Archive of Our Own ^beta

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.

Chapter Text

I mean, the guy isn't a middle schooler.

I think.

He's just really short and has a baby face, and he really looks like a middle schooler. Okay, wait, not really, Nox notes his high cheekbones, smile lines, and kind-of athletic build. The kid's brown eyes sparkle as his face splits into a grin. 

Nox tilts his head. The short blond guy is interesting— in an annoying, jock kind of way. He has to be a jock because of how toned his arms are, like he did a sport or two or three.

Not that I'm keeping track, Nox thinks.

Nox's mind flashes back to what Bronte had told him in the car earlier, and he mentally reprimands himself for being intrigued with this kid.

Annoyance flits through his veins, a brief spark of unease.

He extends a hand in Nox's direction. "Hello new kid I'm touring! I'm Chase, better known as Chase Hollow Like and Follow across all my socials. You?" Oh my god, why is he so loud.

And he was one of those kids. A wannabe influencer-celebrity or something. Stuck up. Annoying. Short. Wait, Nox, he asked you something answer him. Nonchalance GO! "That's not important."

"Jeez buddy, it's not that hard to give me your name." Nox huffs, annoyance coming back to him all-too-quickly.

"Jeez, shortie, you love to pry. Nice to meet ya." Chase wrinkles his nose in offense.

There's a cough that sounds behind them, The girl he saw earlier reappears with his schedule, her manicured fingertips holding it out. She hums as she reads his name on the roster. "Your name is Nox? That's rather unique." He picks up on the faintest of an elegant British accent from the girl. "My name is Ashley. Informally known as Cashley McMansion. But Ashley is just fine, Nox. It's a pleasure to meet you."

So much for keeping a low profile. Kill me.

"Wait, that's a cool name, you gatekeeper! Nox. NoxNoxNoxNox, hmmm." As Chase speaks behind him, loud and annoying, Ashley hands him his schedule, their fingers brushing on accident.

Nox Durand - 11                                    Student ID: 48124

1st period AP Biology: Mr. Mintey - Rm. 21

2nd period AP Language and Composition: Ms. Silvia - Rm. 23

3rd period Fashion and Design: Mr. Ricci - Des. Rm.

4th period Anatomy and Physiology: Mrs. Lewis - Rm. 31

5th period United States History: Mr. Xian - Rm. 40

6th period Pre-calculus: Mx. Patel - Rm. 42

7th period Marching Band 3: Mr. Cannero - Rm. 51

Nox is satisfied with his schedule, happy that this smaller school didn't mess up his schedule like they had in his older, larger, high school. They'd simply handed him the classes he wanted when he filled out the form at Sugar Springs High. 

AP Bio first period though? Ouch. 

He watches as Chase breaks back out into that contagious grin again. "Nice to meet you, Nox Not Important. Nah, I'll just call you buddy. 'Cause you hate your name so much."

Nox grits his teeth. "Can we just do the stupid tour now? You need to stop milking that joke. Not even that funny." He pushes past both of them, ignoring Ashley's breathy sigh and Chase's bewildered jolt, his warmth dulling and his mind reeling at Buddy's outburst.

"Nox, can I have your schedule to help you get to your classes?" He hands it back to Ashley in the most polite way he can muster, which really isn't much because he's very overwhelmed already. "Thanks." She doesn't really notice. Or care. She just kept sighing. 

Why she was sighing, he didn't know. It was annoying, and maybe she shouldn't have gotten her workout in before this, because if she sighed one more time, Nox was going to explode.

I should mail her my used inhaler and then tell her to shut the f— W-wait, that's too far. Gross. Don't do that.

Chase's brain shifts to a myriad of thoughts as he thinks to himself. Maybe…I'm just being too pushy. Dad always told me to be patient with people. This isn't my fault.

He follows behind wherever Ashley is going with Nox's schedule, having paused in the same spot for too long and realizing that he's falling behind as to wherever Ashley's leading them. They walk through the Science Wing as Chase stares at the empty corridors that endlessly stretch on.

It feels different now that it's empty here. Chase's eyes linger across his beloved classrooms, the white flooring, back to the door that leads right out to the Environmental Science garden that he used to hang out in freshman year.

Chase looks to Nox, who looks a little less exasperated now, a flicker of guilt flitting across his face. It's quickly swallowed up across his face as Ashley addresses him again.

"Wow, first period AP Biology in the Science Wing. Your schedulers must hate you." Nox brushes some eyeliner off his eyes dismissively. It makes hope surge in Chase as he regards the rest of Nox's outfit, his stance like he didn't give a care in the world. He has so much hope filling every bone right now.

Wait, what hope? Hope of what??? Chase Hollow, you're not a mysterious bad boy like Buddy is. Wait, who cares if he's a mysterious— That's not alluding to the reader fanfics you've been reading. Tooootally— Shut up BRAIN.

"I chose to take AP Bio." She smiles, flashing blinding white teeth at Nox and makes him wince. Chase laughs softly at how he seems annoyed already.

"Wow…you must be really smart then, huh?" Her forced valley girl accent and the way it clashes with her British accent makes Nox sick, and he wants to laugh as the accent hits him with full force. But he can't laugh because she's all up in his face and he's trying his best to combat her overwhelming presence.

She inches closer, and he tilts backwards, Chase watching the interaction with annoyance, and for some reason he can't open his mouth to tell Ashley to back off, because over everything else, he feels like a third wheel.

She's definitely making fun of me, Nox thinks, wincing.

He inches a little farther away, tensing as he's nearly pressed against the wall like Ashley's some kind of giant and he's a mere ant. "I…don't know? I want to be a doctor, so." He pushes some space between them, irritable. And then she—you won't believe this—sighs AGAIN.

They walk through the hallways as Ashley speaks again. Chase barely avoids bumping into Ashley as she stops to talk to Nox every few steps. Chase is trying his best not to clench his fists up like a toddler throwing a temper tantrum.

"Okay, but Mr. Mintey is a nice guy, I think. You're lucky." She sighs again.

Ugh, she's so annoying. At least she's…honest, though?

That's a weak, sugarcoated way of saying that she's annoying. Which she is. He's repeated that thought to himself at least ten times already. 

"ASHLEY!" Nox jumps out of his skin.

She jolts. "What? No need to yell."

"We need to talk about stu-co stuff, stop annoying Nox."

"O-oh, right! Meetings. I was— yeah." Chase rolls his eyes, and he starts walking in front of Nox, Ashley following behind.

Nox feels somewhat grateful to Chase for making her back off like that, even if it wasn't intentional. 

Between the school tour, they go to larger meeting rooms just so Nox has a general idea of the school's layout, which stretches out confusingly.

Now, Nox has drowned out most of their conversation, too entranced with this school and also due to how conflicted he feels about the two people talking in front of him.

Chase is the more bubbly one, it seems. He bounces off the walls like a kid who ate too much sugar. A kid in his freshman year baking class had done that and passed out. It was really bad, because he had diabetes and wouldn't stop guzzling sugar when they were making sugar cookies like he was a Victorian child getting their last crust of bread.

Don't worry, the kid was just fine. They'd called an ambulance and he hadn't died.

All my weird memories can be linked back to that baking class freshman year. I'll reference that again, guys!

Wait, who am I talking to?

Nox shakes himself out of his thoughts, staring at the contrast between the two: the weird, out-of-breath Ashley who had some style but also had no concept of space, and Chase, bubbly, utterly foolish, even as he was trying his hardest to warm up to him, it...sort of working.

Well, he could appreciate that much about Chase. Nox tunes back in as they walk from his second period class, Ashley motioning to his schedule as Chase talks. Nox catches onto fragments of Chase's words.

"—Freshman intro event—wait, Ashley, I have my wrestling thing. I can't do this week. And uhhh. Ough, dance team tryouts 3 days after that. Can we schedule it to be earlier? Like, we can video call 3 days from now t-to plan it! Is that—"

Great, so he is one of those jocks that Bronte warned him about. Of course he was.

And he was…weirdly busy.

And the student council president for junior year. With Ashley. A pair of opposites, yet they were so similar.

She sighs, massaging her forehead. "Okay, fine. I'm not that busy anyways. Just promised myself I'd finish my faux-Couture dress so I could…I- I don't know, chill— Whatever."

Nox has been taking note of everything but not quite talking. It makes sense that Chase is on the wrestling team and does various other sports. Despite being short, he has a relatively active build. Like, he has nice shoulders—

Jesus, Nox, you're a weirdo.

Wait, no he's not. He's just good at keeping track of stuff. He knows Ashley sews stuff too, just like him, but probably on a much bigger scale than he does if she actually designs stuff. That's…cool.

She turns to him as they stop behind a larger classroom. "Ooh, Nox, we have the same Sewing and Design class third period! Mr. Ricci is super chill, I had him last year for Sewing Principles. You know my Daddy's the reason we have Sewing and Design? Right? Right?"

"What's your dad gotta do with that?" Buddy murmurs. Chase reaches out for his shoulder but falters and stops, worried that Nox would be uncomfortable if he came too close.

"Please, this snob will take every opportunity to talk about how her dad's the Principal of our school. Principal Likey kinda hates me."

Ashley coughs and sputters, her snobby persona momentarily forgotten in the moment of confusion. "What did you just call Dad? And me, a snob?!"

Buddy raises an eyebrow. "President who?"

Chase snorts, like he's on some sort of inside joke, Ashley equally confused at his babbling. "Nothin.' That's a story for another time— Sorry, sorry." He catches a wind of Nox's confused expression first and laughs, reaching for his hand before he can stop himself, and retracts like he's been burned at the realization that Nox kind of wanted distance. "S-sorry." Nox raises a confused, perfectly forked eyebrow, trying not to smile in amusement.

Jeez, he actually noticed I was feeling uncomfortable. "What?" His heart lifts at the hint of sincerity he receives.

"Nothing, shut up." Nox just shrugs and holds back a confused chuckle as Chase's cheeks heat up.

He likes seeing this kid be himself, awkward, even if he was one of the most popular kids in their grade. 

Ashley pushes closer and is hyper-focused on the slight interaction between Chase and Nox. She leans close again like she had done earlier. Nox coughs. "Not to be rude but…you're kind up all in my face." He says, loudly.

She pulls back as if she's been burned, and for a split second, Nox feels bad.

They walk around the rest of the campus in awkward silence, Chase unsure whether to laugh or to awkwardly pat Ashley on the back. Instead, Chase ropes Ashley back into a conversation about student council stuff.

Before he can retaliate or join in, he reminds himself that he quite literally asked for some distance between them and him.

So instead, he tries not to fidget too much as he walks behind them, trailing like a lost puppy as they stop between some of his classes.

According to Chase, they're in more than a few classes together. Three, actually, including AP English, Math, and History.

He didn't think Chase was smart enough to take AP English. But he does talk a lot, so maybe that helps him.

Okay, wait, that's super mean. You asshole, what the fuck.

Chase opens the door out of the corridor of lockers before they go out onto the blacktop and the field, following behind Ashley. "Hey, wait, why are we out here?"

"He has marching band seventh period."

Chase gasps. "No way, you're a marching band kid? My friend Simon is too! You guys meet here."

"Hm. That's…nice, I guess."

Chase grins, now a little less guarded because of his enthusiasm. They look out onto the field, and Ashley awkwardly stands by. "Y'know. You and him would get along super well. Like, both of you guys like emo stuff. I don't listen to much of his stuff, but I liked Fallout Boy. Very pop-ish. Cause I'm more of a pop guy. Ooh, and a musicals guy— okay, wait I'm going to shut up."

He wants to shrug and say they're not quite emo, more pop-punk, so no wonder Chase liked them. "No, it's fine. So, I'm done now, right?"

Ashley sighs as he talks. He's not offended, because he's quite tired and bored too, just…whatever. Popular kids were like this. Bratty, stuck-up. But that little voice in Nox's head talks back to him—they do seem to be fairly normal people? They have their quirks too…

And maybe Ashley's sighing because she just has asthma. Wait, now he feels bad.

Okay, but is it that hard to stop being insufferable so you can suck up to the new kid for some brownie points?

Apparently, yes.

The walk back to the office is awkward, and if it gets anymore awkward, he'll lose all situational awareness and do a back flip as some anxiety-cancelling exposure therapy. But if he tried to do a back flip, he'd break his neck, and then he'd get paralyzed from the waist down, or worse, he'd—

Chase's quaint little cough sounds through his stupid thoughts as they reach the office, the door creaking open behind them.

Except, it's not really quaint. It sounded more like a jet engine screaming at him. It's very similar to the jet engine that had sounded when Mama had taken him to Mexico two years ago because of free tickets she had won at work. He had gripped his seat and prayed in intervals of two minutes, praying that they wouldn't crash.

And the funny thing was that he wasn't even religious. And he knew that statistically speaking, they wouldn't crash. But even then, he was freaking out.

Nox hates his fears that flood his every nerve with urgency, forcing him to cope over problems that weren't even there.

He then realizes he's been staring at the curve from which Chase had exhaled a loud cough for a little too long. His Adam's apple, more specifically. It bobbed nicely as he swallowed though.

Nox comes face to face with confused golden eyes rather than tanned skin. Although he wasn't not looking at the skin of his face either. "Y-yeah?"

"I- I was asking you if you're okay. You seem out of it."

Ashley cuts in again. "He's okay, Chase. Stop throwing your hero complex at him. I hope I helped, Nox."

"We, Ash. We."

She ignores him, instead huffing, "Nicknames are not quite the branding I was going for."

Chase snorts. "Yet your insta handle is under Cashley McMansion," he murmurs, deadpan.

"It is my persona. I doubt you would understand." She turns to Nox after snappily addressing Chase. Nox can sense that shift: they merely tolerate each other for the sake of student council, it seems. The only so-called superpower OCD let him have was noticing every subtle shift, every nuance of every situation.

Ashley turns to him to speak again. "I mean it. I moved from London for the beginning of American secondary school. I do understand if you need help, and I will be in the front office." When she meets Chase's annoyed expression, she quickly adds, "And Charlie as well."

Her eyelashes flutter like she has a eyelash stuck in her eye. With closer inspection, her green eyes seem fairly…glazed over. Wait, is she having a seizure?

He taps her on the arm, awkwardly, to make sure she's still intact. She is, and Nox realizes he's making shit up again.

She looks away pointedly, and doesn't notice how Chase's face seems to twitch, his jaw clenching. Neither does Nox.

He stops himself before he can ask, yet again, if she's alive. She giggles, cheeks going a confused red. "Are you okay? You just tapped my arm for no reason."

Nox rolls his eyes. "I'm fine. Stop asking that."

"Well, I was making sure." She bites back an embarrassing thought about pretty emo guys, and another about asking this pretty emo guy in particular for his number, because wow, would it be cool to date someone so nonchalant.

And maybe she could grow to like him! He seemed cool enough, right?

Right?

Buddy hasn't realized they walked all the way down the hallway until they stop at a dead end, Chase standing in front of both of them and biting back a glare. His expression morphs into a smile as he opens the door to their left. It seems that this is an alternate entrance to the office.

Chase is so done with her tasteless flirting. As they walk in, Chase steps back and gasps as he meets the face of— "Wait, Ms. Silvia? Yoooo! What're you doing here? Long time no—wait, I saw you at the grocery store in Mapleville. It's a small world, huh?" Suddenly, his bad mood is elevated.

She opens her mouth and looks to Nox, shrugging for him to complete a reply when he shakes his head ever so slightly. A fed up, angsty teenager who was the same kind of kid who screamed things like, 'Ew, mom, that's so embarrassing!' on his first day of freshman year when his mom probably hugged and kissed his cheeks and took a million pictures.

In short, she didn't want to accidentally embarrass him.

He freezes, being put on the spot.

Chase watches as Silvia and Nox make awkward eye contact. "Um. She's here to…pick me up."

"That's right! His mother is really busy."

"Huh. Okay, wait, Ms. Silvia. I haven't seen you in forever, my GOAT!" She snorts, a hint of familiarity between them.

"Back at you, king." She winks, and Buddy is taken aback at how friendly they are. "Oh, and hello, Ashley."

Ashley waves.

Chase hums, content with the sight of his favorite English teacher before he raises an eyebrow like he's mentally going over something. "Wait, Nox, how do you know Ms. Silvia?"

"Uhm…she-she's my new neighbor's friend's dog walker uncle's daughter," Nox blurts. Chase throws a smile in his direction, and he self consciously flushes. "Okay, wait, I think—my family friend is a more quaint definition. That's…yeah, I'm going to shut up now." Chase's grin grows, and he adjusts the way his hoodie to be tight around his waist

Without warning, Chase bursts into sunny laughter. Warm, bright, utterly infuriating, and it makes embarrassment pool in his gut and warms his cheeks further. Annoyance fills him as Ashley and Silvia awkwardly watch them interact, and it's like they're the only two people in the room.

That's not a good thing though. He feels stupid. "You're funny, I like you."

Ashley rolls her eyes, quickly changing the subject, like she'll die if the attention isn't on her. "Chase, can I come over to your house so we can brainstorm."

Silvia moves closer to Nox as Chase turns around at Ashley's words. He doesn't know why she's so amused when he's anything but.

Silvia smiles to the two of them. "Well, our two council presidents…we will be on our way out, okay?"

Chase throws them a wave. "Bye Nox! And Ms. Silvia." He focuses his attention back to Cashley.

He straightens his back, his passive expression now tense. She huffs. "Um, hello? I asked you a question."

"…can we go to the park? Sure!" His mouth hurts from smiling so much.

"Chase, that's not what I asked—"

"TO THE PARK IT IS!" He walks out of the office swiftly, Ashley following behind to her car that she had also so graciously driven Chase in.

Ashley side eyes him. He knows she knows about Chase's mom, they had a fundraiser for her and other cancer patients.

He grips his palms as they stop next to her car in the parking lot.

It was perfectly shiny, perfectly— everything.

It wasn't fair.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

"Chase is nice, isn't he?" Silvia asks, her question similar to the rest of the questions she'd already asked as they walked from the car back to the office.

"I don't know? Silvia, what's this about?"

"Nothing. Nothing." A smile flits across her face as she adjusts her wispy bun.

Bronte is already waiting inside his car, resting a toothpick between his lips. Nox hears the faint tune of a She Wants Revenge song he can't really remember the name of before Nox even opens the car door. He takes it out of his mouth before talking.

"Nox, just a heads up, Marilyn and Dad are on their way back. They'll be back in half an hour or so." They, just like him, refuse to call their new step parent a familial term.

Fair, he's been doing the same with William, no matter how many times mom called him Dad. 

Nox groans. "Great."

"C'mon dude. Dad isn't that—well. He's a lot. A load of shit sometimes. Did Violet tell you about my situation already?"

Nox nods. Silvia sighs adding, "He can be a bit…strict. I apologize in advance if he says anything triggering. The only advice I can offer is to ignore him. He's carried a bachelor's grief his whole life, but that's not an excuse. He's still disappointed I took English just to become what he thinks is a 'civil servant.' Teaching means a lot to me, and I cannot stand his one-dimensional opinions."

Nox sighs. They're trauma bonding now, huh? He has a lot he could say right now. "Well, I think you're a very good person for choosing teaching, helping kids like us…I mean, my mom isn't a peach either, even in the times she actually talks to me." That's a story for another time.

The music behind them changes to a Pierce the Veil song. Bronte snorts. "Nothing like a good trauma bond to make us like each other. Or for you to trust us, Nox."

Nox flushes. "Was I…that obvious?"

Silvia and Bronte look at each other, and Bronte mutters, "Yep." Bronte starts the car, the engine roaring.

Pause. "In your defense, I wouldn't feel great if my mom moved me a county over to get married to a rich guy."

More like her new sugar daddy. A choking snort sounds from the front seat, and Nox is suddenly very conscious about the fact that he said that aloud. He shifts around the middle seat and Silvia bursts into laughter. It doesn't feel mocking though, but he's still embarrassed nevertheless.

"Shut up," he groans, trying not to smile, feeling like he's warmed up to his new siblings very slightly, at least more than he had in the span of the three months he's been introduced to them.

Though he's still dreading meeting…their dad, stern and balding. His— no, not his dad.

Never his dad.

William Lucreta. The most famous millionaire realtor of Leaf County.

Chapter Text

"Did you try talking to him about it?" It's a little past eight PM, and Chase is babysitting his neighbors—the Grundefelders'—daughter.

To kids, everything is so simple.

Her parents have gone on an impromptu date night, leaving Chase to babysit her.

Not that he minds. She's great, even honest company to hang around.

Like he really doesn't mind babysitting! Forreals. Even though he's exhausted right now from all his other responsibilities. She's odd. Again, not that that was a bad thing! She was such an interesting kid, even if she was considerably different than most kids her age.

Plus, he gets some money this way, which means less money that he'll guiltily ask his grandpa for when he wants something arbitrary. And most importantly, money that goes towards his mother, because she always comes first.

Chase is exhausted, praying that the Grunderfelders will be back soon so he can collapse into bed when he gets home.

Her green eyes are glued to the TV screen, and she lies across the floor, trying to tie a square knot, which was useful for tying heavy bundles together. Her feet kick behind her as she stares at the survival expert.

Chase knows this piece of information because Prunella Grunderfelder had gone on a rant about types of knots to know how to tie if they were ever stranded out in the wilderness.

Neat.

Prunella looks back up to the TV when Chase doesn't answer right away about what they were talking about earlier. He musters a response a few moments later, stuck deep in thought. "Well, sort of. He was kinda grumpy. Like I don't wanna talk about it kinda grumpy."

The first person he had talked to about this new dude—Nox—was a nine year old.

Great.

But she's thoughtful, and more brutally honest than any of his friends would be about the whole situation, so maybe it's worth it. She pumps her fist in the air as she finally imagines to successfully tie the knot as their conversation pauses. 

Her failed attempts to tie the square knot comedically piled up behind her. This time however, she proudly places the bundle in front of her. "...well, was he emo? Emo teenagers are like that. Dad had a big emo phase in high school. Mom won't ever let it go, even now."

He wants to laugh, but hot embarrassment reaches Chase's ears first. "I— I guess? Not that I'm…" He chews on his cheek. "Do you want the chicken nuggets? And with some boiled spinach this time?"

She huffs. "Chase, I'm not trying something new. Spinach is disgusting, remember?" She sticks her tongue out.

He gets off the couch to walk to the kitchen, which is bursting with color. Ms. Grunderfelder's kitchen was splashed in various pastel shades.

At least their whole house—especially the kitchen—was bound to put Chase in a somewhat better mood.

Chase walks over to the air-fryer, checking on the chicken nuggets one more time, still light brown on one side. "I'm just saying, you gotta get those nutrients in, kid. How else are you going to be a survival expert?"

"I'll just ask Lady Lovalorn to help me fly. I'll be fine." Chase snorts at the reference to Prunella's cartoon idol.

Nox won't leave his mind, so naturally, he becomes a topic of conversation as silence fills the air. "Anyway…the guy I was talking about…He could have things going on at home. Maybe that's why he's grumpy?"

Prunella pauses, mulling it over. Instead of asking something incriminating like, 'Why do you care so much do you have a crush on him?' she gives her best input. "Well, there was a kid from speech therapy class. Cried a lot. That's—that's 'cause he was mad that his dad was mean to him." She pauses. "Wait, am I talking about myself too much again? I— I didn't ask if you wanted me to talk."

Chase shakes his head, smiling a genuine grin. "Hey kid, no. I appreciate the input. Continue."

She continues, letting out a little exhale of relief, "And…I was just going to say, he yelled about it to the teacher when he had another temper tantrum. Maybe this emo kid is mad too."

Chase sighs. "You're right kid. He probably has stuff going on at home." A beep sounds from the air fryer, and he clicks a few buttons. He reaches for her Lady Lovalorn themed plate. "Kid…are you sure you wouldn't want to try spinach if I blended it like a smoothie?" She looks at Chase like he has three pairs of eyes, scrunching her nose. "A— A yummy…smoothie?"

"Just stop talking. What the fu—"

"HEY! Language, you freaking child!"

"—dge."

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

Back in the new room, Nox has been staring up at the ceiling, thinking back to the same memory of the dinner he'd had with his family.

His new, dysfunctional, stupid family.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

When he'd come back from the tour with Silvia and Bronte, Violet and Aurelius were already anxiously downstairs, waiting. Violet had pulled Nox upstairs, much to his dismay.

She'd announced for him to take off his eyeliner, to fix his hair to change his entire outfit, everything. "You need to trust me, Nox."

Similarly, she'd changed into a cocktail dress, devoid of pajamas and instead wearing a poise that could only be described as practiced elegance. She fixed her hair once more, and Nox had sniped, "Jeez, do we need to get this dressed up every time we go to dinner?"

She shook her head. "Nox, I want you to trust me on this. He won't always be home, but please. Just…for a first impression. I don't want him to tear into you. Please?"

It seemed like all he'd been doing for the past few awkward visits was hiding himself from his stepfather. From the first engagement dinner, where secretly bottled rage hadn't made its way to the surface, to the meltdown at the wedding, and to now, the first "family" dinner…

"Fine," He grunted, grabbing a formal button up and slacks, which is lucky because he could at least sort of dress it up without feeling stupid.

The outfit Nox had hastily thrown on was more comfortable than the wedding suit he'd worn, which wasn't saying much. The doorbell sounded downstairs, and Violet took a deep breath, collecting herself as she went downstairs to greet her father and stepmother. Nox decided he'd do the same.

William Lucreta's shiny bald head reflects off the surface of the chandelier that hangs above the house. His scowl is a permanent resting face, only slightly softening as his mother squeezes his hand.

Maybe they do love each other a little bit, and the thought alone made Nox sick.

He doesn't even want to greet them anymore.

William's suit is a little more rumpled, eyes glazed over, similar to his mother. They both seemed to be slightly tipsy. Lorah rushes towards the door. "Oh, oh, do come in! Madame and Sir Lucreta, come, come!"

Marilyn's eyes sparkled like she was being led through a fairytale. To her, this was her happily ever after.

But her son is anything but living a happily ever after. He gritted his teeth, angry and bitter.

Violet beckoned Nox forward, Silvia and Goldie walking back from their large, downstairs bedrooms from the left. Both of them were similarly changed, though Bronte was nowhere to be seen.

When Nox took a left into a large hallway, he followed his mother's sickening giggles and a scrape of a chair to the second room to the right. Sure enough, his mother and William had reclaimed a sense of poise. They looked at him with scrutiny that made Nox uncomfortable.

Bronte sat across the table, hair pulled back into a braid, revealing his uninterested face.

William whispered something to Marilyn at the sight of Nox, stiff in the doorway.

Guilt twisted in his gut. He turned around where the rest of his siblings are awkwardly standing behind him. He hadn't really noticed them coming into the dining room.

Before sitting down, they bow deeply, and then carefully made sure that the chair wouldn't get caught in the carpet as they sit down one after another. Nox followed last, clumsy and nervous.

He wasn't used to this much elegance, nor was he used to his mother being obsessed with her new boyfriend of the month.

Maybe because she'd never gotten married to any of them. This was different.

Nox adjusted his posture, trying his best not to make eye contact with his stepfather. But it was hard when William decided to address him directly. "Nox, eh?"

"That's…me. Hello, Sir." His voice sounded foreign, even to himself.

The first dish is served: an appetizer, placed right in between them and interrupting the awkward greeting. Nox inspected it more closely, noticing foie gras torchon. Truth be told, he'd never tried it.

His mother used to leave the TV on when they were little. Their old apartment was filled with bad french that even they couldn't understand as they made their little delicacies, American style. The memory made his heart squeeze.

Bronte hummed. "Nox, can you pass me the appetizer?"

Nox passed the large plate along to Silvia, then Goldie, before it was received to Bronte at the end of the table. Nox took a piece of elegantly crafted foie gras out—or with as much elegance as he could've mustered, his expression controlled, knowing he wouldn't eat it.

The aura of clinking forks and spoons is broken by none other than William. "So…Nox. What compelled you to pull that stunt at the wedding?"

The clinking stopped abruptly. Marilyn put a careful hand on his shoulder, finally choosing to speak. "Now, now, mon cherie. You know he has his little disorder."

Nox's fist tightened where they couldn't see it, ice filling his nerves. "I— yeah. It's what Mother said. It won't happen again."

God does he want this conversation to be over. Again, William snorted. "Well, it was an embarrassment. I had a family leave early because of your temper tantrum."

"Father, please. Just—"

"Violet, I do not want to hear it. He's all grown up, yet he's acting like a child."

Well, I know that. I'm not technically grown up, I'm sixteen. But sure. And— I wasn't trying to embarrass myself? Or you?

I can't control how my brain works!

At— at least I think? I was just mad, but I wasn't trying to blame it on OCD either.

Lorah placed the main course in front of them, interrupting awkward silences again. Mushroom Risotto with Truffle Oil. The smell made him feel sick.

He hates mushrooms.

The bit of foie gras he had taken earlier is still untouched on his plate, and he decided, now, to take a small bite.

He then thought that maybe it was a good thing they'd never afforded a disgusting meal like this. It smelled horrible, it reeked of family feuds and rich, bitter stepfathers—

The wallpaper is patterned in hexagons, connected to a square, connected to a miscellaneous polygon.

Count it.

Stop thinking.

Count it, Nox, count it or—

He felt the way Aurelius shuffled, his hand failing to reach for Nox's under the table. Nox took a bit of the mushroom risotto into his plate, even after knowing he wouldn't eat it.

He can't. Next to him, his Mother unhelpfully added, "I'll make sure he can fix it for next time. He's just a child."

Nox gritted his teeth, focusing on the dish that smelled like horrible truffle oil in front of him. The chandelier above him looked symmetrical enough: the large crystal shards were illuminated by—

The large crystal shards.

He can't hear the booming of William's voice next to him anymore. He can't hear anything.

It's too big not to fall on his head. Or anyone else's. Underneath the table, his toes curled in his shoes, breath ragged. "The chandelier is going to fall," Nox rasped out.

Next to him, Lorah, who has been observantly watching them, caught eyes with Marilyn Jane Durand-Lucreta. He doesn't see how everyone else tensed, before Silver caught eyes with him. Or tried to. "Nox, it will not fall."

"But you don't get it, it—" His breath comes out haggardly, and he thinks he just might be going insane at this point. Or he may seem insane, and he's making it up, and he's— "Excuse me." He took off, running back upstairs before he could've thought about what he was doing.

Nox couldn't believe himself.

Angry, hot tears bloomed down the sides of his face. There's nothing to count anymore. But why was his brain trying to create problems that weren't there?

Nox ran and barely dodged slamming into the wall of ancient paintings. Nothing made sense. He didn't make sense, his outburst didn't make sense.

Now, the same boy in a wrinkled formal shirt, face rubbed red from wiping off hot, ugly tears, lies immobile.

Why would I do that?

Was I lying for attention?

— You aren't a liar.

But what if I was? Then what?

Nox doesn't even know what comes next. He's been thinking for far too long. Nothing seems to help. He can't—

He can't get out of the cycle. His old therapist had told him that having OCD meant you were stuck in a cycle. With him, it meant making a small mistake, something happening before he spiraled into the thought, his brain making it real and obsessive—truly obsessive until it no longer made sense.

Eventually, it was stuck in his brain, like gum in your hair.

Oh yeah, a kid in freshman year baking class had thrown gum into his hair before. That's where that simile he had just made up came from.

As he's said a million times before, all his lore could be narrowed down to that—wait, but that didn't explain his crippling fear of everything. He wasn't lying, he wasn't— Nox, literally who are you talking to right now?

Nox flops onto his bed, throwing his button up off and ripping his slacks off, hastily changing into a pair of comfortable pajama pants until everything would feel okay.

When that doesn't work, he reaches for his phone on the bedside table and starts to scroll.

He opens insta. Maybe he could stalk his siblings— ooh, is that Violet?

Nox pauses. He doesn't want to follow her right away, praying that she won't think he's weird. She showed up in his recommended, and he doesn't really have the strength to search for his other siblings.

His recommended is a list of random people, all with SSHS in their bios. It seemed like these were his soon to be classmates. He didn't linger too long on any names, not quite knowing—

Nox's thumb pauses, his eyebrow furrowing as he reads— Chase Hollow, Like and—

He taps on the profile. It's him alright. 35 Instagram posts, 6 different highlights, and a whopping 1,453 followers. They only had like, 800 kids in their high school!

Chase's profile picture was a selfie of him, grinning into the camera like he was going to use his blindingly white teeth to knock someone out of a coma. Holy shit he has a nice smi—

Nox mentally slaps himself before he can let that sentence leave his mind.

You've known him for less than a day.

Whatever.

He scrolls to Chase's Instagram highlights, a very full one with all his friends. He notices two guys in every photo: one on the slightly emo side, and another one who looked like a basketball jock. Nox knows that because he's very observant, and he's not stereotyping that basketball jock and mentally dissing said friend in any way whatsoever. Anyways, there's another girl in the photos as well, her black coils dressed up in many ways depending on the photo taken, their style very androgynous.

They were a happy friend group, and that seemed nice, even if he totally wasn't jealous. The other highlights seemed to be more student council stuff, fundraisers— His finger stops.

There's a picture where he's posing next to—is that his mom? They have the same smile, though hers is with an aura of exhaustion. The caption reads, 'For you and many others' with a ribbon and a purple heart emoji.

He seems to be at a fundraiser of some sorts, his mother sitting in what seems to be a wheelchair. His heart painfully twists, and he skips past it.

Maybe…Chase was a good guy. He seems to have stuff going on as well.

Nox doesn't want to linger, obsess on the thought, so he skips to another highlight named, Covers. He'd look at that later. Truth be told, he doesn't want to linger on what seems to be a reflection of Chase's personal life.

As Nox has this very thought, he contradicts that with his motions, scrolling down to his posts instead, finger pausing on one that Chase posted around half a year ago.

The post he's on showcases a picture of Chase, blond hair sweaty, eyes bright, dressed in a wrestling outfit, wearing a silver medal around his neck that he bites into.

And Chase was flexing his muscles as well. Great. Now Nox totally wasn't staring at that. Totallyyyyy wasn't. He would never. He did not turn around a million times to force himself not to stare. That was a picture. Not even the real guy. Chase was a faker.

He swipes to a second slide.

In the second picture, is Chase's his basketball jock friend in similar attire, and they have their arms around each other, screaming in triumph, it seems. He laughs at how crazy jocks seem. "Crazy," he murmurs, smirking at how their mouths were wide open and how they look insane.

The other pictures seemed to be a variation of the ones where he was screaming in triumph. Finally, he's at the fifth picture, so he could stalk and go to sleep.

What the fuck.

Why is he shirtless. It looks like he's in a locker room of some sort, being secretly taken a photo of—his hand reaches for the camera, and there's only one clear angle of his abs and another guy laughing in the background.

Nox freezes, looking away from it, clicking away furiously like he's been— Wait.

Clicking?

THIS CANNOT BE HAPPENING.

Nox does the best, most logical thing he can, throwing his phone onto the carpet of this bedroom.

Nox picks his phone up off the floor, turning it off like he'd been burned. And for the first time since— well…forever, keeping his Instagram notifications seems to serve him any purpose.

"New notification…Chase Hollow Like and Follow has reque— oh fuck my life."

Nox clicks on the Instagram notification like he's been burned. He carefully taps on it, but not before lingering, considering deleting it. Nox looks back to his profile again, hoping he can pretend he was some inactive, stalker—

The Gerard Way profile picture and his display name being, 'Nox, [chain emoji], [wilted rose emoji]' really weren't doing him any favors. Chase requests to follow him again when Nox doesn't respond. "Stop requesting as if I'm not literally following you back right—"

Nox then realizes he's talking to himself. He does this a lot, it's normal. He's his own harbinger of bad decisions. Whatever, Chase, follow me back and leave me alone.

Instagram was stupid anyways. What kinda loser posts himself shirtless? Even if it was a small snippet that Nox wasn't in the process of going back to—

Oh my god, SHUT UP NOX.

He lays across his bed, switching apps to go die in peace. Nox chews on his lip as he thinks about what the hell he's supposed to do— his phone buzzes, and it's not 20 spam emails from Hot Topic about final sales.

It's Chase.

Texting him.

Chase ⭐: U online?

Nox sits up again, nearly falling off the bed.

No fucking shit, I'm online. What was he supposed to—

Nox ⛓️🥀: No shit.

Chase ⭐: Oh yeah. I wonder whgy. Staljer.

*stalker

Nox groans. Why did he expect Chase not to notice?

He tucks his knees to his chest as he continues texting, now nervous and searching for a reply.

Change the subject, he'll forget.

Nox ⛓️🥀: Go back to the first grade, learn how to spell, and then have a coherent conversation with me.

Chase ⭐: Shut up dork.

Nox ⛓️🥀: Better.

Chase ⭐: Hey wait we were talking ab u liking my post from 6 months ago.

Stalkerrrrrjsdfkasdfk youuuuuuuu stalkerkrrkjrjrjrrrrrr

Nox ⛓️🥀: U done?

Stop flattering yourself, little idiot.

Chase ⭐: Aww, a nickname.

And Nuh. I'm building an ego. Somethin u could use lol.

Nox ⛓️🥀: Kys

Chase ⭐: In your dreams. Okay, wait we're not changng the sub

Nox snorts.

Nox ⛓️🥀: Ayo?

Chase ⭐: Don't be stupid, I said the subject. I'm sayin, my adoring fans (corny men) have lijed my insta posts b4 and then thought they were hitin on me. Stupid dorks

He adjusts himself against the pillows, intrigue popping up in his mind at men. Nox really doesn't care. He just—there weren't that many queer kids at his old school.

Jocks weren't ga—

He thinks back to football, wrestling. Literally all of those sports were sweaty gay men tackling each other. What else was there to it?

Nox ⛓️🥀: What chance is it that you made that up? Literally who would hit on u

Chase ⭐: Hey! It happened once. ONCE. Wtv. I was 2 good for gim anywas like I'm saving mysekf for my adirjng fans and Alistair.

*Adoring.

A loud snort left Nox's nose. Alistair? Star Brigade was almost worse than Goldie's music taste.

Although he did kinda seem like the guy to listen to them too.

Nox ⛓️🥀: Holy first grader. Star Brigade?!

Chase ⭐: Stfu. U don't understand talent.

Nox ⛓️🥀: Talent and Star Brigade in the same sentence…?

Chase ⭐: HATER. I will not tolerate Star-dom slander.

Hey wait, I wasn't being too annyoing at that tour right? I meant to ask

Nox ⛓️🥀: A little. it was mainly cashley tho. Maybe she wanted me to like her. Not her fault

Chase ⭐: Oh yea, she's sooooo annoying

Nox ⛓️🥀: Aren't you guys working together? That's not

Chase ⭐: U right. I was supposed to learn to like her by now. But her friends kinda clown on me, and…Ugh. Like yea i'm popular ig, but these idiots forget I'm…different too.

But you're right, it's not her fualt, she's not an asshole, her friends r. Just snooty and 'erm, actually, you're doing this wrong!'

SOOO ANNOYING.

Youre better than me for being nice to her.

Nox ⛓️🥀: Not really. And wdym different?

Chase ⭐: I'm gay, doofus. That's fun but not really but ugh. wtv. They're not mean, just weird.

Liek I said, it's wtv.

Nox ⛓️🥀: hm

An easy smile has formed on Nox's face. He's relaxed as he thinks of what to type out. Chase is…okay? He had his own quirks that made him interesting. And…he was gay.

Nox's pansexual heart pumps a fist. Not him. His heart. He's just happy to find people like him. Coolcoolcool.

The door creaks open, and Nox jumps, squeezing his phone. It's Violet. "Nox? Are you okay?" She makes her way to her door attached to his room. She pauses. "Sorry, I should've knocked first. I just didn't wanna go all the way around to get to my room."

Nox nods. "I'm okay, I think. Just want some alone time." He clutches his phone, which is now erupting with texts.

She looks between his sparkling blue eyes, his phone, and doesn't ask any more questions. He seems…intrigued? Not like she'd know about that feeling. But it was still nice to see him happy, or in a good mood, or something. Even if he wasn't romantically, she was just happy to see her little stepbrother in a more relaxed mood.

"Righttt." She looks at his phone. "Well, I'm going to my room. That dinner was dog shit."

He snorts. "I'll say."

Violet nods to him, offering him a small smirk before deciding to walk away. She locks her door, so that Nox can easily hear when she'll be back.

He turns his phone back on.

Chase ⭐: Ok, it's beyond that. Kids are so mean for what?

Like WHY ARE YOU SUCH FUCKING HATERS

Ugh like pls can we just all makeout and stfu 

Nox ⛓️🥀: They just like to clown on anyone different. You shoulda seen me being openly emo in the city.

Chase ⭐: Ohhh, ick. it musta been worse for you tho, right? I don't judge tho, promise, emos r cool. in fact i kind of think i have a

He cringes, clicking out of the DM.

Chase's eyes flit back to Nox's profile. Empty. No tagged posts, only around 20 followers, nothing. He can't even get a picture of Nox.

Nox ⛓️🥀: I appreciate it.

Chase ⭐: Course. SSHS has a big emo population. And a loner one. Promise I'm tryna get them all represented.

Uhhhh. Can u send a pic of your face?

Nox ⛓️🥀: SO RANDOM WHAT LMFAO

Y? I'm chopped.

Chase ⭐: What the fuck you're not! Shut up, you cutie.

I mean like, we're all cuties, right? U, me, my mom…

Nox ⛓️🥀: Oh yea. Sureeee cutie.

Gtg. Ttyl.

Why Nox is being nice, he doesn't know. It feels out of character, but he really needs some comfort right now. And he appreciates it.

And…cutie?!?!?

Chase ⭐: And I thought I was the one spitting rhymes like I chugged a can of alphabet soup.

Wtv byeeeee

Nox ⛓️🥀: Had to get on your wavelength. Byeeee. Im half asleep ignore the fact that I called u cutie back. But also why did you call me that creep

Nox stares at their texts, tugging at the skin of his fingernails. Cutie?

He's so bad at texting people. Nox cringes at himself, turning off his phone.

He snickers at their antics, ignoring how his face rests at a content shade of red, his anger momentarily forgotten when reduced down to a silly conversation.

Chapter Text

Nox is awaken with gentle tapping. He feels it on his shoulder, insistent and stiff.

Nox gets up groggily, confused as the haze blinks out of his eyes, and even more confused at the sight of his mother, standing above him with a gentle smile. It feels like a contrast to her…usually. "Mon cherie? Are you awake?"

"Mama?"

She leans forward, wrapping him into a hug. Nox stiffens at the sudden warmth, hands freezing. "Um…"

She holds him for a moment, and Nox catches a whiff of that warm suffocating, vanilla. Familiar.

"Je suis vraiment désolée. You're my son." 

Great claim of the obvious. Couldn't even get a good morning. "Uh huh."

This had happened before: she'd lash out, hurt him—usually when she was too drunk to think—and then she'd apologize, just like this.

"Do you want to go school supply shopping today? We were busy these last two weeks to do much."

Nox tangles himself out of the sheets, getting up to adjust the covers and fish out his phone, quickly pocketing it before she could reprimand him for always being on it. She doesn't notice, only biting her lip like she's unsure of what to do.

He isn't one to refuse free stuff, especially now that she's ready to shower him with gifts as an apology. Nox stretches out the cricks in his neck as he sits, feet dangling off the bed. "Just…gimme a minute." Nox knows his hair must be a mess.

"Okay. I will be waiting in our car."

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

Nox walks to the car where his mother had been siting in the car for around twenty minutes. She hums. "Took a long time."

That was only twenty minutes. "Mom, you know I like to take my time to get ready." She takes in the multiple bracelets, dark eye-shadow, over sized shirt, shorts that go past his knees. Dressing up seems to be the only thing that makes him a little more comfortable with himself.

She laughs, and it feels sickly sweet and foreign. "I know, darling. It's like boys care more about—" she gestures to his outfit, and Nox doesn't miss how her nose wrinkles, like she's disappointed— "dressing up these days."

"Mom, since I'm pansexual, I'm basically obligated to take forever to dress up. You know that." He means it sarcastically, yet it comes out colder than he'd want. She looks away, tugging at her black curls.

"I know, lune. You just…dress up very differently, is my point. No need to make me the vill…" She trails off, coughing as she watches Nox's face twitch into annoyance. "Let's get going."

Nox looks away, buckling his seat belt in disappointment. He fidgets with his bracelets. Despite the AC of the car, he feels stiff, heated, and angry.

He wants this shopping trip to be over already.

They drive a few cities down, going on the same empty, expansive countryside—near the crowd of suburbs. They had to travel this much to go shopping? Dude.

Worst.

City.

Ever.

It takes them about thirty minutes to drive, a span of time where Nox taps his foot, listens to some classical that his mother puts on, and tries to take in deep breaths. You'll be fine. It's not a big deal. You don't need to prove yourself to her. You don't need to listen to her manipulation—

There definitely were times where she showed him what seemed to be unconditional love. Taking care of him as a single mother. Getting him that diagnosis. But that was after it came up among one of her colleagues catching him in the midst of an attack. That was the only reason she'd— but no, she did care beyond—

"We need to get school supplies first. Clothes after." They're parked in front of a Walmart before Nox knows it, blinking back to reality.

Nox nods, unbuckling his seat belt. "Yeah." It shouldn't be this foreign between them. 

She grabs a cart, and they walk into the store, which is mostly empty like the rest of the countryside, crowds of people be damned. "Do you know what you need to get?" Nox walks awkwardly as he tries to look away from the people who were roaming the Walmart. He stood out like a sore thumb.

His eyes meet a display of notebooks as they walk further into a store, and he loads some larger, 3 subject notebooks. Of course, Marilyn notices how her son instinctively goes for the cheaper things first. "Lune, we can spend money now, you know that," she murmurs.

"I know." He loads the cart with the same notebooks, guilt growing in his chest. "I just…I like this brand better. It doesn't matter."

She gives him a tight-lipped nod. "Okay." He can feel her hovering gaze on his teased hairdo before her eyes flicker to the back of his shirt, collar cut off. "And we'll get you some proper clothes today, do not worry."

"Yeah." He murmurs, rolling his eyes where his mother can't see him.

They walk around a little more, getting a few more things that Marilyn needed.

Nox is trying his best to look to the floor, paranoid that he's going to be made fun of, they get to the checkout line.

He didn't get barked at. Crazy. Then again, he was in a small ass town where no one knew anyone anyways.

Marilyn smiles at one of the workers a the self checkout, an old woman who gives Nox a resting, permanently angry look that makes his stomach flip.

Ugh.

Her name tag reads Addison. She walks up to Nox, and for a second, he's worried that she's going to accuse him of stealing something even though he didn't steal anything, but what if he did without realizing—

"Dearie, I just thought I'd tell ya, very expressive style ya got going on. I love it." Addison splits into a smile.

He blinks, searching for a reply through his shock for a few moments. "I— y-yeah. Thanks." He exhales breathlessly. "I… don't actually hear that a lot."

"Well, I mean it. Had to tell ya, I dressed very goth back in my youth, back when I had time for that. I don't have time to go full traditional, but I listen to the music. It never leaves ya."

Nox smiles. "That's amazing! I'm…emo, I guess. I love that for you, ma'am," he acknowledges dumbly.

Behind him, his mother gives the two a quizzical look. "Alright, miss, nice talking to you, but we must get going." She gives Nox one of the bags from the self-checkout before escorting him out with a harsh tug to his arm, her black curls bouncing.

Addison waves goodbye to the two of them.

The pair walk to the car nearby. Nox doesn't mind silence, but he can sense when it's awkward. They put the bags of school supplies and other things they got from the Wallymart in the back.

He sits in the front seat, where his mother won't meet his eyes, even as they pull out of the parking lot. "Mom…?"

"What." She snaps, short and clipped.

"Are you…okay? You seem off."

"Fine. I just don't understand how you interacted with her better than your own mother."

"Wha— she complimented my outfit, and it sparked a conversation. I mean, it wasn't that big of a deal." Not like you'd ever compliment me.

She ignores him, clipped as they drive to the mall. He stares at the window, out at passing trees. Nox watches the growing metropolis. The clear, empty skies of this town pan out endlessly into lush, green, plains even as the city approaches. How could she be so miserable with all this?

That interaction with Addison made him feel good, like maybe…this town wasn't so bad after all.

They drive until they reach the mall. It was a lot smaller than the one where they used to live. She hums, trying to break the tension once again. "Small, isn't it?"

Nox lets out a dry laugh. "Yeah."

Marilyn finds a parking spot at the mall. She removes her keys from the keyhole, the engine sighing to a stop.

Nox opens the car door, waiting for his mother to adjust her purse and slam the door shut.

They go towards the Macy's entrance, skipping past most of the stuff as they finally reach the mall. It's somewhat crowded, but a lot less than it was back in the city. She hums. "First stop, we're going to…GAP. That is, if they have one."

He holds back a groan. "Right."

She pauses to stare at the map for a little while, and then she nods in finality. He eyes a Hot Topic along the way according to the map— arguably the only store in the mall he actually gave a shit about, because god forbid he was alternative and tired. "Okay, we have to take a right. Ouais."

Nox follows behind, trying to keep up as she yammers about normal hoodies and normal jeans and normal school attire.

His mother continues to walk along, either unaware of Nox's discontent or not caring enough about his state. He angrily rubs eyeliner as it gets stuck in his eye. He looks to the ground, trying to keep his composure.

Nox's anger comes a little more rapidly. "Mama. Mom!" He hisses.

She looks to him as they pause outside the Hot Topic. She wrinkles her nose ever so slightly. "Mon cherie, maybe it's time you got more sensible clothes. None of that homeless looking—"

"Mom." He gives her an exasperated look, and they've definitely had this conversation more than once, but it's frustrating. Her hazel eyes meet Nox's exasperated blue ones, and she doesn't like how they swirl with the spirit of his father. So…stupid, impulsive, and ever so like her son.

Her hands tighten around her purse as she walks closer. "Fine. Get what you want."

He looks back to her as he walks into the store, feeling ever so…guilty? For what, he doesn't know. It fills him with unease, like he shouldn't be spending any money at all? Even though they're literally here to get clothes.

She should've known Nox wore things like this. He walks over to the accessories, which was really only what he was here for. He grabs some leg warmers and a stack of necklaces before walking back to the shirts. There's none that crazy that he'd be into, but there is one shirt from the My Chemical Romance tour that he'd missed.

He's still mad about that. Fuck moving. He could've gone with that one girl from his cooking class—a normal person who didn't bully him, despite outwardly looking like she would.

He misses her. She was actually nice to him.

Marilyn walks back inside the store when he motions to her to pay as nicely as he can. Though that snippy look makes him think that there's always something uncomfortable about defying your immigrant mother.

Someone who's…given up on making you the perfect child, it seems.

The worker with stretched earlobes and a collarbone tattoo wordlessly pays for their stuff, and she gives him a careful nod, like she's watched the scenario occur enough times in front of her already, the tense teenager and the disapproving mother that's given up saying no too many times. He nods back tersely. 

Nox takes the bag of stuff that he bought around wandering the store, and they walk out.

She sighs, and Nox feels so bad. "I— mother. We can still…go look at the other clothes you liked too."

Her happiness always seems to be in Nox's hands, like a fragile vase he can't bear to shatter. Her face lights up ever so slightly, the shift so small. "R-really?"

"Mom, of course." His voice feels hoarse, foreign, and stupid, even to himself. As long as she's happy.

She grins as they walk forward towards GAP, trying his best not to wince at himself.

I really am the world's biggest liar, am I not?

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

When they end up back in the car, Nox is exhausted.

He'd listened to his mom as she fawned over jeans and jackets and cool shirts that all the boys wore these days.

She's in a much better mood. "Mon cherie, I'm very happy you liked these nice clothes. You should be wearing those more, yes?"

"Y-yeah."

"Oh, I forgot to mention, your father texted me. He mentioned that we must say goodbye to your older brother Gol—Aurelius. College, remember?" Father? Older brother?

"You mean my step-father? Step-brother?" She clucks her tongue, effectively ignoring him.

"We will drive him to the airport." The trees pass by in his peripheral view, the suburbs dying down as they go back up north to Sugar Springs.

The countryside is a blur of perfect green grass, ranches of horses and crumbling concrete roads.

He nods. "Right. Cool." His opinions on Goldie are…somewhat skewed. He's not the worst, but Nox has trouble liking people that have no worries behind them, in a jealous, prejudiced way.

It just feels odd for people around him to be happy when he could never be.

They pass the Welcome to Sugar Springs! sign in silence, the rest of the car filled with classical and his mother's occasional tapping of the wheel.

Nox tries to feel better about himself. His mother isn't upset with him, and he doesn't have to steer around her, worry about her happiness.

After all, if no one else is happy, how could he be?

They take a left turn as they pull into their neighborhood. She sighs as they pull into the large driveway, and Nox unbuckles his seat belt, taking the bags of clothes out from the back—and walks towards the mansion.

The door swings open immediately, like Aurelius was awaiting them. He's met with the perfect tanned skin of his older brother, his alight green eyes sparkling. "Ah, hello brother! What a pleasure to see you! I have just finished packing, we shall be departing for the airport in no time at all!"

Goldie's voice sounds like the type of voice that's been put through 20 different period dramas and then a Y/N fan-fiction. Does he just...always talk like that? "Right. I just got school supplies. I'll go unpack in my room."

"Ah! You go do that, younker!" He smiles, and Nox awkwardly nods back, walking upstairs to where Violet is. Younker? 

He opens the door, Violet yelping as she was in the middle of doing her eyeliner. "Jeez, you scared me."

He looks to her face, the smudge of eyeliner gone haywire from where she startled, darting across her cheek. "What?"

"I— nothing. You got a little…something—"

She looks back to her mirror, groaning. "Yeah. I can tell." She reaches for the tip of her fingernail, tugging it across her cheek where the eyeliner dispersed.

When it's all smudged off, she starts a new line. "Nox, I thought I'd say…well," she pauses. 

"Hit me."

"I'm so sorry about the dinner."

Nox chews on his lip, taking some time to process what she just said. "Wait, what? That wasn't your fault."

Violet draws a line of eyeliner, holding her breath. She exhales as she draws the slanted line successfully until it matches her first eye. "That's…yeah. I'm just— god, he's just...horrible."

"Don't sweat it." He murmurs. Nox wants to tell her to stop talking. Except...Violet seems to want to talk about a lot of things like she has to keep the peace. "You don't have to… I- I mean, I swear I'm fine."

She sighs. "I just— I want my siblings to be happy." She looks at him through the vanity mirror, drawing the last line. His heart twists at siblings. 

"I know. And you're already helping." Violet starts coloring in the space of the eyeliner pen, letting out a soft hum.

"Thanks." She doesn't really know what to say to that, grateful. "We should drop off Goldie. Everyone else is probably waiting for us."

He nods, and they make their way downstairs.

Aurelius rests himself next to various suitcases crowding the bottom of the stairs. Though his usual golden personality is still there, evident with how he excitedly talks to his father, he looks a lot more tense. Upon meeting Violet and Nox's eyes, he grins. "Ah, my siblings!"

William turns around to offer a nod of acknowledgment, though not really looking at Nox.

Behind them, Bronze and Silvia shortly follow from downstairs. "Father, can I drive?" Silvia holds out the mini-van's keys.

He shakes his head, fondly looking at his youngest biological son and plucking the keys from her palm. "Now, now, I want to drive my amazing son to the airport. We're so proud of him."

Goldie chuckles, but it holds no hint of melody or warmth. "Oh father. It's nothing."

Behind them, Marilyn smiles, straightening her hair into a bun, strands dancing in the air. "Ah, what are we waiting for? Come on!" Nox's mother walks towards the door.

"We were waiting for you, dearest." William swings open the front door to hide his smile. Nox doesn't notice how the impending shadow of Lorah pops up behind them with Bronte following.

She comes out of nowhere almost every single time, and it jolts him even now, the maid that Nox can't sense the arrival of. Lorah smiles, raising an eyebrow. "Sir Lucreta, are you sure you don't want help loading the suitcases in the car?"

William's face softens as he turns around. "Of course not. This is for my son. We will join him as a family." Violet makes a face, a flicker of emotion too quick for anyone to notice, half-amusement, half-annoyance.

Lorah lingers back. "Right. So I do not need to call the chaffe—"

"I can assure you, for today it is alright. Remember?" He nods to Lorah in dismissal as they all walk towards the car. She lingers behind to shut the door.

The car was conveniently parked right outside the gate to load and unload suitcases easier. William drags two large suitcases along, grunting. 

Violet motions to Nox to help her bring Aurelius' bag to the car. Bronze helps bring a smaller suitcase along, carrying it to the car, the last of the luggage loaded away.

As they walk towards the road, Nox whispers to Violet, "Why are we bringing his stuff along?" Thought you guys would ask for help for stuff like that. Y'know, having money and all.

"Family tradition," Violet murmurs back. "Started when Silvia went to college. We help each kid pack."

"Didn't you go to college first though?" They reach the trunk of the car, where the rest of their family, minus Violet's father are. She doesn't meet his eyes as she loads the smaller suitcase, and Nox thinks that maybe that was the wrong thing to say.

Instead, she answers back with a hoarse, "yeah." She loads the rest of the luggage as their awkward silence is interrupted by Nox's wheezing stepfather. "Careful with that."

He grunts out in reply. "I was."

Violet hums, her expression going passive as she walks away, Nox following. They move to sit in the back of the larger mini-van.

Aurelius sits in the back, an excited, warm grin on his face. Marilyn is seated in the front, starting the directions towards the airport. "Everyone ready?"

"Yep!" Goldie exclaims. Bronte adjusts a toothpick between his lips as the car starts.

They start the ride towards the airport. Nox sits to the side to put on his headphones and lean against the window. He's exhausted over how much traveling they'd had to do this whole day, but he's also not complaining. He'd be lying if he said he liked to stay at home everyday, staring up at his ceiling, bored out of his mind—

They've reached a smaller, more older part of the town. Nox looks out the window and is immediately jolted at the sight of blond hair whipping past as they drive through the countryside, back towards the airport that's almost two hours away.

His heart lifts at the reminder. Next to him, Violet elbows him. "What are you looking at?"

"Nothing." He turns back around in his seat, trying to keep his expression neutral. Behind them, Silvia holds up a bag of cheese puffs and munches.

Through her eating, he hears her ask, "Want some?"

He raises an eyebrow and he hears a hum of hesitation. "Oh, I really must keep up with my diet—"

Silvia growls and Nox wants to laugh. "Just take it, you goof. I'm actually giving you my snacks for once. Trying to be nice." She mumbles, voice going sad. Nox pauses his music to actually listens.

Aurelius accepts the cheese puffs. 

Nox doesn't really know how it's like to have someone you love leave, but everyone around him does, the rest of the siblings and father seeming dejected.

Nox tilts his head against the window, thinking that it'll be better if he just listens.

So he does. He listens to his mother and stepfather talk, a lot less flirty than the wedding night but still loudly. Nox listens to Silvia fawning over her younger brother, feeding him snacks as he listens to Violet talk. Violet is giving him a rundown of things to do and not to do, an exhaustive list that just seemed to go on for an hour until 'uh-huhs' of agreement become tired groans of annoyance.

"Violet, you're exhausting him," Bronte murmurs, and Nox can hear the smirk to his voice even without turning around.

"I'm not!" She gasps in mock annoyance.

Aurelius huffs. "This is getting quite overbearing, yes."

"Don't worry. Vi has our best interests in her heart. I know so."

She softens, though wrinkles her nose like she wants to make a quip back. "You're talking like Goldie, stop being weird. Right Nox?"

Nox looks up, caught as he realizes he's been eavesdropping for far too long, subtly tilting his head like a cartoon dog. He hesitates, opening his mouth. "Ye- Wh— how did you know—" How did you know I was subtly dissing his accent in my head?

"You're a lot bad at hiding the fact that you hate Posh Accents than you'd think. You make...this face." 

"Wh— hey!" Bronte and Silvia snort in unison. "I don't hate your accent, Aurelius. But is it...real?" 

Goldie groans. "Okay, fine, I don't actually talk like that. But isn't it rather—" 

"Stop. You sound like you consumed too many period dramas." 

"We share the same brain cell," Violet snorts.

"That must mean I have—" His phone buzzes. "…have…one brain cell."

"I mean, I am the only sibling here with a Masters Degree in Criminal Justice," she snorts. Nox's phone buzzes again, having ever the wrong timing. "I better be the one with that brain cell."

"Yeah, yeah, smarty pants." Nox rolls his eyes as he fixates his attention on his buzzing phone. His cellular data was a little faster as they near the airport.

They take another turn as they look out the window, evening falling upon them. From the front seat Marilyn murmurs, "We're going to be here in 10 minutes!" She looks to the siblings hunched around Violet's seat, including Nox who had started to lean forward. "Oh, I'm sorry I interrupted. Glad the siblings are getting along."

She looks to William, who lets out a brief chuckle of agreement.

She seemed to lure in everyone she talked to her, Violet's way of speaking commanding, the oldest daughter leading the entire room. It wasn't Nox's fault. "Yes, ma'am." Violet nods.

The pause rests in the air, the rest of the siblings relaxing in their seats. Nox pulls out his phone, buzzing with notifications. It's Chase texting him again.

Chase ⭐: I keep trying to text u but youre offline!!!

Ur wifi actgn up or???

Wtv heres my hubmer

*number.

Nox ⛓️🥀: Jeez, sending me your number already? I've known you for a day.

Chase ⭐: Jeez, guess you don't need a pretty tour guide when you're furiously trying to cnonnect to cshool wifi when your data decides to cut out on the first day of school and then youre left stranded in the halls waaaahh wahhhh waaaahh and you can't text CHL&F to save the day.

Chase ⭐: you on the first day if you can't text me ^^

Nox looks up from his phone where the rest of his siblings are now preoccupied. Violet has her earbuds back in and is staring out the window, and he hoped that the rest of his siblings weren't looming over his shoulder.

He subtly looks over to Bronte, who's snoring against the seat, Silver's eyes drifting shut and Aurelius on his phone.

Nox ⛓️🥀: Okay, jeez, I'll text you on there, brat. That image isn't loading anyways.

 

That was a lie, readers.

Chase ⭐: God these nicknames are so endearing. Silly goose.

Nox lets out a huff of amusement annoyance as he adds his number.

Nox Durand: Hi.

It's me. Happy now?

Chase Hollow: Very.

The car slows as they take another left turn, and Nox looks up from his phone, chuckling a little too loudly.

He clears his throat in the same motion as Bronte adjusts his toothpick, letting out a hum of confusion as he sits up from his power nap. William says, "We're nearly here."

Violet looks up from her phone. Silvia's eyelids flutter open, long lashes fanning outwards as she blinks. "Wha— oh, we're here."

They get off at the drop off, their car parked close to a terminal. Everyone descends out of the car. Bronte, disoriented and sleepy, gets out of the car behind Silvia. "Bronte, help your brother," William barks.

"I was going to, dad." He looks away, tightening his man bun and lending a hand. Nox absorbs the clamor as he gets out of the car, opting to reach for the duffel bag Aurelius bought with him when people weren't crowding the back.

Aurelius sighs. "Dad, I can do—"

"No, we will help—"

Silvia grabs his bag, weighed down like rocks on his shoulder. Bronte tries reaching for it. "I've got it—"

"Hush, little brother." Nox laughs at her determination as they near the terminal.

William hesitates as he unloads the last suitcase.

Aurelius starts to wheel the trolley towards the closed gates. "I...I mean...this is it." He sounds a lot less like his voice has been put through twenty period dramas, voice cracking.

Unhelpfully, Nox's mother sighs, adding onto the dramatic flair lost. Aurelius was now more emotional, unable to put his period drama voice to good use.

Silvia sighs, pulling him in for a hug. "God, I don't want to leave you."

"I'll be back soon, Sil."

Bronte tilts his head, looking up at his little brother. "We're going to miss you either way," Bronte huffs. "…grow up too fast," he murmurs sadly, giving him a firm pat on the back.

The trolley stops right outside the line, and he looks to his family. Violet comes up to Aurelius too, her smile quivering. "I'm going to miss you, big Gold." She sniffs, wrapping him in a tight hug.

"You don't need to baby me. You have little Nox for that," he muffles into her shoulder.

"Hey!" Nox huffs, Violet breaking apart and flicking his forehead. 

He wishes he could feel more sad right now, though he's known Goldie for not long enough to feel sad. William strides forward, his expression flickering with emotion as he envelops Aurelius in a hug. A stiff hug. But a hug nevertheless.

"Ah, father—" He muffles into his shoulder, awkwardly reciprocating the affection.

He pulls away, his wrinkled skin smoothing over for a moment—just a moment—so that Nox can see the youth, the ounce of emotion that makes his mind reel.

Aurelius breaks apart as Marilyn walks up to give him a stiff hug. "We're so proud," she murmurs.

Goldie accepts the hug, warm. He looks at Nox, awkwardly standing by before giving him a pat on the shoulder. "Well…I always wanted a little brother." He scoops him in a hug before Nox can react, going stiff in surprise.

"Y-yeah. Good luck," Nox mumbles into Goldie's chest as he places Nox down.

Goldie breaks apart from Nox, announcing, "They're not ready for Aurelius 'Goldie' Lucreta!" He makes his way forward, waving to his family as he goes past the terminal doors.

"I'll say," Nox snorts, though Goldie's already gone, his family tearfully waving goodbye until they can no longer see him through the glass walls.

Chapter Text

"—Lightning straight to my heart, oh yeah—"

Chase had been here before. The lights were blinding, bright, even as he clutches his microphone—his eyes closed in practiced, alight concentration. In front of him was a sold-out stadium, his fans screaming at Chase Hollow, the amazing, cool, and talented, petite and buff jock who was dating the token bad boy—Alistair from Star Brigade.

Alistair was among the crowd, blowing him kisses, no longer a straight man who dated Becky Jones of the hit Riot GRRL band Zero Shits Given for over ten years: Chase's gay efforts had converted him into a bisexual man.

Chase's hair was wild, his outfit not costing him more than thirty dollars. Chase was, as some angry teenage girls called it—a thrifting warrior.

His stage is his bathroom mirror. Chase fixes the very cowlick he'd been fixated on for the past 30 minutes before pausing to reconsider the lyrics. Hopefully his fans would be okay with Chase Hollow taking the time to fix his hair before belting out the next lyric—and the fact that this was merely a cover from the hit K-pop band TWICE. He was still working on actual songs…he needed a muse, and so far he has had none of that.

Why he'd gone on tour if he didn't have any songs was beyond Chase himself. Chase belts the rest of the lyrics, his fans going wild. "YEAH, I GOT ALL THE FEELS FOR YA-YOU—"

Bang!

Chase startles out of his skin, letting out a very manly, bad-boyish scream. "WHAT?!"

The familiar voice of his Grandpa Ralph sounds through the steam in the air, interrupting his mini concert. "CHASE! Your cousin will be here soon! If you're not outta there soon…" He growls menacingly. He was all bark, no bite.

"Sue me for being excited!" Chase retorts, pausing when he hears no movement or response, instead an angry huff through the thin door. "Wait, sorry Grandpa. I'm coming, I promise!"

"That's better," he huffs. Chase fixes the strand of stray hair. He grabs his hairspray that he's been abusing that singular strand of hair with, aggressively forcing it back into his hairline.

It moves back to linger in front of his face—but it looks cool enough and that's all that matters.

He looks back to his outfit, satisfied with the blue and black Letterman jacket he'd made with his mother. Chase adjusts the jacket over his shoulders, throwing himself a wink, the self-centered jock that he is. "Okay, Chase. You ate up, slay queen, girlypop, diva—"

"Chase, I can hear you," Chase can hear the eye roll to Grandpa Ralph's voice, the hairbrush slipping out of his hand and clattering on the floor.

"Gramps, I said I was getting out of here!"

"Clearly not. You're confined to that mirror. I need to do the laundry, not lose my sanity listening to queer vernacular." Chase wants to groan, retort back. But then he remember what happened the last time he'd done that: he was subject to a whole weekend of baking pies to feed into Grandpa Ralph's creepy obsession rivalry with Diane Forenski.

If he had to stay in front of a kitchen that smelled like inedible heaven again, he'd actually lose it. "Fine, I'm actually coming out."

"You did that five years ago, son."

"Ha. Ha." He sticks his tongue out even though Grandpa Ralph can't see him. When he does, he comes face to face with Grandpa Ralph, the very intimidating and scary army veteran who definitely wasn't lecturing him about queer vernacular just two minutes ago.

"Breakfast is downstairs."

Chase cracks a smile, his good mood diminishing as the daydream of fame that faded away the second he'd opened the door. "Thanks. I'm going to…go see mom first."

Grandpa Ralph nods, his hand going to Chase's shoulder, humor forgotten. "Of course. Don't stress too much, okay kid? You already have a lot on your plate."

"Yeah," he mumbles, making his descent upstairs.

He looks to the spare room, pausing at the front of the door. Chase softly knocks, greeted with the melodic yet meek, "Come in."

Chase looks to his mother.

Myra and Chase have the same expressions, every micro-shift bringing attention to her wince of pain. She's sitting up, pausing her knitting to greet him with a relaxed smile. Chase strides forward to adjust her pillows. The bottle of sweet tea on the bedside table is untouched, along with a slice of apple pie. "Mama, Kumusta po kayo?"

Chase sits on the edge of the bed as he addresses her. He leans forward to fix his mother's bandana.

She nods, addressing him weakly in Tagalog. Chase bites his lip, watching as she winces and tries to formulate a response. "Okay lang ako," she murmurs, grabbing onto his arm to steady herself.

"I'm glad." Chase looks to his mother, trying to study every ounce of her exhaustion. Her face is bony, worn thin with exhaustion, eyelids gray with dark circles. She lets out a shuddering sigh.

It was hard to tell if she was ever getting better or worse. It wasn't like his Aunt Beth would tell him anything, worried of the turmoil it would put on her nephew if she did. Chase bites his lip, taking in the addition of the breathing tube that would take some getting used to. His mother had gotten it recently as her low blood cell count had made it hard to breathe.

It scared Chase, just a little bit, even if it was meant to help her.

She goes back to knitting, noticing the crackle of tension in the air, licking at Chase's sides. "Are you excited for school?"

He grins. "Oooh, yup! We have so much going on for stu-co this year, you don't even know. Wait, but more importantly—remember Nox? I'll probably have to help the guy around the school. He'll so get lost—that idiot was like, 'melgh melgh melgh, I don't need your number, I can figure it out,' what a—" Chase pauses mid-rant as he watches his mother's soft smile of interest curve into a smirk. "W-what?"

There's a mischievous glint in her eyes. "So much going on with this boy, huh?"

Chase's cheeks flame. "Moooom. You're being weird. I've known him for a week. Why are you being weird?"

She shakes her head with a soft laugh. "I- I dunno just…anyways— you look very dashing today."

"Mama, of course you'd say that. But I did spend thirty minutes doing my hair, it better have paid off." She chuckles, and the doorbell rings, the echo of it going through the house. "And my jeans are fire too, huh! Can't believe I thriftedthese before thrifting blew up this summer. Y'know, cause we're brok—" Chase really doesn't think before he speaks. Like, ever. He slaps a hand over his mouth.

"I'm sorry."

"Hey, no, Mama. I was joking. It's best that the money goes to you. I'm just saying, Ashley's poopy friends'll be raving."

She snorts. "I'll say."

Chase pauses. "Get rest, mama. I gotta go."

She smiles, weak, reaching for the tangled ball of yarn on the side and the length of the piece she'd just started knitting. "Can you put on Laufey for me?"

Chase reaches for her phone on the stand a few feet away from her. "Yup." He turns on her new album, watching as she relaxes against the pillows, going back to the meticulous ball of yarn. "Bye mama."

He lowers so that she can plant a kiss on his cheek. "Good luck!"

"Bye!" He shuts the door behind her softly, walking to grab his backpack. He'd packed…enough for the first day of school. He had the same pencil case, old and worn—though it held various memories of his middle school years. Back when life was easy.

Next to his backpack was his sports bag, filled to the brim. His headgear was on the floor, his teal and pink duffel bag mostly empty.

Chase grabs his bag, walking downstairs with a lingering sickness in his stomach, swirling as he thinks about his mom. Immediately, he meets eyes with his cousin at the dinner table, reading a book as he waits for Chase. That cover is all too familiar to Chase as he comes up behind Deacon. "Yo, dorkin'!"

His cousin—better known as Deacon—slams the book shut. Chase raises an eyebrow at his reaction. He reaches in front of Deacon and grabs the garbage book out of his hand.

The chair lets out a painful scrape against the wood flooring. Deacon lunges for the book, hissing, "Give it back!" His lanky frame towers over Chase, and he pushes Chase's arm out of the way, instead getting locked in a death grip against his idiot cousin. "Grandpaaaaa!"

Grandpa Ralph coughs loudly from the kitchen. "Chase, give it back," he commands with an aura of exhaustion. Chase releases his grip on the edge of the book, throwing the grocery store romance novel at Deacon like it had rabies.

"Jeez," Chase sticks his tongue out, going into the kitchen to find a protein bar or something to eat that wouldn't compromise his immune system. And wasn't too much either, because he feels even more sick just thinking about his mother. Settling upon a granola bar, he scoops it off the counter.

Grandpa Ralph hands Chase his lunch, gluten-free sandwiches. "Good luck at school, kid." He puts an arm on his shoulder. "Don't stress yourself out too much."

Chase laughs. "I won't," he murmurs, quiet. Across the kitchen, where Deacon is clutching his romance novel as he reads a singular page. "Dorkin', stop reading Sorrowful Ships! We gotta get going!"

Deacon grumbles. "Jeez, lemme hold onto one ounce of sanity before senior year."

"Whatever. School. We gotta go."

Deacon stares at the singular granola bar in Chase's hands. "'s that all you're eating?" Chase groans at being called out like this.

"Not much you can eat when bread hates your guts. Literally. We're gonna be late. Let's goooo!" He drags Deacon by the arm, forcing them through the hallway and out the door. "Bye Grandpa!"

"Bye Grandpa!" Deacon says, walking out the door and bumping into the frame as he looks back.

"Be safe!" He calls as they leave.

When they're outside, Chase pauses. "Wait, we need to pick up Pru. I promised Mrs. G I'd drop her off."

Deacon nods. "Right. Let's go."

They start to descend to walk across the street when Deacon feels a tap on his back. His full body jerks forward and he lets out a scream, making Chase turn around abruptly and bump into Deacon.

Prunella raises an eyebrow in amusement. "Jeez. I'm right here."

"You scared me!" Deacon hisses.

She sticks her tongue out. "Bleghhhh. Whatever."

"You excited for the first day of fifth grade?"

She shrugs, tugging at one of her fulani braids, beads jingling as she whips her head around, genuinely confused. "Why would anyone be excited for education?"

"Well, are you excited for…any subject? At least?"

They start to walk across the street, Chase trying to reach for her hand so that they can cross the road. She retracts, wrinkling her nose. "Chase, I'm old. I don't need you to help me cross the street. And yeah. I am, Deacon. Recess."

Deacon sighs. "That's not a subject, kid. You should like a subject!" he emphasizes.

"Oh yeah? What's your favorite subject?"

"Uh—" Deacon pauses. "Ugh, whatever, kid." He wrinkles his nose. Next to Deacon, Chase mouths, Lunch. They share a silent smirk.

Chase snorts as they take another turn on their walk towards Prunella's school. "Cheer up. At least you have Rachel now."

"Oh yeah, Ray's the best. The rest of the kids are just weirdos. I think we'll make mud pies during recess."

Chase reaches for the granola bar limp in his clutched up fist, opening tearing it open to take a careful bite. Prunella continues to talk as Deacon asks her another question.

Chase still feels sick, and he grimaces, harshly swallowing. Deacon nods and smiles, but he nudges Chase once. A silent signal, Deacon looks as Chase just shrugs. He misses what Prunella said. "Sorry, what's that, Pru?"

"I said, my mom made me pancakes today! Like, with strawberries!"

"That's amazing," Deacon smiles.

They walk a few more blocks, switching between random topics until they reach Prunella's school. Chase smiles. "Well, we'll get going Pru. Have fun!"

"Have fun at school? Nah. Bye!" She waves to the two teens who make their walk towards Sugar Springs High School. It's 7:55 AM, about 35 minutes before school starts.

The walk commences in silence. Chase doesn't seem to be in a talking mood, even as he eats his granola bar, but he talks anyways. "Well…what else is new, dorkin?"

"Stop calling me that. Ugh. I don't know. I'm scared for college apps. Mom won't stop grilling me about stuff. I don't even know if my essay is good enough."

Chase sighs. "Well, you have good grades. You'll be okay."

Deacon grumbles. "Yeah, but— wh-whatever, I don't want to think about that." There's an awkward pause where Chase anxiously pulls out his phone. "Anyways…are you okay? You've been…weird this whole time."

Chase tenses. "Just…worried about stu-co stuff. And that guy, Deacon! I need to help him around the school, so it's good we're here so early."

Deacon's lips tilt into a smile. "Right. I'm glad you're…excited about that." They're in front of the school now, and Deacon places a palm to his shoulder. "I mean it when I say you can talk to me, though. You always can." Chase looks at his school. The breezeway that leads to the entrance, charming and old, the same school that he's always led for so long.

As student council president, the school really did mean a lot to him. Stu-co did. His friends did. He had to be…happy for them. "I know," Chase utters quietly. "I just have responsibilities."

It's silent between them, and Deacon shrugs. "I understand. By the way, I said I'd meet Brandon and Janet at the library. I should get going."

"Yeah, I should go find Bu— Nox too." He waves, and they walk their separate directions, Chase bolting for the office while Deacon heads left towards the library.

Chase straightens his posture, slicking back his hair one last time before walking in…and tripping onto the carpet.

In front of him, he locks eyes with the snooty attendance clerk. She looks at him over her cat-eye glasses, throwing him a quizzical glare. "You're earlier than usual."

"First day stuff! I-is Nox here yet?"

"Nox?"

"N-new student," Chase chuckles. "I'm touring him?" She looks at him like he has 10 pairs of arms and 3 pairs of eyes. "I- I'll take that as a no…"

The door creaks open behind him, revealing Ms. Silvia and Nox trailing right behind her. Chase does a full 180. "Oh, hey! I- I was going to…help you around." His eyes flit to Nox's bracelets, scanning his outfit.

Nox nods. "It's fine."

"I'm going to help you anyways. I remember your schedule, y'know." Ms. Silvia looks in between them, going up to the attendance clerk and checking in with a nod. She motions to Nox that she's leaving with a silent wave. Chase acknowledges her.

Nox remembers the car ride to school. He wasn't excited, he just…sat there and chose to listen to Silvia talk.

But now, Nox raises an eyebrow, choosing to look at Chase since Silvia's gone. And make fun of him to pass the time. "Why…do you have my schedule memorized?"

"W-well, so I could help you around. Obviously." Nox leans closer.

He cocks his hip, leaning closer to Nox and pushing his finger to his chest, pushing him away. "Ow! Okay, diva. No need to get defensive."

"Shut up, mall goth—let's go!" Chase teases, pulling him by the arm out the door.

Chase holds onto his arm, Nox flinching as the most popular guy in school holds onto him for way too long. He starts chattering about something as he leads Nox to his first class.

He doesn't...care that much. Not as much as he thought he did. 

Chase's excitement is ecstatic, entrapping Nox in whatever he's saying, his arm waving around wildly. He couldn't even begin to wander beyond thoughts of Chase. His mouth moves again, much to Buddy's confusion. "What?"

"I- I said I liked your outfit. It's cool." Chase murmurs. "Very uh— gothy. Emo— no, that's…what was the word—" He pauses, thinking back to Simon. "…Alternative?"

Nox laughs, Chase pausing outside the familiar door of his AP Bio class. "You've got it. Thanks, little dude." It's awkward between them, Chase itching to break the silence of this guy he still doesn't know very well.

Banter was a good place to start.

Chase pauses. "Hey! I'm not little. I'm literally a jock. I did track and field and swim freshman year, and I've been doing wrestling for two years and dance for four years."

"You sound like you're trying to convince yourself more than anything," Nox teases. That's a lot of sports. Impressive. Not that he'd admit that to Chase.

"Is bullying me the only thing on your agenda?"

"Well, usually it's the kids like you bullying me. Way to reverse the roles." Chase scoffs.

"Well, this jock is different," Chase scoffs. "And he wants to get to know you." He looks back up at Nox, eyes swirling in genuine interest—mouth curling at the corners, dimpled and soft.

Nox feels his heart jump twenty feet. "Okay. Ask me something then," he utters, a challenge. He leans forward, daring, his bracelets jingling in the emptiness of this stretch of hallway. Chase feels his stomach churn.

"Wh-what?" Chase laughs, eyes darting away.

"Well…we have a lot of ti—"

"YO, CHASE, THE MAN!" Another, taller jock walks up to Chase, and Chase lights up, letting go of Nox's arm as if he jumped out of a daze. Their conversation is momentarily interrupted.

Ohhh. Nox recognizes him from Chase's instagram. He's—

"Yoooo, ROSS!"

He and Ross do a weird handshake of sorts, laughing and stumbling. "Where's Simon?"

"Dunno," Ross shrugs. Chase doesn't notice the hunched figure of another boy behind him—the emo guy also on his Instagram—his bangs falling over his face naturally in the way that Nox kind of envied. After all, his own hair straightener and eyebrow razor never worked that good.

Now he's just jealous. 

Nox doesn't say anything, and neither does Ross, Chase unsuspecting the tug of his backpack. He jolts backward. "Simon!" Ross bursts into laughter, loud, hooting.

Maybe everything's just funny at 8:15 AM in the morning. Not to Nox.

The halls are slightly crowded, a few groups of people passing them and staring at the three bubbly friends like they're so cool. Nox wants to leave, feeling like an— "Whatever, guys. It really wasn't that funny! Anyways, this is Nox! He's the guy I'm touring around the school."

Simon and Ross turn around. "Oh hey!" Ross extends a hand out. "I'm Ross. Waitttt. Nox? Chase talked about you before."

Nox shakes his hand, praying his palm isn't too sweaty. "Pfft. All good things, I hope?"

Simon laughs. "Yeah, he talked about you before." He looks at Chase standing behind them, watching Nox be introduced to his friends with a death glare. "All good things," Simon looks down at Nox's chest. "Also…is that a Smashing Pumpkins shirt? They're hella good."

Nox nods. "Y-yeah. Haha." He cringes two seconds later at how stiff he sounds. This kid is kinda…cool. And he has a septum piercing! 

Also, this kid is really close to Chase. Like really close. And it makes him—think. Not in a jealous way, just think.

There's an awkward pause between them. Chase smiles, looking around the hallways. "Jeez, it's so crowded now. Eugh."

Nox hums in agreement. The tension is broken between them—Ross' eyes light up, traveling to another girl who's approaching them. He clears his throat, his voice deepening. "He-hey. Anushka."

She's—to put it simply—gorgeous. Her hair curls at the ends, going well past her waist, her makeup done perfectly, honey gold eyes tight-lined with kajal. She practically jumps into Ross's arms. Chase and Simon groan in unison, well-versed in this routine since the beginning of last spring. A few people stare at the commotion. "Gross." Nox silently agrees, and they all look away, hands pressed to the side of their faces to hide the scene of Ross and Anushka embracing like they're Odysseus and Penelope reuniting after the Trojan War. 

Ross splits into an ear-to-ear grin the moment he lets go of his girlfriend, hand soft as he fixes her hair for her. "W-We'll…get going, guys."

Simon sighs. "Please do. And don't be late to Spanish because you were too busy smoo—" Anushka elbows him.

"Jealous much?" She huffs.

"I'm aromantic. You guys are just gross."

"Fair point. But we're adorable." She throws them all a wink, walking hand-in-hand with Ross and leaving them behind. They stand in the hallway right in front of Nox's classroom.

"Well…I gotta get going too. Have fun," Simon murmurs, deadpan, looking between the two.

They're left alone once more, Chase slinging his second sports bag over his shoulder and wincing. "W-what were you just saying?"

"I forgot. Your friends are really bubbly, huh?"

"Pfft. It's chaotic sometimes, but I'm kinda…extroverted too. So it evens out. Minus Simon. He's chill."

Nox hums, looking off to the side to avert eye contact. It's only then he realizes that a bunch of people are staring at them—Chase talking to this new kid, this absolute loner like he's some spectacle. "Um, people are—staring, I think."

"'kay. Let them. You're fun to talk to." He winces at the bag against his shoulder, slinging it up on his shoulder. "Ugh, Nox, can you come with me to my locker? This is killing me to lug around."

Nox hesitates, wanting to say no. But…it feels mean to just say no. And he needs to stop suddenly getting self-conscious.

But then again…Nox had to be careful. He didn't want to be hurt again, he didn't need friends— ugh, but why was he nice? Why?

To me?

Did Chase feel bad, think of him as some obligation, another thing on his list of responsibilities?

Chase walks with him as they reach his locker. "Your locker's here, I think. And so is Ashley, so we can help you around. But we have more classes together, so…"

Nox sighs in annoyance. He'd never escape Ashley either. Or Chase Hollow, who insisted on coming into his life to stay. Chase opens his locker with a creak, the old, rusted metal's hinges squeaking. "Makes sense." Chase stuffs his bag into his locker, trying to contort it to fit. "Need help?"

"No—"

Nox leans forward to help him put his bag in his locker. He leans across Chase, their hands brushing.

"There we go." Nox hums. "What do we say now?" He teases. He's trying to scare Chase away, and so far, it isn't working.

"Hey, I'm not an asshole. I was going to say thanks."

"The random texts you send me say otherwise." Nox deflects, as he shuts Chase's locker for extra measure.

Chase opens his mouth to respond, to defend himself. He flushes in a way that Nox can only describe as adorabl—adorably stupid, that is.

Nox smirks. "You're welcome." He leans forward, and for a fleeting moment, Chase freezes. Nox taps his shoulder awkwardly, trying to daze him out of it.

Why is this so weird.

Tension crackles in the air, and suddenly, the bell rings. Chase jumps, Nox's hand falling off his shoulder immediately. "You remember where we just came from, right? English is across the hall. Though I think you know that. I'm not trying to call you stupid, I just—"

Nox sighs, pressing his hand back onto Chase's shoulder. "Little dude?"

"What." He can't even retort, don't call me that, because Nox's hand is on his shoulder and it makes him kind of embarrassed and flustered—not flustered. Just embarrassed. And confused.

"Shut up." Nox waves to him, making his way towards his class, leaving Chase utterly frozen in place.

Chase looks at Nox's retreating figure, his baggy pants, the jingle of bracelets long fading, and tries not to squeal as he forces his gaze away.

Then he realizes he's standing next to his locker, frozen like some ghost while some people stare at him, wave or give him confused smiles out of the corner of his eye. Chase decides to start the walk in the opposite direction to his first class.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

Nox walks into his AP Bio class, standing out like a sore thumb. A few people gave him curious looks as he sat in the back of the class. At the front desk, his teacher rapidly clicks on his computer as the bell rings.

He offers everyone a warm smile, jumping out of his seat a moment later. The guy seems nice enough, his excitement jolting Nox awake. "Helloooo, scholars! Welcome to your AP Biology class, the very first class of your junior year!"

He continues talking, his slideshow projected on the screen. He starts to talk about his education, his background, and a bunch of other stuff that Nox doesn't quite pay attention to. Mr. Mintey is so enthusiastic it almost forces him to get out of his seat and start danc— wait, Nox wouldn't dance, but he feels more awake now. But he's still entranced in his own thoughts.

It's complicated.

Nox isn't sleepy, just tired. The loud smack of Mr Mintey clapping his hands together reverberates around the room.

All of a sudden, Mr. Mintey grins.

Nox, who was staring at the floor this entire time, finally looks up at the slideshow.

His eyes widen at a slide titled Icebreakers!!!!! With a bunch of crazy Gen-Z memes projected up on the screen. "Alright! To get to know each other, we'll be individually introducing ourselves! I want you guys to answer your name, what you guys did over this summer, and your favorite music artist."

Nox wants to pull his hair out and die.

Right now.

Riiiight now.

WHYYYYYYYYYYYY.