#and I’m still being the fucking therapist for my slightly less homeless friend now

[nix-that-rad-lass]

Legit it just keeps going downhill lol

Idk how I’ve made it the like seven years of owning a phone I have without shattering a screen until now but I did it

[def-ace-ing-it]

Life Moves On- Chapter 1

Pairings: N/A (yet)

Summary: Virgil dreads his first day

Warnings: food mentions, anxiety attack mention, verbal abuse implications, swearing (let me know if I need to add anything else!)

Author’s note: Behold, the monstrous fic that will probably take more than a year to finish (maybe, I’m estimating tbh). This may be horrendous since its my first chaptered fic but I’m very proud of the storyline. The warnings for this fic will change based on the chapter so, yeah, enjoy!

Word count: 1,095

Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

***

Virgil didn't expect for his life to end up like this. He didn't expect that at 12 he’d have to go to a therapist, he didn't expect his father to drop him and his mother like they were week old garbage, he didn't expect that at 13 years old he and his mom lived in a homeless shelter. He didn't expect to develop PTSD and GAD before he was even in high school, and he definitely didn't expect how hard it was going to be to recover from everything.

Yeah, Virgil Tart didn't expect anything that happened to happen. But sometimes, as he's learned a long time ago, bad things happen for no reason, and they definitely don't discriminate.

But at this point in his life, he wished that they did choose someone else.

Yes, he knew that things would get better, and that he will heal (eventually), but he really wanted for these sessions to be over with. No it's not that he hated his therapist (Emile was probably the best therapist he could have gotten), it was just, tedious to him.

But right now, therapy was the least of his worries. What he was currently worried about was his first day at his new high school, Silverleaf High, and he was absolutely terrified. It wasn't the possibility of being bullied, or the possibility that any friends he made would abandon him, no. He was dreading the damn roll call of all things, he couldn't stand being called the name his dad gave him at birth. Sure he and his mom had went to the office and made sure his old name wouldn't be called, he just wasn't ready to take that chance, but alas he still had to go because it's the law.

So here he was, laying in his bed, staring at his ceiling and hearing his phone’s alarm blaring to his left.

Virgil sighed, and sat up, stretching in a small attempt to get rid of some of the pressure in his upper spine. He reached over the side of his bed and turned off his alarm. He got out of bed and turned of his lamp, shuffling towards the chair in the corner of his room. He quickly undressed and pulled on the clothes he sat on the chair, adjusting the clothes that needed to be adjusted.

Virgil made his way out of his room and down the hallway. He reached the end of the hallway and swiftly turned into the kitchen. His mom was already sitting there at the table, looking more tired than the last time he saw her. She looked up at him and gave a weak smile.

“Hey Vee, you ready for your first day?” She asked in the happiest voice she could muster despite going on very little sleep. Virgil just grumbled out a few consonants and vowels that could vaguely be put together into a sentence that was made by someone who didn’t know the english language, “It’s a bad day, isn’t it?” Virgil nodded, grabbing an apple off the table and hopped onto the counter before biting into it.

His mom sighed, getting out of her chair and made her way over to him, “I know I can’t do much to help you, but,” she takes a deep breath, “I am so, so proud to be able to call you my son. And I will try my best to make things better for you.” Virgil gave her a small smile.

Virgil quickly finished his apple and reached into the portable fridge for a bottle of water. He took a sip to wash the apple down then sat it down on the counter and headed towards the bathroom.

He brushes his teeth, probably for less time than is recommended (but he has to conserve water so his mom doesn’t have to work as hard), and reaches for the makeup kit that sat on the counter. After applying the primer, concealer, and eyeliner, he feels almost ready. He adds the final touches to his lower eyelid with his black eyeshadow, making sure it looks blended enough before exiting the room. He grabbed his backpack and pulled it over his shoulders, pulling his black a purple hood over his head.

“Bye mom, good luck with work.” He said softly, grabbing the water bottle off the counter before exiting the apartment. He headed down the three flights of stairs and out the back door and started his trek to school.

By the time he got there, the sun was mostly over the horizon and he could see plenty of kids either getting off the bus or getting out of parked cars. He can feel the beginning of a minor anxiety attack start to form but he quickly followed the breathing exercise Emile taught him. After a minute of the repeating pattern, he felt well enough to enter the school.

Despite having been in the building when nobody else but the staff was in it, it suddenly felt so much bigger than what he remembered. He felt so small.

‘Today’s gonna be one hell of a day.’ Virgil thought, heading to the first corner of the commons he saw that wasn’t taken by a group of teens and sat on the floor. He pulled off his bookbag and reached for his phone.

But he didn’t find it, because he left it in his room.

“God fucking damn it.” Virgil said under his breath, realizing just how loud the room was. He was completely fucked.

He just sat there, waiting and praying for the bell to ring so he could get to his class. He reached back into his bag and pulled out his sketchbook.

It was torn slightly around the edges and was a metallic black color. He opened it to a blank page, pulling a pencil out of the front pocket of his hoodie, and started to sketch. Before he knew it, the bell rang and he had finished the sketch. He didn’t realize that he was sketching a small group that was off in the corner until he looked at the image closely.

The group was close together, the tallest of the three was laughing in such a way that he could hear the booming laugh through the sketch. The one in the middle was giggling and the smallest of the three was pinching the bridge of his nose despite the small smile on his face.

Virgil sighed and got up, closing his sketchbook and headed to his next class.

This was going to be a long day.