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Busted
The next morning, the two of them overslept their Saturday, dawn failing to bring enough light to wake them up, result of the gloomy rainy weather. The steady pitter-patter of the rain on the window also helped to keep Simon in the sand man's land longer, the sound relaxing and soothing. He was still hugging to Haylen the way he had the previousness night when nine thrity rolled onto his digital clock.
What woke him up, his mouth still dry and pasty and eyes barely able to fully open, was the sound of the turning doorknubb. It wasn't louder than some other noise coming from the hallway, just far more unsual. He perked his head, straining to looking back to the entrance to see what was up. When the door creaked opened a little though, letting in light from the hallway, he felt a certain jolt of panic, remembering he'd forgotten to lock the front entrance, scared to be caught in Haylen's bed. He sprang up to a sitting posistion, but as entangle as they were, all he succeeded in doing was wake up Haylen in a rather unpleasant way before being faced with something he really wasn't ready for.
Oh shit...
There, in the room now stood two very shocked adults, frozen like frog statues with abnormally wide eyes and gaping mouthes. The room temperature felt to Simon like it was climbing up as hot as the inside of a sona, cold sweats breaking all over, causing him to blush from head to toes. With a nervous bit of laughter, he finally managed to say something.
"H-hi, mom, hi dad."
"Unbelievable!"
His dad finally broke off his trance, throwing his arms up in the air and yelling a few profanities to accompany his initial vocal reaction. His mother too came out of her trance, forcing a shiver upon her like she was trying to shake something off her body, her eyes accusatory and visibly very disgusted by what she'd just witnessed. His father pacing to inside the bathroom, Simon curled his shoulders inward, slumping his head, eyes shut tight, waiting for the outburst he knew was coming. The tap of the sink was heard, but what was more noted was the cruel voice of his high class mother, dusting her fall suede jacket with the back of her hand as he spoke.
"Never would I have thought so low of you Simon. This is just deceiving. And here we were, coming to surprise you because we just got your report card. All A's! We were so proud, we've been telling everyone."
Simon rolled his eyes inwardly. For most it just sounded like something a proud parent would say. He just knew that this was her way to manipulate, to say keep those grades or donT expect us around. The best and nothing else. It helps her reputation.
"And what to we see when arrive? This abnormality of nature! God, Sy! Haven't we taught you any better? Have we been such bad parents?"
Feeling a little bombarded, he forced himself to look up, crawling out of his bed and trying to walk as far as his mother as possible to make it to his drawer, the urge to be dressed to intense to ignore. It was one of those silly ideas that he couldn't escape, like that he'd be less vulnerable with clothes on. After glancing at Haylen like he was some filthy little rat, Simon's mother turned to keep glaring at Simon.
"Mom stop with teh guilt trip, this has nothing to do with it..."
"You know I didn't give you money so you could whore yourself around."
Now he just felt outraged, the blush turning into something a little more defensive, and easier to convery with blue jeans on and a long sleeve black tee.
"I'm not whoring myself around! Jesus..."
His father joined in, his face a little red from having scrubbed it dry after splashing it with cold water. He was less on the offensive then his mother, well in the angrey kind of way.
"Be polite with your mother son. You shocked her. You shocked us both, what did you expect."
The calm tone of Simon's father was calming him in a rather strange way. It almost gave the impression Simon was controlled by it. Something he couldn't help but to submit to.
"Look son. I can see you have issues. I knew leaving home wasn't a good idea. You got stressed out and just rebelled because your family wasn't there to help you stay on the right track. We'll pack your bags and bring you back home. We'll forget all about this and..."
"No dad..."
The eyes of his father gained level in authority, snapping Simon's mouth shut. His voice had become a little more harsh at the same time.
"Do NOT answer back to me. You've deceived us both and now, you're coming home and that's final. We'll have you go through some therapy and you'll be fine in no time. Am I clear?"
Normally, Haylen would have appreciated waking up to a rainy day. But in this case, it wasn't to his liking at all.
Mostly due to the two adults who stood in the doorway, staring at Simon like he'd just killed a man. They looked utterly appalled.
And thanks to the dialogue that followed, Haylen was able to catch up on a few things - these people were Simon's parents, and they weren't too happy about walking in on their beloved son sleeping against another male.
For a moment, Haylen supposed their reaction was fairly rational - at least, compared to how his mother had been the first time she'd seen Haylen hurrying a hooker down the fire escape of their apartment.
"Hurry up, hurry up," Haylen hissed, tossing the kid's pants at him and shoving him towards the open window. "We don't have a lot of time. I just heard my mom get home."
The callboy peered at him through sleepy blue eyes, a cocky smirk on his wet lips. "But you didn't pay me yet," he murmured, taking a step away from the window and towards Haylen. "If you don't wanna pay, we could always just play some more, and you can pay me that way..."
Haylen shivered as the slinky-bodied boy traced over his stomach with a cold fingertip, but came to his senses quickly and pushed him away. Footsteps were audible from outside his door.
"Haylen?" A woman's voice called. "Haylen, what are you doing in there?"
Panic. Panic was the only thing that he felt. He rushed the boy to the window, making him climb out and onto the top stair of the fire escape. "Shit... c'mon! Stop it, she's gonna find out that you're here-"
"Fine, fine. I'll go. But give me the money first."
Running back to his nightstand, Haylen rifled through the top drawer until he located a wad of cash. He pulled out a few twenties and pressed them into the kid's palm. "Hurry up! Go go-"
The door of Haylen's room was pushed open, and he heard a horrified gasp. "Haylen- what- a hooker-?! A boy? You're sleeping with whores?" His mom's voice grated through the air like forks being scraped across sheet metal, making Haylen cringe. "You are disgusting, absolutely disgusting! Get that filthy boy away from this house right now, and you and I are gonna have a serious talk! I'm gonna have to tell Matt, too... this only makes you more despicable, you know..!"
Shaking the foul recollection from his mind, Haylen sat up in the bed, snapping out of his zoned-out state just in time to hear Simon's father saying something that wasn't so pleasant.
"Look son. I can see you have issues. I knew leaving home wasn't a good idea. You got stressed out and just rebelled because your family wasn't there to help you stay on the right track. We'll pack your bags and bring you back home. We'll forget all about this and..."
"No, dad..." Simon refused. Haylen almost grinned, but the smugness faded when he heard Mr. Welsh's harsh reply.
"Do NOT answer back to me. You've deceived us both and now, you're coming home and that's final. We'll have you go through some therapy and you'll be fine in no time. Am I clear?"
That was it. Haylen couldn't let this go on for any longer. He dragged himself from beneath the covers, standing beside the bed and pulling on the closest pair of pants that he saw, which naturally happened to be his dangerously low-cut grey drainpipes.
I've always been so good at first impressions.
He wandered across the room until he found himself standing in front of Simon's father, eyebrows furrowed and lips downturned. "Mr. Welsh. I can see where Simon gets his gorgeous looks from," he spat bitterly, crossing his arms. "I'm Haylen, by the way. You can just call me 'that kid who's been screwing my son', because that would be equally as accurate."
Mr. Welsh didn't look amused. In fact, he paled a bit and appeared to be somewhat sickened. He opened his mouth as though to talk, but Haylen wasn't going to have any of it.
"Listen up, alright? Simon is not leaving. I won't allow it. I don't care how messed-up you think he is now, I don't care if you're planning seeking counseling and all that fun shit for him. You're completely wrong about him," Haylen laughed, clenching his jaw in disbelief. "I cannot even begin to fathom why you think your son has 'issues'. He's probably the most down-to-earth person I know. No, forget that, he is the most down-to-earth person I know."
Mrs. Welsh was glaring disdainfully at Haylen, scrunching her nose as though he were just bad news all around, and Mr. Welsh just looked downright repulsed.
I hate this man. I hate him already.
"Anyway, though, you're not taking him home with you. He's better off here with me, and I tell you that will complete honesty. You... you and your wife... you both kinda strike me as the type of people who just view Simon as a trophy. And if he ever gets tarnished, you'll just wanna throw him away or 'fix' him until he's shiny again. And you know why that really pisses me off? He's better than that. You should want to brag about how awesome he is for just being Simon, not for having the most perfect friggin' grades in the school or being the star player on the football team."
I should honestly just shut up. They're gonna get mad and want to make Simon leave even more than they do already.
I'm sure they think I'm a horrible influence.
And you know what? Maybe I am.
But Simon needs that. Someone who doesn't need for him to be a straight-A student. Someone who doesn't think he has so-called 'issues' for being different. Someone who will accept him as he is and will be happy if he gets 'tarnished' every once in a while.
..I should probably be saying this out loud.
Haylen sighed, too fed-up to really say anything else. "You two are more than welcome to leave, but you're not taking Sy with you. He'd be much worse off if you made him leave."
Even if he had cringed at Haylen's first intervention, a warmth had began to form in him when he saw him fight for him to stay. He wasn't letting go of him, he was there for him, regardless of all the mistakes he'd done with him.... he was permitted to make mistakes. Now that was a first.
But as for his parents, they didn't get that kind of fuzzy reaction. Not, at all. Simon's mother at first appeared to be the worse of the two, more emotional and outraged when Sy's father was just, calm. She poked Haylen's chest center, hard enough to force a step back from him.
"Young man you have some nerves addressing us like so! I suggest you keep your filthy .... everything away from my family. Forget about my son whatever it is you think you shared. If there is one thing I can see right away is that he's far too good for you. And he is NOT .." the word had trouble coming out of her lips, having to force spit it "gay." she ended with a shudder.
Deserving...Simon knew it might not be the greatest wording to use on Haylen, the boy not needing to be told this by another mother. Even with all these years of being told how to behave with his parents, he wasn't about to just stand there and let them tear Haylen apart. No matter the character on Haylen, he knew his parents could tear anyone to shreds if they wanted to. There were times where he wondered if they still had a conscience.
"Mom!!! You don't even know him! Ok he was a bit rude just now but I mean come on, you've just insulted him by saying gay people were sick, what did you expect? He's.."
His mother turned around, rage practically exploding all around her. She was pointing her index so close to Simon's nose he could feel the tip of her nail.
"Shut up Simon Welsh! You have no right to tell me off this way! Why if this were Kyle I...."
Along with her dramatically saddening expression, Simon caved in under the grim comparison...but just a glance at Haylen was enough to keep him together, to stand up in front of his parents, for the very first time.
"I'm not him. I'll never be him."
"Of course, that's why you just watched him die. And now you're making us pay for it to."
He looked to her, more disgusted with this woman than he'd ever been. How could she blame this on him! And worse, what was the link with the death of his brother dying and this situation?
"You always do this. Whenever you don't get things your way you bring Kyle up just so I'm going to bend to your every will. Well not today, sorry mom. But I'm not going anywhere. Like he said, I'm staying. And I'm not sick either." he ended, turning his attention to his father.
Mr. Welsh just dusted his hand, visibly unimpressed. That simple lack of reaction was just what crashed Simon brand new defense, making him all the more nervous. He never knew what to expect from his father in those time, he just knew it wouldn't be good.
"If this is how you feel then fine."
Simon had quite the double take, not expecting the sudden change of heart, the strange acceptance. Even his mother turned around to question him with her eyes.
"Thanks dad..." Simon was cut off by his father, the man's voice reflecting steadiness and a calm self assurance.
"If you choose this forsaken life instead of your family."
What!?
He was dumbfounded by the statement. He couldn't seriously be asking him to choose. He disliked how his parents treated him, but he had clung so long to how it had been before, with Kyle around. They had misplaced pride and were incredibly judgmental, but deep down, they loved enough, didn't they?
"And what if I stay?" he asked with a trembling voice.
"Oh you aren't staying. I'm not signing you back in for next term, and you aren't eighteen yet. So you can either go against us and finish your semester here, but you'll be permanently grounded come January. And don't expect any financial help from us..."
It was an ultimatum. Without his parent's consent there was no way he could stay. He needed their signature and permission.
There is a way around but...
He could feel the tears of anger building up his eyes, his fist tightly curled while he glared to his father in silence, the man waiting for a positive and submitted response. Simon glanced to Haylen, the eye connection making him wish even more to stay here. He had said before how he admired Haylen for remaining who he was through the hardship, and now he hypocritically would cave in?
No way..
"I'm not going anywhere. And you're going going to have to accept this but if you refuse, I'm no longer your son. I know that if I don't live at your house anymore and you refuse to support me, I can apply for an independent youth status and I can sign for my re-entrance here. But I don't want to do that. I love you guys..." he felt his voice choke in his throat, tears beginning to come down his cheeks. It was a little embarrassing but he couldn't help it.
"Why can't you take me for me. I'm never going to be exactly like you want me to be. I have great grades, I'm polite, I don't do drugs and my criminal record is clean. I've always helped out around the house. I wasn't mr popular or anything and yeah, I did argue with you guys at times but I'm not perfect. Nobody is. So what if I'm gay! That can't make me a monster? I'm not going home dad."
His father opened the walk for his wife, stopping at the door and holding it like he expected Simon to follow, twisting just enough to look at his son.
"Come home Simon...or don't come back at all."
He can't do that!
You can't do that I'm your son!
I love you dad, god!
Just love me back!
Please, please, please.
Simon's breathing became so difficult he thought he'd pass out, the room feeling suddenly unsteady around him and unable to respond. All he could do was nod in negation through his tears. He had made his choice, and he wouldn't live in some else's shoes any longer.
Resigned and disappointed, Mr. Welsh turned around without a word and walked out of the Abode board school without ever looking back, accompanying his crying wife who was playing the brilliant role of the betrayed mother.
With the click of the door, Simon fell down to his knees, his tears and sobs turning into loud crying, unable to hold anything back any more. He never expected this. He knew they wouldn't be happy about it, but to just, abandon him this way. He was so certain they had loved him enough...and now they had proven they didn't.
Haylen was in complete and total disbelief as he watched Simon's parents exit through the door, swiftly leaving the premises of the boarding school. Everything seemed to be going in slow motion - the door drifting shut behind them, Simon falling to his knees and sobbing, Haylen's faint heartbeat. It was as though someone had taken a remote controller and pressed the 'slow-speed' button.
Before he could even think about what had just happened, Haylen found himself at Simon's side, helping the boy to his feet and sitting him on the couch that lined the back wall of the room. He then sunk down beside him, quietly wrapping his arms around the redhead's torso and rubbing his back.
"Shh... Sy, it's-" Haylen paused, thinking for a moment.
He wanted to say that it was going to turn out alright, but he couldn't even bring himself to do it. He'd never been good at looking to the future through bright eyes, and even now, in a time when optimism would be ideal, he just couldn't do it.
Instead he closed his arms tighter around the crying boy, bringing him snug against his chest. He wasn't entirely sure if he was doing this whole 'affection' thing right, but he figured that if he mimicked how Simon had held him the night before, it would be good enough.
"I'm guessing you probably feel pretty shitty right now," Haylen sighed against Simon's hair. It scared him to be holding someone who felt like they could just shatter. Right now, Simon was like this glass boy, so fragile and prone to breaking, and Haylen felt like he couldn't do anything to fix him.
I suck at this.
To make matters worse, Haylen knew that no matter how bad he felt, he wasn't good at expressing sympathy. He was terrible at being reassuring, and didn't know what he could possibly say to make anything better. So he just went with his gut, hoping for the best. He didn't even think about what he was saying - he just let it pour out, unrevised and unrefined.
"You're worth more than I could ever say," he began, rocking back and forth ever so slightly. He'd read somewhere, in one of his mom's "how to deal with a crazy kid" books (that she never even took a second glance at, truthfully), that a rocking motion could help to soothe and calm someone if they were stressed. "This is insane... but it's just a rough patch. We will pull through it."
We.
We.
Us.
Both of us.
...oh god.
Clearing his throat, Haylen continued, hoping that he didn't sound like a total idiot. "I know you... love.. your parents, and they feel the same towards you. It's just... this obviously wasn't something they expected. It's going to take some time, but I know that you're their son, and they'll move past it for you. They just think that they'd be doing you good if they made you get away from me - hell, maybe they would - and I'm sure that deep down, even if it doesn't seem like it, their intentions are good. I dunno. It just seems like that beneath this cover that they have, this pride that they obviously want to keep, they truly do care about you."
Where am I even pulling this from?
How would I know how to tell if someone 'cares'?
How would I know how to tell if someone 'loves'?
Haylen felt terrible. He internally decided that he was the worst friend in the world. He could barely offer support in a time when Simon desperately needed it.
I don't think I'm being very convincing.
I could blame it on the fact that we fought last night, but that has nothing to do with this. That's in the past. This is now, and there's nothing I can do to help him.
I feel like.. a waste.
Running his hand up and down Simon's back, Haylen closed his eyes, wanting to be able to say something that could really make this situation improve, at least a little bit.
He didn't want Simon to become as broken as him.
"Hey," he voiced softly, "hey, Sy, listen. I know everything feels hopeless right now, trust me, I know... but I won't let anything happen to you. I don't care what your parents say. You're staying here... you're staying with me. I know I'm no good at any of this, but I hope.. I hope you know that I'm here for you."
For just a little moment, Simon felt like he was seven, being rocked by Haylen this way, frail and yet, safe. He could just, let it go. Words Haylen wasn't sure were appropriate, weren't even necessary. His gestures, his embrace and affection spoke louder than his words. He was doing this right, and Sy had no doubt of it. He was there when he needed him to be.
He clung to his shirt, pouring fresh tears in it, his sobs trembling the both of them under the gloomy morning light, gently pouring through the window sills. Time, the healer of all wounds would serve him right, maybe. He could only hope for such daily miracle of life. That time, would grant him his family back. That he could live in his own skin, openly.
His own skin....was it really crawling or was this the illusion of the present? Safe and small in his lover's arms. Could this really be the outlook of his future? It was an incredible hardship to accept this truth, that he was forced in between choosing to be himself and live, to be going in head first through hardships he never imagined, or to have to bury himself in an illusion he would never escape, living the distant happiness. If everyone else sees him smiling and happy, helpful and loyal, could he really be sad and desperate?
Questions without hope of future answers defiled in the mind of the red head, tiring, confusing. But there was a light piercing the clouds of this storm. He wasn't alone. The person sheltering him in this very instant would be there for him, and he believed it. He couldn't do otherwise. Never before had he thought he could be with a person like Haylen, but this blunt honesty was what he'd been needing to break free.
Being free...he was free. Somehow he had treasured the idea that if he would break free he'd be without troubles, like those newborn butterflies coloring tarnished fields of hay and wheat. But it was different, faced with reality...and yet, it felt good. If one person could accept him, maybe others would to. It was a start.
More so over, Haylen had just spoken of them as being together. Maybe there was no title added yet, but it was another step forward, and as much as he wanted reassurance in this broken moment, Simon didn't attempt to push his luck.
"You've doing just fine." he breathed, tremors shaking many of the syllables. "Just, keep like that, just a little longer. You don't have to talk just, stay here with me." he requested.
Minutes slowly ticked by, the tight hold trapping his heart began to loosen up and the sobs stopped. He was regaining control over himself. After close to twenty minutes, he'd regain enough of his composure to gently withdraw from Haylen's hold, wiping his tears with both hands, leaving a set of very puffy and bloodshot eyes. Glancing over to Haylen's inquisitive expression, he felt reassured enough to afford himself a little laughter. It wasn't anything cheerful, but it had some hope to it.
"I made a wreck of your shirt. I'm sorry. Maybe I could get you another one?"
After Haylen's reply, he pulled himself to a stand, walking to the bathroom and leaning on the counter. The vision of his face and the newfound silence brought back another cramp at his heart, new tears swelling his eyes and a new series of sobs shaking him.
My god, am I ever going to stop crying?
I know Haylen said they would come to accept it...but I'm just not so sure.
All I'm sure about, is that it won't be soon.
I haven't seen my dad this serious in ages.
Oh god...I don't have a family anymore...
A shrieked gasp echoed through the bathroom when he failed to hold in a cry, hyperventilating a little. He had to stop though, every minute spend here just forcing the memories to play boomerang, coming back every moment of calm.
He rinsed his face, washing away the residual sodium around his eyelids, breathing deeply to control his little breaking down. He went back to the room, looking to Haylen with those wide desperate eyes.
"Can we get out of here?"
Haylen could hardly stand the absent tone to Simon's voice, almost as though his personality had been taken out and removed with the ghost of a sad little spirit.
"Of course we can get out of here," he replied quickly, almost too-happy to be leaving the dorms. After Simon's parents had left, the negative vibe in the room had increased immensely, and Haylen knew that Simon probably didn't even want to think about that incident right now.
We need to do something mindless.
Something fun.
Something.. relaxing, easy to deal with.
...Shit, no, not that something.
Without much explanation as to where they were headed, Haylen grabbed Simon's forearm and led him to the Student Union Center to pay a little visit to the the Subway Sandwich Shop.
