates everyone—
Does he though? Or is he just angry?
It's been three months since he's met his step siblings. Maybe it's time for him to let go of his grudge.
She smiles. "Yeah."
Although he's more than content, dread creeps up on him. Right. He had things to do. "That's— cool. Wait, I'll change first, since we're leaving in an hour."
He zips open his second suitcase of clothes, reaching for a black tank top that he embroidered himself and his cargo shorts that he's desperately attached to.
It couldn't hurt to add a belt or two to his outfit. He reaches for the suitcase again before zipping it up.
She calls behind him as he walks towards his bathroom, "Oh yeah, by the way, Silvia and Bronte can drop you off. They have business there."
Nox throws a nod in her direction before walking into the bathroom.
He rips off his button up as soon as the last button is freed, sighing in relief as his skin is exposed to the cool air of the bathroom. It smells like lavender, not overpowering like the vanilla of Goldie's car, and he inhales contently.
He tries not to linger on the limpness of his limbs, but does linger on his own lithe, long hands. They're the only part of his body that he really likes.
And he really likes My Chemical Romance. He doesn't even care if his new tour guides use it as an excuse to prod and tease him about it. In fact, Nox had stopped caring about that idle teasing long ago, and he's proud of his shirt.
Nox doesn't bother to take off his eyeliner. He'd take it off later—if he remembered.
And if he forgot, it didn't matter because it definitely already started to leech into his brain because of how long he'd been using it for.
He comes out of the bathroom, fully changed.
The door between their rooms now propped wide open, comfortably inviting. Violet's taken her makeup off, now in pajamas and a hoodie.
She yawns. "Dude. I think this calls for a nap before dinner. Fuck this." He almost— almost laughs at how informal she's gotten. "Also, I think I'd tell you that Bronte is your high school janitor. Whatever you do, don't tell Dad about it. Silvia is coming up to check on her English classroom early."
"What does my stepfather have to do with Bronte's job?"
She snorts. "Do you really think he'd be happy if a Lucreta child was a school janitor? He thinks Bronte is doing a little internship with Silvia in the High School Math Department as a TA, when in reality, he's working at an arcade with his girlfriend and working part time as a janitor for money to move out."
Woahwoahwoah, crazy lore drop. Does she really trust him that much to just say all that. And aren't they already—
Nox wrinkles his nose, as to say, but you guys are already rich, she reads his mind. "Yeah, yeah, I know. It's not that we don't have the money. Just— he wouldn't give Bronte money for idle dreams. Silvia doesn't make nearly enough as an English teacher for Bronte to move out with her. And neither do I. I'm still a student paying for law school, and I don't have time to work."
Now he feels stupid for assuming that all the Lucreta siblings (minus Bronte) were stuck-up rich kids.
Okay, but Violet's Victoria Secret pajamas must've cost a fortune. The curse of being born with a silver spoon in your mouth.
That little voice screams at him to open up, to stop being so uptight, like his mother would've said.
There's a knock at the door before Nox can think to summon a somewhat-insightful response to that lore drop. He feels like he has to say something.
It's Bronte. "Sil says we gotta go now. C'mon Nox."
He sighs. "Okay." He waves to Violet and shuts his bedroom door behind him.
They take a different car this time. Silvia's Volkswagen Beetle is comfortable and quaint.
This time, his brain tells him sitting in the middle isn't necessary. He does kinda like the window seat when his brain isn't making him paranoid. Right now, he feels fine, wants to lean against the seat and let the sun fall on him as he listens to musi— And his phone is dead.
Wonderful.
He stares out the window as Laufey plays on Silvia's speakers. She hums. It's nice. Quiet.
Bronte elbows her. "Dude. I wanna have aux!" He reaches for her phone in the holder, and they scramble at a stop light, and she shrieks.
"Do whatever, asshole." She huffs. "As long as it's not like, the Corpse of Cannibals—"
Okay, he lied. Now that he's less mad after a long car ride of thinking and a somewhat interesting conversation, he rules out that Bronte is actually kinda cool, even if his dad is a complete douche. That sounds kinda like—
Nox thinks back to what Violet had told him about Bronte. He was like the black sheep of the family, or something.
"Erm, actually, it's Cannibal Corpse. And I wanna groove out to Sublime right now. I'll listen to that on my own time since you're such a hater." Nox holds back a laugh. That's the only death metal band he knows from that one cute girl sophomore year. Bronte turns around. "You okay with Sublime?"
Nox shrugs and looks back out the window as they approach 'the most downtown Sugar Springs would ever get' according to that one Reddit thread.
Okay, but he does kind of like Badfish. It's a calming song.
They cruise by the shops, quaint, small, and often run down, paint peeling and awnings ripped.
Past the downtown—if you'd even call it a downtown—he can see an approaching, large green field. "Ooh, the football field. I dated a dude off the soccer team. Never again." Bronte turns around. "Watch out, gay boy. Or you're going to get played and sob to Conan Gray for three weeks straight."
He chokes on his own spit. "Wha—"
Silvia elbows Bronte. "Way to make our new sibling feel welcome."
Nox rolls his eyes. "For your information, I'm actually pansexual, not gay. And 'm not that desperate." I think. The words flow out of him, but Bronte doesn't seem to care too much.
"Cool. Call me whatever you like. But I have a girlfriend I've been dating for like…three years now, so there's that. Gonna marry her someday." He throws his head back, a soft smile playing on his features.
They take a turn towards smooth black asphalt. She sighs in acknowledgement. "They finally redid most of the campus after one teacher sprained his ankle tripping over a pothole in a parking lot."
Nox follows behind Bronte and Silvia like a lost duckling, unsure of where to go. They walk through a breezeway of sorts before they take a left, and then a right, and a left, before reaching the office.
Silvia and Bronte wave, leaving him behind in front of a cream colored door.
His mind's already reeling. It looks like they've made the high school quite big, as it's the only one around for a whole city's worth of teenagers. Nox already knows he'll get lost on the first day.
Nox looks around the office. Pretty standard, two desks hidden behind a glass divider, a little swinging door that makes a quaint little entrance to the back of the office, and multiple paper holders full of forms.
The attendance clerk's desk is empty, but horribly plain and snooty, like he can smell the amount of detention slips handed out for being two seconds late to school.
In front of him are also two kids with their backs turned, sitting in chairs in front of a smaller desk. He's just noticed them.
Nox's eyes finally meet the back of the two teenagers. Well, okay, one teenager, and maybe a middle schooler.
There's a girl with dirt blonde pleats, knotted in bows, and a poise that Nox can only describe as stuck-up. She's wearing an embroidered tank top and jeans, and bangles upon bangles of gold jewelry.
She turns around, throwing him the cheesiest smile she can muster. "Are you the new one we're touring?" Her British accent hits him in the face with full force.
The other kid doesn't turn his head right away. Nox can't see his face, but he does notice messy blond hair, jean shorts, and a random shirt. He gets up, adjusting a sweatshirt tied around his waist.
"Ashley, dude. I was texting my aunt for updates! Don't scare me like that."
"Bloody hell—" She pauses and softens. "I mean— I'm sorry. I hope she's oka—"
The kid turns around to face Nox, as to avoid the conversation, and Nox meets honeyed brown eyes. She looks between their intrigued eye contact. "I'll go get your schedule, new kid."
He's left in the presence of a guy who…well. Looks like the complete opposite of him.