#shaking and blubbering like a baby who needs to be held except i’m alone so i’m desperately trying to not claw my way out of my skin

[official-lucifers-child]

just experienced true homesickness for the first time. what the actual fuck was that.

[thompsborn]

Can I get 👉👈 a Flash centric one shot 👉👈 for the song shuffle thing 👉👈

you were good to me by jeremy zucker, chelsea cutler

leavin' isn't better than tryin'

growin', but i'm just growin' tired

now i'm worried for my soul

and i'm still scared of growin' old

you were good to me

and i'm so used to letting go

but i don't wanna be alone

you were good to me

god only knows where our fears go

hearts i've broke, now my tears flow

you'll see that i'm sorry

'cause you were good to me

you were good to me

[send me a character/ship/dynamic/etc. and i’ll put my music on shuffle and write a drabble/one shot based on the first song that plays!]

actually i’m gonna wait to take more shuffle song requests until after i finish the ones i still have in my drafts!!

-

i was debating how i wanted to approach this and then earlier today @peachy-keener sent me messages about flash x harley which i already lowkey shipped before but now,,,,,,,, But Now,,,,,, they live rent free in my brain. but this is flash centric!! this is less harleyflash and more PRE-harleyflash. also post endgame.

the ending is abrupt and not good but i genuinely cannot figure out how i want to move forward so that’s the end! that’s it!

(it isn’t stated explicitly, but peterxnedxmj)

-

tw: rough childhood implications for harley, descriptions of neglectful parenting and verbal abuse, cycle of abuse, getting kicked out of the house, loneliness. it’s a hopeful ending though!! even if it is abrupt and not very good!!

-

Flash meets Harley Keener after the worst morning of his entire fucking life.

They’re going back to school, because of fucking course they are—barely two weeks have passed since Flash reappeared on the steps leading up to MoMA, tripped over his own two feet in his haste to get a grip on his bearings, and prompty slips on a step and lands nose first into the concrete, a crunch filling his ears. The public hasn’t even gotten a full release about what the hell happened—just a basic press conference, where Steve Rogers, clad in stained sweatpants and with bags under his eyes, a side of him that the public has never seen, handed his shield over to a teary eyed Sam Wilson and promised transparency and honesty, the entire story from start to finish with nothing held back, as soon as they recovered enough to give it all.

Flash doesn’t want to go back to school, except for the fact that he definitely does, if only for the chance of semblance of normalcy.

Everything is different now, after the snap. Or, the re-snap—second snap, the return, the blip, whatever the hell people are calling it. He doesn’t care about what it ends up being called. He just knows that nothing is the same, now.

His sister wasn’t one of the ones who lived those five years, crumbled to ash (dust?)just like Flash did, and he despises the meer idea of Jesse staring down at her hands in terror while watching them disappear and him not being there to at least offer comfort, or something, but he’s selfishly grateful, as well. He didn’t miss a second of her growing up. She’s only thirteen to his sixteen, after all—had she lived, he would have come back to his baby sister being a year older than him, likely a completely different person, like all the shells of people he’s seen on the streets, shells that only ignite with life when they find the person they lost. Christ, Jesse could have been one of those shells.

Thinking about it makes shivers run down his spine, his stomach churn.. He hates it. He hates how close he was to losing that.

God, he hates them—his parents, or the sorry excuse of parents that they are. He hates that he’s coming back from being dead for five years to a step-mom and a step-dad, both of whom clearly despise the fact that they’re expected to help raise these two kids who are just lost and terrified and trying to adjust. They both moved to bigger houses—that are, at the very least, still in the same neighborhood and no more than a ten minute walk apart, making it a bit easier to handle when, inevitably, Flash gets shoved into his father’s care while Jesse is lovingly enveloped into their mother’s arms.

Their mother, who seemed to care at least a little bit beforehand—always kept bandaids and juice boxes in stock, just because he had a tendency of scraping his knee in elementary school and always wanted a juice box when he got home. Sometimes, she would brush fingers through his hair and promise that she loved him, even if she knew she was awful as showing it—even if she, willingly or not, would always love her daughter more. She had not loved him like a mother, no, but like someone who at least gave a shit about his general well being.

Something—well, again, everything—has changed since before, because his mom never even looks at him anymore, barely manages a glance in his general direction whenever he happens to be nearby, which has been a lot, because the custody battle—which, of course, his father paid great money to make a priority in the courts, and then blamed Flash for because of how far he had to dip into his wallet to make it happen—has taken most of the two weeks, even though it was that first day he was shoved into his father’s house, like they knew what they wanted, like it wasn’t going to be a battle until Flash and Jesse themselves spoke up about how much they didn’t want to be separated.

Of course. More things to blame Flash about.

Which his father—and his wife, Trudy—both do. Something they like to flaunt in his face at every hour of the day, like it isn’t bad enough that he put up a fight and still ended up separated from Jesse, like he isn’t about to go back to school with a still-healing broken nose and living in a house he doesn’t know in a room that was clearly never supposed to be his and—

He wakes up the day he’s supposed to go back to school and stares at an unfamiliar ceiling and none of the posters that he had up before he disappeared, an alarm clock that must have been invented while he was gone blaring obnoxiously in his ear. It immediately sets his teeth on edge, makes his shoulders tense.

Maybe, he hopes, school will be familiar.

But everything has changed.

The school, itself, isn’t completely different, of course—classes are where they’ve always been, even if the names on the desks have changed; bathrooms are still pretty gross and have that high school bathroom smell that, for the first time in existence, he’s kind of glad to come across, if only because it makes him feel like it’s still 2018 and he’s going to walk out the door and see faces that he actually know.

He opens the door and a tall blonde guy walks into it—nose first, of course, whips his head back with a yelp and brings a hand up to poke at his nostrils, looks down a moment later and frowns at the crimson shining on the tips of his fingers, and then looks up at Flash.

Instead of anger, he grins, all crooked and boyish, and says, “Hey, we match!”

“We...” Flash trails off, confused; this guy doesn’t even sound like a New Yorker. Has the normal New York accent changed, too? The dude sound souther, for fucks sake. “What?”

Bloody fingers point at Flash’s face—actually, really, at his nose, still bandaged. “That. Noses, y’know? Pretty sure that just broke mine, so—”

“Oh, god,” Flash groans, head dropping to his hands. “Please tell me you’re joking, man.”

Stupidly, the guy pokes at his nose again—this time, at the slightly noticable crook towards the end. He sucks in a sharp breath, winces, and says, “Well, it ain’t feelin’ all that great...”

Flash groans again. “Of fucking course I just broke someone’s fucking nose. Of course.”

“Uh...” The guy frowns, glancing down as a drop of blood falls on the tip of his shoe. “S’alright. You didn’t do it on purpose, so—”

Instantly, Flash chokes on a stupidly bitter laugh. “Not like that’ll matter,” he murmurs.

“So,” the guy goes on, either not hearing Flash’s interjection or choosing not to react to it, “I don’t see what the problem is, here.”

“Of course you don’t,” Flash says, laughing again. “No one—” he stops, brows furrowing as he shakes his head. “Doesn’t matter,” he says, shouldering his backpack with a sigh. “C’mon.”

The guy doesn’t follow when Flash starts walking. When he looks back, the guy is visibly confused. “Why am I following you to a random place, and why are you looking at me like I’m the one who’s being weird right now?”

“The office,” Flash says, instead of providing, like, a real answer. The guy looks even more lost, even looks over his shoulder like Flash is talking to someone else entirely. Flash sighs. “I just broke your nose, man. We have to go to the office so you can get it checked out and tell them what happened. Call home, too, probably, since you’re pretty sure it’s actually broken.”

The guy tilts his head. “We?”

Flash’s frown deepens into a grimace. “Yeah.”

“I think I’m a bit confused, here...”

Groaning once again, Flash gestures down the hallway, in the direction he had been trying to walk, and says, “We need to tell them—”

“That I walked into a door?”

“That I broke your nose!” Flash exclaims.

The guy crinkles his nose before immediately flinching and smoothening it out. “You opened a door. The door that broke my nose because I walked into it. That’s not your fault.”

Flash stares at him, beyond confused and borderline incredulous, but he’s also tired and he doesn’t know this guy or most of the people currently attending this school and his dad married a woman who hates him and his mom also apparently hates him now, too, and he’s living in a guest room that he knows was made specifically for Trudy’s parents to visit them and Jesse doesn’t like mom’s new husband (Flash doesn’t know his name; he wasn’t introduced to the guy and was always lost in his head whenever the judge occasionally brought it up during the custody ordeal) and she misses living together but she’s becoming less and less bitter every day, gushes about how much mom spoils her and peppers her face with kisses and cries while blubbering over how much she missed her and, Christ, no one missed him!

No one. No one wanted him to come back.

“Whatever,” he tells this stranger, no longer seeing the guy, no longer caring.

He doesn’t look back when he walks away.

-

Harley Keener—as Flash later learns, since he apparently has fifth period with the guy—is, of course, friends with Parker.

Parker, who Flash will never admit to admiring, will never vocalize how jealous he is of everything that Peter has, greets Harley with a small smile, and maybe, if Flash hadn’t instantly scoffed and looked away, he could have noticed the look of understanding and grief that the both of them wore.

Though, he can’t deny, seeing someone he actually knows makes things easier. Or, at least, it does for a few seconds, until he sees the way that Leeds is quiet, staring down at his hands a lot, looking at Parker like he’s looking at a gravestone, glancing at Jones, who is damn near stoic, with pain in his features. Until he notices all the ways that they’re different, too.

He sinks his teeth into his lower lip, tastes copper, and doesn’t pay attention to the teacher—who he doesn’t fucking know.

Nothing is the same, he thinks.

Not a single god damn thing.

-

Flash finishes his junior year with no friends, bimonthly weekend visits with his sister, and so much anger burning in his veins that he spits insults at anyone who crosses his path, people who don’t get it, who will never understand.

“You’re a fucking hick that’s probably here on scholarship,” Flash snarls when Harley tries to interfere a verbal beating of a random kid who looks like he isn’t old enough to drive just yet.

Harley’s eyes harden, and his nose—not as straight, now, as it once was, a constant reminder of the break that healed just a little bit wrong—crinkles. He looks conflicted about the situation, and Flash knows that Harley has, for the past few months, been nothing but a kind stranger that tries to talk to Flash in the halls, who always asks how he is and how his day is going and doesn’t even deflate when Flash acts like it’s a hinderance, because Flash doesn’t know how to accept kindness, to react when someone seems to give a shit about him.

Jesse cares—loves him, of course. But Jesse is making friends at her school, and she’s adapting in a way that Flash can’t seem to do.

Harley is a person, a random person, who shows interest whenever he has the opportunity to talk to Flash. Who acts like, maybe, he might kind of care, too.

“Do you think anyone gives a shit about you?” Flash asks—seeing Harley’s face in front of him, sure, but his words are directed at only himself, unable to accept the idea of a stranger caring about him. “You’re nothing,” he says. “You don’t fucking matter, alright? No one fucking cares!”

And then, Parker—in a blur of motion, something awful and protective battling on his face—is standing between them. His teeth are bared like an animal, eyes burning, as he spits out, “Do not talk to him like that.”

“Peter,” Harley tries, voice weak.

Having none of it, apparently, Parker ignores his protest, tells Flash, who is shellshocked by seeing Peter genuinely furious for the first time since tripping him in the halls as freshman, “I don’t give a shit what you say to me, Flash, I’ve put up with it for years, but you do not talk like that to—to anyone else, but especially not to one of the only family members I have left!”

A wounded noise rumbles from Harley’s throat, but Flash—Flash is furious. Because, really, at least Parker has people—he has an aunt who is a better parent than either of his have ever been, friends who are so loving and protective that it feels like they’re in love with the guy ninety-nine percent of the time, and Harley, too? Harley, who has tears in his eyes and Flash doesn’t know if it’s because of his words or Peter’s, who reaches forward and yanks Peter back towards him. “Peter,” he says again, more forcefully now. “It’s fine, dude. Let’s just go.”

Parker sets his jaw and glares at Flash like his life depends on it. Flash, of course, decides to open his fucking mouth and says, “Sure, just go back to people who probably hate you—”

He doesn’t know where he’s going with that, but he doesn’t get the chance to before Ned fucking Leeds steps in front of him and swings.

He starts summer with another broken nose.

Sure, he deserves it—but it sucks, nonetheless.

-

At the start of senior year, Harley approaches him and, for some reason, apoligizes

“What?” Flash says—the only that that comes to mind, sometimes standalone, sometimes followed by an even more incredulous the fuck?

“M’sorry,” Harley repeats. “Pete shouldn’t’ve yelled at you like that, and Ned—Christ Almighty, he’s a sweetheart, but him and Michelle would do anything for Pete, and when they thought you were sayin’ that shit to him, there wasn’t nothin’ that could’ve stopped ‘em.”

Flash frowns. “Dude... what the fuck?”

Harley mirrors his frown, tilts his head to the side. “What? Am I not makin’ sense?”

“You’re apologizing,” Flash says. “To me.”

Slowly, Harley nods. “Yeah, I am.”

Flash shakes his head. “Why?”

“‘Cause you weren’t sayin’ that shit to me and Pete, that’s why,” Harley answers, almost matter of fact and simple. “I know it.” All Flash can manage to do is shake his head again, not understanding what the hell Harley is talking about, until Harley glances away, brings a hand up to scratch nervously at the back of his neck, and murmurs, “I mean... I get what it’s like, saying somethin’ about someone else that you really mean about yourself... y’know?”

He doesn’t have any semblance of control when his features go blank, when his shoulders are drawn up, defensive, disbelieveing. “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”

Harley smiles. He smiles. “Yeah, I know what it’s like to play stupid, too. Seriously—I get it.”

No one gets it, Flash thinks.

He doesn’t say it. Or anything, really.

All he does is walk away.

-

He walks away later that day, when Harley tries to approach him. He turns tail and bolts the second he sees blond hair in the distance, whether it’s Harley or not—does this for days, and then weeks, and then—

And then Harley stops trying to approach him.

Flash doesn’t get why that fact makes him heavy, his brain a taunting repetition of knew that no one cared, knew it, knew it, knew it.

Oddly enough, it hurts more than usual.

-

He graduates.

No one is in the crowd for him—his mother planned a vacation with her husband (still nameless, since Flash doesn’t care enough to learn it anyway) and Jesse that just so happened to line up with graduation. Trudy and Harrison stopped acknoledging him entirely a few months after he came back, unless out of absolute necessity and usually with scathing commentary that burn every single time.

A few people clap for him—and he knows, once he sees that it’s Harley and Peter and Ned and Michelle, that he doesn’t deserve it.

Too nice, all of them. Acting like they give a shit.

Always too damn nice.

-

It hits him, after he gets kicked out.

Hits him, suddenly, how badly he fucked it all up. How he took an opportunity that he didn’t deserve and pushed it away. Harley had wanted to be friends, had cared, whether Flash understood why or not, and Flash had been awkward and unsure and ruined everything.

He sits on the curb with a suitcase. Only one, because it’s all he had time to pack before being shoved harshly onto the streets.

Though he wants to, he doesn’t cry.

-

It’s a miracle that the number hasn’t changed.

It’s an even bigger miracle that Harley, apparently, never deleted his number after what happened, after obtaining it only because he had prompted Flash about wanting to join the Decathlon team and asked if he could text him questions about it later that day, before—

Well. Before, but after. Before Flash destroyed what he didn’t even gave, but after everything shifted, changed, began to hurt.

Miraculous doesn’t even begin to describe the slightly hopeful tone when Harley answers and, without hesitating, asks, “Flash? You there?”

Doesn’t deserve it—god, Flash should be getting spat on right now—but he needs it, now more than ever. Holding his phone tighter, he stammers out a shaky, “Y-Yeah.”

“What’s wrong?”

Maybe his voice gave it away. Maybe the fact that he’s reaching out at all. Maybe Harley just knows. Flash isn’t sure the how about it, only able to focus on making his tongue cooperate with him as he breathes out a broken kind of, “I’m sorry, I—about everything, but I—I have no one else to call and you were—the only one, y’know, who was—who was nice to me—”

There’s a faint jingle. “Where are you?”

“I don’t know,” Flash whispers, trying to blink through the tears that suddenly fill his eyes, swallowing roughly. “I just—I started walking, once it hit that I didn’t know where I should go, and I—fuck, I shouldn’t have called.”

“‘ey,” Harley says, tone—firm, angry. “I dunno what you’re thinkin’, but I’m the best person you could have called. I’m on my way, okay?”

Flash closes his eyes. “You shouldn’t.”

“Well,” Harley says, “I’m not turnin’ around.”

-

He doesn’t cry.

He doesn’t, untill Harley steps out of a car wearing pajama pants and a sweatshirt that’s inside out. Then, of course, he sobs.

Then, of course, Harley cares, like he never should have, and hugs Flash.

Jesse is the only person who has ever hugged him. His mother, almost, when he was really young, but—but no one else. No one.

In Harley’s arms, he melts.

[bapyess1r]

Head Over Heels

03. Changes

Samira’s POV

1 year ago...

“Samira-”

“Fuck off, Javi!” I barked, slamming the door in his face. I was fuming, struggling to get the leash off of my dog’s collar. Imagine this: you’re going to get coffee before work and take your dog for a walk…. just to find your boyfriend tonguing down another girl in the park.

“Hey, hey now...what’s goin’ on here?!” My roommate Brazil asked loudly, her arms crossed defensively. Her girlfriend (also my best friend), Kelly, appeared behind her with a bat.

“Jesus, babe!” Brazil exclaimed as she scurried between us and looked into the peep hole.

“Javi?!” She shouted.

“Kellz? Tell Samira to come here, right now!” Javi ordered.

“Nigga what?!” Brazil snapped, twisting her face in disgust. “He just… Did he really just fucking say that?!”

“Wait- what happened?!” Kelly voiced.

“I was walking Masego and then I checked my phone, and when I look up from my fucking phone, he’s goddamn kissing some fucking rando at fucking Greenleaf!” I sobbed, hot tears running down my face.

“Shit…” Brazil mouthed.

“Go away, Javi!” I yelled.

“Samira, please! Lemme explain-”

“Explain what, bro?!-” I snapped. I was beyond pissed. I was shaking. Brazil came to my side, rubbing small circles into my back as tears continued to fall.

“OK! Maybe you should go, man. Just for a little bit.” She said, cautioning him.

“I’m calling Honey.” Kelly whispered to her beloved as she put the phone to her ear. She patted my shoulder as she moved into the kitchen off to the side so she could hear better.

“Mira! Why won’t you talk to me?!” I could hear him holler.

“Do you seriously have to ask me that shit?!”

“Baby she was NOTHING!”

“And that’s some bullshit if I ever heard it-” Just then, Kelly appeared, linking her arm in mine.

“He’s on the way with Wonho and Shownu.” She told us quickly.

“Alright, Javi, bounce bro! Jooheon is on the way with the boiiz and I definitely don’t want you to catch that kinda ass whooping cuz we cool man-” Brazil warned.

“You think I give a fuck about two chink ass muh’fuckers-” he snapped, banging on the door. Startled, Kelly raised her bat.

“Bro you’re deadass being DUMB- get the FUCK outta there! They on they way-”

“BRUH ION GIVE A FUCK!” Javi interrupted her. I looked into the peephole and he was turning red in the face; muscles straining and veins popping from his everywhere. His brows sewn to the middle as he paced in front of the door.

“That muh’fucker better give a fuck.” Kelly mumbled.

“Hell yeah. I’m not tryna be on the receiving end of Wonho’s any fucking thing…..except-” I began with a raised eyebrow.

“Girl that’s all of us. Even me. And I like vaginas!” Brazil joked, breaking the tension. We shared a brief laugh before I shook my head slowly into tears.

“I just don’t understand….. What did I do?” I bawled. I was truly at a loss for words. I was speechless. I gave Javi….everything. He was my first love, he took my virginity, he gave me a promise ring and swore in front of a room of people that he’d replace it with an engagement ring. I let myself be unequivocally me with him…. and he played me… for who? After a few moments of me crying my heart out in front of the girls, there was a jumble of voices outside the door.

“Ayo what’s good H-”

“Shut up.” I heard Jooheon’s voice interrupt and a light thump from the sound of a fist colliding with a jaw. There was a knock at the door and when Kelly opened up, standing there alone was Jooheon, cradling his injured fist. I ran to the doorway to look down the hall and see Javi being carried away by both Shownu and Wonho’s massive builds. “Are you ok?” He asked me softly, reaching out for me. Without a word, I ran into his arms and just stayed there for a while, crying. He hushed my tears and stroked my hair, kissing the top of my head.

Two Months Later….

There was a knock on my bedroom door but I didn’t answer. “Mira?” I heard Jooheon’s voice say from the other side. My heart jerked but I was too sad to move. “A bunch of us are going to the noraebang in Korea Town…. Wonho and Shownu are going and Maura’s just come from the airport….and your sister, Lydia is in town… she wants to see you, too…” he said trying his best to make me feel better. I huffed.

“Do I have to?” I groaned.

“Absolutely not, peanut, but we’d love it if you did…. I want you there too.” Jooheon said. I laid there and pondered it. It’s been a while now….. I couldn’t be this way forever. Javi made his choice and I needed to move on… I stood up and opened the door just enough to peek through.

“Will I get to sing La-Di-Da-Di?” I asked quite hopefully. Because who doesn’t like singing Mindless Self Indulgence?

“I’ll even make sure you have backup vocals. And I could beatbox if you'd like.” His eyes softened and he gave me the sweetest smile.

“I suppose I could make myself presentable….” I sighed. And with that I turned around to go grab a jacket and a pair of duck boots.

We parked on the street and he fed the meter before taking off down the street. After walking a block, we stopped at a building with a colorfully lit doorway. “Ladies first.” Jooheon smirked, giving a dramatized bow. I popped him on the back of the head playfully and walked down the illuminated staircase. We greeted the owner and Jooheon led me to the room they rented. When we arrived, I could hear them already singing Livin’ On A Prayer at the top of their lungs.The door opened and there was Wonho and Kelly singing loudly and terribly. Just two stepping and playing the tambourine, everyone around the room clapping and cheering them on. Brazil noticed me enter and the biggest smile appeared on her face as she came to hug me.

“I’m so glad you came….” she told me as she gently squeezed me. Shownu’s gentle but stoic face displayed for once a smile. He opened his long arms to me from the red leather couch.

“Come here, booger.” He said sweetly and I ran to jump into his lap, curled up in his embrace as he rocked me to the rhythm of the music. When I looked over, sitting next to him with her arms crossed and a nervous expression was my sister, Lydia.

“Hey, sis.” She said with a small smile.

“Dia. Hi.” I said in surprise.

“I’m sorry to hear about you and Javi…” she said looking down. “Really I am.”

“I’m not…. he didn’t want me anymore and he wasn’t man enough to say so.” I said in a stale tone as I slid off on Shownu’s lap to sit between them.

“I’m glad to hear you’re ok.” He said patting my head.

“Oh no, I’m on the verge of killing myself but I don’t wanna die yet. I refuse to let him be the reason that I leave this earth. I….refuse…” Tears began to spill past the barrier as my friends’ song came to an end and the others came rushing to me. Kelly sat in my lap and wrapped her arms around my neck tightly, sobbing as I sobbed. But then I began to laugh. “Hey now!” I said looking around at the red and blubbering mugs around me. “Y’all look like shit! And red and….wet faced and…” My eyes ghosted over them all and landed on Jooheon. His eyes were red and swollen and he wiped his tears away with a sleeve. “Like someone kicked your puppy! I’m gonna be fine. I promise.” I reassured everyone except myself. Would I be fine? I didn’t know what to do with myself now. Everywhere I went reminded me of him…

“How about a song to cheer you up?” Wonho asked in his gentle but deep voice. Paired with that sweet smile of his, I couldn’t say no. And with that, we commenced karaoke night.

An hour or so passed and I was beginning to lose my voice from screaming and singing and laughing so much. I was having a great time for the first time in a while. I looked around at my friends faces and they were all drunk and happy. All except my Lydia. It wasn’t like her to not participate in karaoke. At any event. She seemed stuck in a way. Like she was nervous to make a decision. And she stayed buried in her phone, texting. I chewed my bottom lip and walked over to sit by her side. “Hiya sis!” I exclaimed with a flop on the couch. She looked startled and suddenly became flustered.

“Samira! Hi! I was looking for you…” she mumbled. I side eyed her a bit.

“I was...standing right in front of you basically… The room’s not that big.” I stated, awkwardly.

“Oh! So you were…” she trailed off and began fidgeting with her fingers. Something was wrong…

“Are you ok?” I asked her as the fear of something bad sat in my chest.

“Is there any way we can talk outside?” She asked me. I stared at her with empty eyes as I nodded and we both left for the hall without notice. But I’m sure they saw.

When I closed the door, the loud music thumped a muted bass line on the other side. Lydia pushed her long, wavy brown hair behind her ear and cleared her throat, taking a deep breath afterwards. She pulled the sleeves of her long orange cardigan over her hands and crossed her arms, staring at the ground. “What did you wanna talk about?” I asked. She sat back in her hips and held her head high as she looked at me to speak.

“Well… Samira. There’s no easy way to say this so I’ll just come out with it…..” she began in a shaky voice. I frowned, knitting my brows together tightly and flaring my nostrils. My heart was beating faced and my fists clenched up as I prepared to hear the news. “I…. I….” Her lips began to tremble and she seemed to cease breathing. “It was me.”

“Huh?” I asked confused.

“It…. it was me… Javi was kissing me at the park. It was me, Samira….” she said hanging her head, tears dripping onto the floor. I wasn’t sad as much as I was angry. I had so much rage boiling inside me that I was shaking; I couldn’t speak properly. I was just a stuttering mess.

“Y-You….” I lifted a shaky finger to point at her, stammering.

“Mira, I’m sorry…. I’m so so sorry-” And like a switch, I almost became someone else. My hand grabbed a fistful of her sewn in hair and threw her to the floor, screaming. I don’t know what happened in the next two minutes. But when I came to, Wonho was holding me by the waist, suspending above the ground; kicking and screaming and yelling. My hands hurt and my eyes burned. My sister was on the floor, disheveled and shaky, crying. Her lip was bleeding and she had a few marks on her face that Shownu was looking at and tending to. Kelly was in front of me trying to grab my attention as Wonho dragged me away, Jooheon standing between us all looking at us in shock.

“Calm down, booger-” Wonho said in a hushed tone, restraining me like a wild animal with rabies.

“I’LL FUCKING KILL YOU!!!!!!!!” I screamed at the top of my lungs.

“OOOOKAY!!!! Honey! Close out the tab, karaoke is done. Now!” Kelly barked, following Wonho as he carried me out. “And meet me at the crib.”

Author’s Note:

I hope you guys aren’t disappointed yet. There is a part two of this chapter coming soon. Pls keep reading 🥰