Chapter Text
In Illi's room the walls rattled with Hole’s “Jennifer's body,” Illi’s stereo turned up to maximum level. She leaned close to the cracked mirror full of stickers and lipstick drawings, smudging black eyeliner into a wing that curled upward like a knife. Her lipstick was cheap cherry red, bleeding out at the corners because she kept licking her mouth while humming.
Behind the door, their mom’s voice is heard from the other side of the house, half slurred and loud:
"GERARD! You’re wasting your life, you hear me? Can’t even look like a girl properly, you think anyone’s gonna love you looking like that? God, you fucking look like-"
"SHUT UP!" Illi yelled back, not even flinching, not even pausing the music or looking away from her chaotic make-up trying to somehow cover the black eye she got a few days ago. "Give me one goddamn second of peace in this house, for once!"
Her tone wasn’t scared or submissive. It was sharp, like she was talking to a drunk neighbor, not her own mother.
On Illi's bed, Mikey sat stiff in his Smiths t-shirt and skinny jeans, knees together, staring at the floor. His hands curled around the hem of his shirt, tugging it tight over his stomach. His thumb pinched the soft skin underneath, quick, guilty, before he released it and reached for his inhaler. He hated how the cotton stretched when he breathed.
Illi glanced at him through the mirror. "Don’t start," she muttered, cigarette dangling from her lips unlit. "You look fine. Nerd chic."
"Whatever." Mikey said. He sniffed with a flat voice, he avoided looking at the mirror where Illi is sitting, he awkwardly stared at the window. "It's getting dark, can't you do your make-up faster?"
Illi started giving her eye another layer of eyeshadow. "It keeps falling, not my fucking fault." She said, a little muffled with the cigarette hanging from her mouth, tainting it a cherry colour from her cheap lipstick.
The mother knocks the door obnoxiously, it sounds like she's falling from the other side to the door. "GERARD! Open the fucking door, you are too young to become a slut! And letting all rub off on your little brother?" She asks, as loud as always. Her words slurred together, spit hitting the wood as she screamed.
Illi finally looked at the door, half enraged and half actually hurt. "OH MT GOD SHUT THE FUCK UP!" She snaps, holding the cigarette out of her mouth and throwing the brush to the floor with a loud "THUMP!"
Mikey goes behind her and grabs her shoulders. Not surprised nor disappointed, just tired. "You gonna blow Frank's dick with that mouth?" He asks with a tiny smile tugging at his lip, hoping to light the mood.
Illi actually relaxed. For a moment, the raw guitar riff and Courtney Love's vocals was the only thing heard in the room. Illi sighed and smiles softly. "No." She answered, rushing to the door. "Let's go Mikey, it's late, isn't it?"
Mikey turns off the music and he scooped the clothes from the floor with mechanical ease, like he always did before leaving the house, and throws them to his sister's bed before he follows her fast without saying a word.
After picking the bus, in 20 minutes arrived to their friend's place. Frank’s house looked like it belonged to a lawyer or a senator, all spotless glass and polished wood floors. Mikey wiped his black boots on the mat twice before stepping in. Illi didn’t bother. She marched in, hideous green cardigan falling off one shoulder, babydoll blue dress contrasting with her dumb blue hair clip.
"Your parents are loaded." She muttered, looking around at the chandelier like she's visiting a European gothic church.
Frank grinned, flicking his lighter open and shut as he kicked the front door closed, forcing his voice to be raspy. "Yeah, well. Don’t let it fool you. They’d buy a fucking plane and will never use it. Like this house basically..."
The words hung heavy for a second, getting slightly awkward, but Frank shrugged them off. "Anyways, guys, you have to see this." He says, leading the siblings to the kitchen where a pile of junk food was spread across the marble island: chips, soda bottles, cold pizza boxes. He tore a bag of Doritos open with his teeth and spilled half onto the counter. "Feast of kings." he declared, spraying crumbs when he talked.
Illi cackled and hopped up to sit on the white marble counter, chewing open-mouthed and kicking her legs against the cabinets like a child. "This is so much fun. Trashing your daddy’s kitchen with orange dust." She smirks. "I'm starting to like your contradictory rich-punk side."
Mikey sat at the table, cracking open a soda. He felt small in the cavernous dining room, but when Illi snorted and Frank tossed chips at her while they laughed, he almost smiled. Almost.
By midnight, Frank’s living room looked less like a mansion and more like a cave. Empty soda cans, chip bags, the living room dark with the only light of the TV screen playing some western movie on mute while Jack of Jill blasted from the stereo, then switched abruptly to The Misfits because Frank "needed the mood right."
Illi lay belly-up on the couch, cardigan open, shoving cheese puffs into her mouth by the handful. "Do you think I will die of a heart attack if I finish another one of these?" she mumbled, orange dust coating her cherry coloured lips.
Believe me, you'll end up choking before that" Mikey muttered, curled up in the armchair with his hoodie zipped up over his britpop t-shirt. He had a bag of cookies hidden under his arm, sneaking bites when he thought no one was looking.
Frank noticed, of course. He grinned and leaned back against the wall, flicking his lighter open. "Hey, Nerd chic! Filling your mouth like a squirrel while you think nobody's looking, huh?"
"Shut up..." Mikey snapped quietly but firm, pressing his lips flat and pushing his glasses up his nose.
Ray, sitting cross-legged on the floor with a soda in his hand, suddenly chimed in: "You know, squirrels can’t actually digest Doritos. It clogs their intestines and they… um… explode."
Everyone turned to stare at him. Awkward.
"Those are not even Doritos, what the fuck, Ray?" Illi asked before wheezing, crumbs flying out of her mouth as she laughed like it was the best punchline ever.
Frank laughs, brushing his hair even though he is probably about to sleep. "Yeah, what the fuck, Ray?" He repeats with his deep, raspy voice, side eyeing Illi.
Ray’s ears burned red, but he added, almost desperately as if he didn't know what to say. "I mean, humans too. Probably."
Illi threw a puff at his head. "Please, stop it."
The four of them sat in a loose circle on Frank’s rug, the snack trash shoved into the corner. The chandelier overhead made everything look too formal for a bunch of kids in eyeliner.
Frank flicked his lighter open and shut, smirking. "Alright, truth or dare. No cowards allowed."
Illi crosses her arms, a small smile peeking from her bored expression. "Dare. Always dare."
Ray brightened, like he’d been waiting to participate. "Uh- okay! Dare you to… drink… a whole glass of water!" He looked proud of himself.
The room went dead quiet.
Illi snorts, looking at Ray with confusion. "Water?? Toro, what the fuck. That’s not a dare, that’s hydration!"
Mikey groaned into his sleeve. "Please, Ray, I can't keep defending you after that..."
Ray’s face burned. "Well, you didn’t specify what kind of dare-"
"Fine. Don't worry, I'll do it." Illi cut in, still wheezing. She grabbed Frank’s half-empty soda, tipped a fistful of chips into it, and swirled it around until it looked like sludge. "Look. Now this is a dare." Then she drank it in two gulps, burping loud enough to rattle the windows.
Frank actually looked starstruck. "Holy shit-" he muttered under his breath, looking at Illi and touching his chest like an old woman.
"God, you’re so pathetic." Mikey muttered, shaking his head.
Illi wiped her mouth with the back of her cardigan, grinning. "Don’t be jealous, Mikey. Some people just have fans."
"Fans with brain damage." Mikey shot back.
Ray, trying desperately to redeem himself, blurted: "Okay, okay, Frank! Truth or dare!"
Frank leaned back with a fake-cool smirk, composing himself after witnessing the last dare. "Dare, obviously."
Ray thought for a long second. "Um… I dare you to… say something nice about Illi. Can you...?"
Frank stared blankly and then chuckled. Mikey facepalmed. Illi raised her brows, grinning wide.
Frank stammered, suddenly pale. "I—uh—you’re… pretty cool."
Illi cackled. "That’s the dumbest thing anyone’s ever said to me."
Ray looked pleased with himself. "See? That dare wasn’t so bad, was it?"