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detention
This was something he wasn't looking forward to, for he knew that Haylen to would be there, given light of recent events. The only hope he had was that his outburst might have been enough to send the kid to the hospital for at least a day.
Somehow though, he doubted that was a fact.
So, with a motivation level of about zero, he dragged himself to the empty room in the back of the school, finding an empty seat. At least discovering that no one was in the room already did contribute to lifting his spirit a little.
Plucking his rear lazily in his seat, he grabbed his wallet and flipped it opened to pictures of home, his friends at his old school. He never thought he'd miss home this much or so soon. Just the sight of them on paper made him smile a little, replaying some old activities they did back then, the time when him and Jack had gone shopping to find Shelby and all the rides they took together, sight seeing.
A pang of confusion hit him. Was all those Jack memories a sign that he had a crush on the boy and never knew!? The thought was dismissed as quickly as it had sprung up. Jack was like a brother to him..a brother..why did that word pop up. He shut his wallet and stuffed it back in his back pocket, crossing his muscular arms on the desk before leaning in his head with a loud sigh.
Not only was the idea of seeing Haylen here dreadful, but apparently, detention was very, VERY quick to become boring.
You know those days that you have that feel like they couldn't possibly get any worse, and then they do, and it makes you feel like you could just crumble into dust and die on the spot?
Haylen was having one of those days.
Again.
As he stumbled not-so-gracefully into the detention center, he immediately caught sight of an all-too-familiar boy - that horribly beautiful redhead; that cruel, cruel kid who'd broken his nose...
Simon.
It figures.
Haylen settled down in the plastic seat that was right beside Simon's, staring coldly at the blank chalkboard in the front of the classroom. He sat tight-lipped and with his hands clenched into angry fists beneath the desk, refusing to verbally acknowledge Simon's presence.
Of course he'd be here. He was the one who initiated the friggin' fight, right?
Right?
Well... if not, then at least he did the honors of the bone-breaking.
The only thing that Haylen found himself concentrating on was the stinging pain in his face. It was such a common sensation for him, that of aching bones and broken skin, but each time, the hurt only seemed to be magnified. Perhaps it made a difference this time that it had been Simon to do the beating, not his usual abuser.
Matt...
Oh god, I... can't even think about that man.
"My darling mommy is gonna be so proud of me," Haylen breathed in a singsong voice, rocking back and forth ever so slightly in his chair. "I wanna call her and tell her all about my pretty roomate. I'll say, oh, mother, he's my favorite toy in the world. And she'll cry and scream at me and hang up."
What am I doing?
This... my mom... isn't Simon's business.
People are gonna think I'm mentally unstable.
...Well. Surprise surprise.
Letting out a soft sigh, Haylen leaned back in his chair and tried his best to forget about the throbbing pain in his nose. "Well, my nose really friggin' hurts! In case you were wondering, anyone."
May as well be speaking to the wall.
Isn't that what I'm doing?
Haylen didn't pay any attention to the detention moderator who was shooting him annoyed glances and asking him to 'please quiet down, this isn't a fiesta', and instead allowed himself a small peek at Simon.
The other boy's freckled face was unreadable.
"Sy... hm. Have you ever considered spelling that like 'sigh'? It would be a lot more... fun... that way." Haylen shot an unamused look in Simon's general direction. "A lot more suiting for an angsty little sexually frustrated boy like you. Oh, Sigh-mon. I don't like you very much."
Just... shut up.
I don't even want to talk to him right now.
But there's nothing better to do.
As predicted, the chocolate haired disgruntled teen walked in the room in his usual noticeable fashion. In translation, he made a scene the second he crossed the door way. Even without saying a word, the way he just walked or looked his way screamed "I'm HERE!".
Oh surprise
Simon lifted his annoyed mug to slip a glare at Haylen as he sat down a few seats away, the room completely empty with the exception of the both of them. The anger dissolving in the slightest, he got a good look at the art piece he'd fabricate on Haylen's face earlier. He never knew he had such talent for colors. The poor kid looked disfigured with those deep hues of blue, purple and red, not too mention the crooked bridge of his once perfectly molded nose.
Poor kid? Nah he deserved it.
I wonder if his nose will heal normally.
I hope so, not that I'm sure why.
"My darling mommy is gonna be so proud of me, I wanna call her and tell her all about my pretty roommate. I'll say, oh, mother, he's my favorite toy in the world. And she'll cry and scream at me and hang up."
With a roll of his green saturated irises, Simon ignored the eerie behavior and decided to focus on an oh-so thrilling session of thumb twirling.
The dude is a loon.
He's talking to himself.
He used the word "Mommy" and I don't care if it was sarcastically.
I mean sure he has parents issues. He's my age. Isn't that the norm? But we don't all go thinking out loud.
"Well, my nose really friggin' hurts! In case you were wondering, anyone."
The use of the word "anyone" aside, that made him appear more normal...and also forcing an unwanted pang of guilt upon Simon's shoulders. But not enough for him to show and no way would he let him acknowledge it.
"You deserved it." he acidly replied.
But apparently Haylen wasn't done talking, much to Simon displeasure, not that he wasn't expecting it or anything. And thus, with a sigh of deeply felt annoyance, he leaned on his desk and listened to the pointlessness Haylen had to communicate.
"Sy... hm. Have you ever considered spelling that like 'sigh'? It would be a lot more... fun... that way. A lot more suiting for an angsty little sexually frustrated boy like you. Oh, Sigh-mon. I don't like you very much."
Anger failed to present himself. There was no one around for him to feel embarrassed. Outside, he saw a shadow move by the door and assumed rightfully that the teacher, in light of the reason for the detention, thought it smarter to do surveillance from outside. It wasn't impressing Simon, but he was thankful for it. With a lazy stare, he looked to Haylen, speaking dully and visibly bored by the boy's repetitive outbursts.
"No. You're just pathetic, you know that? If you think you are going to piss me off with this kid's stuff, you're on something you seriously should consider quitting. What's your deal anyways? Your pants to tight so you can't think straight, is that it?"
His cheekbone left the comfort of his inner palm and he got straight to indulge his impulse to gesticulate as he spoke.
"Do you even realize you're like a broken record? Sure, it's shocking at first, but then it's just some charity case kid making a scene. Ouh look" he mocked with wide eyes and signing up both opened hands "Haylen's flipping out of nowhere again. He MUST want attention. Limelight whore."
...
Simon didn't expect his own little outburst of cruelty, not usually one for it, more the type of kid to just take it. But he'd been at his limit and he was beyond the line of fed-up with it.
It was difficult to make Haylen genuinely angry. After all, he was a pretty toughened kid.
But somehow, Simon had just managed the seemingly impossible.
"You... I can't- I can't believe you. Well, wait, yes I can, because you've gained quite the reputation since this morning to be a complete and total jerk about everything. But you know, it's okay. Sticks and stones."
Haylen stood up from his chair and began pacing between the rows of desks. While he wasn't about to admit that Simon's words had actually hit his heart a little bit, they did. He was confused and upset and just not in the mood to fight anymore. He hadn't expected to see Simon actually mad, yet he was.
This is insane.
"You don't even know the half of it, Simon. Don't friggin' call me a charity case kid or a limelight whore. Attention is the last thing I want, especially from you. But it may be difficult for you to understand that not everyone in the world seeks constant approval from everyone around them. Not everyone will do whatever they need to in order to please those around them. You do, though, you filthy little doormat. I can read you like a book. I've been thinking... it must be so lonely for you down there, down on the ground, catering to everyone's needs. Don't you ever think about yourself? Don't you remember that you exist, or have you forgotten?"
I wish I could forget that easily.
Haylen kicked a chair over, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he searched for oxygen in the room. His lungs always seemed smaller when he was upset.
"I really can't stand a lot of people, you know? I'm sure I've told you this, since I'm such a friggin' broken record. But you? You? You're beyond that. You are physically unbearable." Haylen slammed his fist down on the closest desk, a loud thump resounding throughout the room. "Did you hear that, you disgusting little shit? Did you hear how heavy that sounded, yet how hollow it was? That's the perfect synonym for life right there for you. A big huge god-damned burden on your shoulders that seems empty and pointless until you die. Sorry you don't like me, but the only reason people don't listen to me is because they don't want to hear the truth."
Don't start again.
Not this. No no no.
"I," Haylen declared with a maniacal grin, "I am the grim reaper! The bearer of bad news! And though you can't stand when I tell you how broken you are, you know I'm right! I don't talk because I want attention; I talk because I want someone else in this friggin' world to hear me!"
His eyes began to sting, and it felt like someone was clawing at the back of his throat. The pounding feeling in the back of his skull had returned, and he could feel a fresh nosebleed coming on.
"I'm just so friggin' frustrated! Every time I open my mouth, it's like a new disease is gonna pour out! I'm so tired of being the waste of space who'd be better off dead... and you know what? Even you - you, of all people, don't listen to me! You seriously need a sense of reality knocked into that head of yours, or else you'll end up a freak, and who likes a freak?"
Haylen slumped tiredly into the chair he'd been sitting in before, lowering his voice to a breathy hiss. "And if you ever say I fish for attention again, I swear to god..."
Back home, I would have done anything to make everyone leave me alone.
He doesn't know me at all! How can he say these things without knowing a thing about my life before boarding school?
"Maybe you should just keep on trying to please everyone and hating yourself all the while! And maybe you're right to hate yourself, because right now, I can't find anything I like about you... not even those pretty lips, because what's behind them is just that ugly."
With a roll of his eyes and a muttered "Here we go again.", Simon felt no jolt of surprise when he heard the upsurge in Haylen's voice. Dully, Simon just leaned again with the little haven that was the cove at the center of his palm, his elbow cozily lounged on the cold and smooth surface of the desk as he skimmed Haylen's angry monologue.
The detachment Simon felt was shattered a little too early for his own liking. Well, anytime would have been disliked truthfully. In far too many words, he'd just been pin pointed as a push-over, a slave to other's desire.
I'm so sick of hearing that one.
I know I am you big twit I just can't break out of it.
You try fighting your own guilt system!
It was difficult though, because he didn't want to snap back, mirroring Haylen's reaction. Deep down, if he just acted like he didn't care about anything the boy said, he felt it would have more of an insulting impact, a silently stating how little importance what he had to say was. Yet, every part that resound true, that actually did ring Simon's flaws as they were, mocking them, caused a little twitch to his hand.
Of course the slight gesture wasn't visible yet to anyone who wasn't brashly staring at his hands, but it would soon be, and if he didn't do something he would A) Jump out of his seat and make use of the more barbaric to shut someone up, B) get noticed and end up stooping to Haylen's level with a petty insult fight or C) have some kind of break down. So of course he took in some action, of a slow and uninterested appearance. With a forced yawn, he crossed his arms over the top of his desk and laid his head on it.
"Could you stop shouting I'm trying to sleep this detention thing off."
I'm not a doormat.
I'll break out of it one day.
Heck, I'm not trying to please him, am I!?
And he is fishing for attention.
I hate him.
Haylen wasn't entirely surprised when Simon offered little feedback to his rant. He'd expected the boy to either overreact like he had earlier or not say much at all, using silence in lieu of words.
"Could you stop shouting? I'm trying to sleep this detention thing off."
Haylen's lip lifted in a sneer, and a grumble of annoyance and simmering hatred rose from deep in his throat. "Sure, baby, I'll hush up so that you can get in a little nap. Your eyes are angry... I'm sure the truth is tiring."
With an elegant arch of his spine, Haylen bent over the back of his chair, peering at Simon upside-downedly. His eyes swam over that honey freckled face, locking with that apple green gaze for a moment before he straightened up and observed the chalkboard as though it were the most interesting thing he'd ever seen.
He's obviously angry.
And the whole nonchalant and quiet approach is horribly irritating, but less effective than it should be since it's clear that deep down, I struck a chord.
As much as he's trying to hide it, it's rather evident that he's not too happy with me right now.
Which is ideal.
Naturally.
Haylen drew swirls on his desk with his finger, humming a peculiar tune to himself all the while. "Ashes, ashes, we aaaalll fall down," he murmured, resting his chin on his palm. With an involuntary whimper, he pulled his knees up to his chest and began nodding from side to side, dancing to the song in his head.
It's so quiet in here.
Just what Simon wanted.
I hate him.
Out of nowhere, Haylen felt a steady drip of blood trail from his nose and over his lips to fall from his chin. "Shit," he said in a whispery voice, swiping beneath his nose with the back of his hand.
How inconvenient.
He flicked his tongue out to clean his lips, smiling animalistically as he tasted copper in his mouth. "Mmnh... and to think, this is the blood that Simon made me bleed." He tilted his head until the flow stopped, not caring that the red liquid was drying flakily on his lips or around the rims of his nostrils.
It's not like I could look any worse right now.
Or could I?
Have you ever been able to fully ignore some annoying sound when there was nothing else to do? It's pretty impossible. Surely why Simon felt compiled to send a few subtle glances toward Haylen from time to time, seeing him sway at the sound of some song he'd never heard before.
After high school, that guy has a nice little padded room waiting for him somewhere.
As Haylen was living the physical consequence of being a jerk, even if he preferred blaming it fully on Simon, the room door creaked open and gruff looking older women peered her head from her five feet of height.
"Look, detention is almost over but if I hear another session of screaming I will have no choice but to put the both of you down for a second day of detention."
Outraged by the wrongful accusation, Simon's head snapped up, mouth a little gaping in protest.
"Hey, but I didn't..." the door shut back before he could even finished, ignored in a taste of his own medicine. "...do anything."
The offense over he glared in Haylen's direction, jaw clenched tightly together, appearing a little more menacing than usual as hatred nearly gave him a dark aura.
"You better keep this quiet. I will not be get punished for the simple fact that I'm stuck with a moron ripe for the loonie bin."
His anger flared up and he was unable to keep the silent charade up any longer, his emotions wringing free from their rationalization leash. Of course that didn't mean he'd break into a screaming fit either, he really wasn't hoping for a second day of detention with this bozo. He preferred spitting every word through tightly grinded teeth, being almost daring in the way he muttered everything.
"And you know what, even if you are to blind to see it, you are fishing for attention."
It reached melt down point, realizing only too late that this previous thing of just trying to bottle this up was backfiring in exponential proportions. Every inkling of anger he'd felt during Haylen's earlier speech returned, like a thousand little bacteria eating away at his restraint and regular need for a certain etiquette and self preservation.
"And sure, I admit it. I'm a friggin push over. Oh woopti-do! Like I care. I prefer that than being some flaming-gay emo case like you. At least in the high majority of cases it makes people happy. That's what counts. They can't take what life is, I can. So if it helps them I'll just handle it for them, whether they even remember my name or not. They matter ok!?" he said, his voice become hoarse as he tried to raise it a little while also keeping it at a whisper level, two concepts that didn't really puzzle well together.
"It's not like I matter anyways. I can't replace Kevin! He was always the greater brother and I think so too but I'm not him ok. What the hell, if I want to be that great should I blow my head up too huh?!"
He stopped his outburst right then and there, morphing into a little golden statue of skin and fabric, unable to accept what he'd just admitted out loud when he couldn't even say that to himself on normal days.
Like on cue, the door creaked opened a second time and the lady entered, Simon not even able to tear himself away from his frozen disposition to look her way.
"Alright boys, time's up. Haylen, you can leave first. Simon, you have to wait five minutes. I don't want you boys to start fighting in the halls. And one more thing, not night time walks, you are both confined to your rooms until morning."
Apparently they neglected to check up on the room distribution, but it didn't matter. Simon droned out of the room after the five minutes had passed, his face still frozen in that look of utter horror, trapped in his own disbelief as he made his way to the Goth dorms.
