Chapter Text
It all started that day in the boys’ locker room.
Sometimes Gueira didn’t know why he bothered trying. He was already well aware of how weak he was compared to all the other boys. He was well aware of how much slower he ran during running days in PE. He was well aware that despite all the food he ate he was still lanky and awkward for a 16-year old. He was well aware of how easily exhausted he was doing anything physical for too long.
He was especially aware now, with his back against the lockers and three of the other boys from football tryouts towering over him.
“That was the weakest show I’ve ever seen at tryouts,” one of them was saying. “Seriously, gotta thank ya for making the rest of us look good.”
Before he could even reply, one of the other boys interrupted. “Did you seriously think you’d make the team this year? You can’t even run the field without losing your breath.”
“That…” Gueira felt his hands ball into fists. “That’s not gonna matter when I train harder!” he blurted out. “Or are you that threatened about keeping your own place on the team?”
There was only a brief moment of silence before all three boys broke into amused laughter. “Yeah right!” the first boy roared, shoving Gueira roughly into the lockers. “No way are you ever gonna drag down the team with your weak ass.”
“I think we ought to teach him a lesson in even trying,” another boy said.
“Yeah, he’s been a pain all year in my class.”
Gueira could only watch as all three of them closed in. Despite the fire of anger in his eyes and fists ready to fight back, he felt his heart threatening to beat out of his chest. This wasn’t the first time this had happened, by a long shot. No matter what he did, it’d always end with more bruises on top of bruises. And now it was going to happen again and--
“Ahem.”
All four boys turned to the newcomer: a tall, lanky kid with long black hair that would’ve made them mistake him for a girl if not for his face and undeniably deep voice. Despite the dawning summer heat, he wore his hair down and a black leather jacket over what was definitely not a school dress code-appropriate tank top.
“Can we help you?” one of the other boys asked.
“I think you ought to leave him alone,” he said, gesturing to his phone, which Gueira then realized was held upright and pointed right at them. “Unless you want suspension. And to lose your spots on the team.” He showed them the screen of his phone, and replayed a video of what just happened. The video itself was already poised to send on Twitter.
There was no big scene to be had after that. The three assailants merely looked at each other, the first one dropping Gueira and all three of them leaving the locker room with their stuff, with one or two of the boys glaring at the newcomer and all three of them grumbling about what a waste of time it all was. Once they had gone, he approached Gueira, extending a hand to him.
“Thanks, man,” Gueira said, patting himself off once he was up. “I, uh, appreciate that.” He got a good look at the other student, soon recognizing him as a loner who sat in the back of class in some of his classes, and one of the smarter students in their grade. “Uh, Meis, right? We have math and English?”
“And physics. And it’s nothing.” Meis walked past him right after saying that, to what was apparently his locker. “...”
“That’s all you gotta say about that?” Gueira asked. He remembered how, despite Meis’ status as one of the brighter kids in class, he rarely ever spoke up. “You’re like, a real quiet kid.”
“Don’t really have much to say.” After retrieving a bag from his locker, Meis picked up what looked like an instrument case, thankfully untouched, from under the bench.
“Just wanna say thanks again…” His eyes drifted to the instrument case. “Oh, that’s yours? You play guitar or something?
A small smile graced the other boy’s lips. “I dabble. I’m putting together a visual kei band, if you wanted to know.”
Gueira cocked his head to the side like a curious dog, something of a habit. “Visual kei?”
“It’s like, glam rock, I guess,” Meis shrugged in a half-assed explanation. “Something rock. Some people say metal.”
“Oh that’s really cool!” Gueira grinned with a sincerity that seemed to genuinely surprise Meis. “When’s your first show?”
“You’re… interested in that?” A quick but furious nod. “Well, we’re still working on getting a gig together, but… I’m gonna practice a bit on my own before heading home. If you, uh, wanna see what it’s like, I wouldn’t mind if you watched.”
“Oh hell yeah! Consider it thanks for saving my ass back there!”
Plus… if it means stalling getting home…
--
Watching Meis’ fingers glide along the strings of his guitar with a look of passion Gueira had never seen on him before was a good way to pass the time before heading home. There was something charming about the way Meis played. Gueira always knew him as a quiet punk with a surprisingly witty head on his shoulders. But on the guitar he was more expressive, more enthusiastic.
After parting with his new potential friend (even exchanging numbers after Gueira had apparently proved he was genuine in his interest), Gueira found himself trying to find other ways to distract himself. He was low on money as it was, so buying take-out for himself was a no-go. And he still had a report or two to write for class. He hated English but his grades were taking a hit that he didn’t want to allow to worsen. Plus he still had something of a curfew to abide by. Better to be home early than late, he supposed.
It was a challenge every night walking up the stairs to his house’s stoop. Hesitantly, he unlocked the door and entered. He felt his whole body jolt upon entering and finding his father getting up from his armchair, beer can in hand. His father leered at him. Clearly yet another rough day at work.
Gueira could only brace himself for what was going to come after. He really wished he could’ve said with confidence that he made it onto the team. He wished he could lie a little better.
--
It honestly surprised Gueira to find Meis staring at him in class the next day when he walked in and sat down a few rows away from him. He didn’t know how well-hidden of a secret it was, what kind of home he came from. But it wasn’t a thing for everyone else to worry about. As far as Gueira knew, his family issues weren’t even worth a passing rumor in the hallways.
So for Meis to approach him after class proved to be an experience for him, filled with mixed feelings. “Gueira, what happened to your eye?” he asked, almost too straightforwardly, but thankfully in a low voice as the redhead put away his notebook.
“Had a little accident on the way home last night,” Gueira weakly smiled, answering maybe a little too quickly. It wasn’t everyday someone asked what happened to him, yet he wanted to hope Meis wouldn’t pick up on the uncertainty in his voice. “I, uh, bumped into a street lamp while texting.”
“...” Meis’ lips were pursed, as if contemplating for a moment. “Okay… I got an ice pack in my bag if you want it. That thing looks swollen.”
“Uh--” Before Gueira could even respond, the other boy had taken off his bag and retrieved an ice pack from it, handing it over. “Thanks. Why do you have an ice pack though?”
“... For my lunch?”
“Oh. Thanks, man. Seriously, you’re way nicer than I thought.” To his relief, Meis merely smiled at the comment, unoffended.
“My band and I are finally having practice tonight, if you want to see us perform altogether.”
He perked up at that, forgetting his pains for just a moment. “Yeah, I think I’d like that a lot!”
--
Band practice was, undecidedly, a lot rougher than Gueira anticipated it to be. Between Meis and his two other visual kei band members, one on drums and the other on keyboard, it quickly became apparent that Meis was on his own wavelength. Minor arguments would erupt every few minutes, with Gueria simply sitting there with a rapidly emptying soda in one hand and his phone in the other. Arguments about staying on beat, trying not to play too loudly ( why they decided to practice at one of the member’s apartments was beyond Gueira), and particularly about Meis trying to take over the show himself at some points, according to the other two members (though in Gueira’s mind, they definitely weren’t putting in as much effort.)
Practice ended earlier than Gueria would’ve liked, though. It was a real shame. He really liked the way Meis played with confidence and passion yesterday. There was a fire in his eyes then that didn’t quite show as it was muffled under the influence of the other two players.
On the way out, Gueira couldn’t help but tag along beside Meis for a while, deciding it’d be better than walking home alone. “I, uh, really liked the music you guys played,” he said.
He was caught off-guard with the tranquil fury in Meis’ voice when he responded. “They don’t know what they’re doing. We aren’t gonna get a gig at this rate if they can’t put in the same effort.”
The redhead stayed quiet as they walked another half-block or so before he found it in him to talk. “Yeah, I don’t think they were on your level.”
Meis scoffed at that. “You really think that, or you just saying that?” he retorted with a half-smile, not looking at Gueira.
“I’m serious! There’s like, this… this energy in you when you play. It’s like me with football.” He looked down at the sidewalk as they walked. “Except you’re actually good at what you do.”
“Hey, you keep trying though, don’t you?” Meis said. Gueira looked up at that. “That’s pretty admirable in its own right.”
“What do you mean?”
“I remember freshman year. You were that kid who tried out and, uh, failed miserably, right?” He paused in the awkward silence that followed. “I was watching the tryouts that day.”
Gueira deflated at that, shoulders slumped as he pouted. “Gee, had to bring that up, huh?” Though he hated to admit it, it stung to be reminded of that. He was a laughing stock for a good while after that among the other football enthusiasts.
“... Sorry. Anyway, you didn’t give up, right? You still went to tryouts last year. This year too. Think that takes serious balls.”
“I don’t think I’m getting in either way this time, though…”
“Still, you get respect points for trying, for what it’s worth. I hope you get in next year, if not this year.”
“... Thanks, man.”
--
It shouldn’t have disappointed Gueira as much as it did to find the results of the tryouts posted on that corkboard in the hallway a week later. He already knew full well how lacking he was in every way in terms of what made for a good football player. He felt a shudder run up his back upon hearing familiar voices of the three boys from the locker room snicker behind him, though thankfully they chose not to confront him on the results.
Heaving a sigh, he dragged himself out of the school, opting to lay in the middle of the open PE field near where Meis first let him watch him practice his guitar. Tossing his football in the air as he lay down, he pondered on his options. His grades were shit, home sucked as usual, and now this. He fumbled in throwing the ball straight up and it flew past him. He barely cared though, just wanting to lay in the grass. Even if it meant getting dirt and bugs in his hair.
A familiar figure leaned over him a few minutes later, holding his football. “Didn’t make it, huh?” Meis asked, blocking out the sun as he stood over him.
Gueira heaved a sigh. “Nope. Thanks for coming to rub it in.”
“Sorry. Just wanted to see if you were good.” He sat beside him, prompting Gueira to sit up and hug his legs to his chest, burying his face in his knees.
“That the only reason you came out here?”
“No, I was planning to practice. But now I’m not really feeling it.” The two sat in silence for a good while until Meis broke the silence again. “So why football, anyway?”
It took a few seconds for Gueira to think of a good way to put his answer. “My dad used to play football with me. Like, a bunch, when I was little.” After a few moments, he glanced to the side, to catch a glimpse of Meis nodding as if asking him to continue. “So… I thought getting into the team would make him proud and junk.”
“I see…” Meis murmured.
“What about you and your band stuff?”
Meis grunted. “I just like the music. Pisses off my parents though.”
“Yeah?”
“It’s always ‘focus on your studies, Meis,’ ‘keep down the racket, Meis.’ So fucking annoying.” He laughed a dry laugh. “Honestly? Besides my bandmates, you’re the only one who really showed any interest.”
It hit Gueira then how easily Meis let him tag along with him to band practice after a couple days of really knowing him. “I just thought it was really neat…L
“You still mean that?”
“Yeah! Like, the makeup and stuff, I don’t think I really get yet, but the music is pretty fucking cool!”
“... Heh. Thanks.” Meis looked down at the football in his hands. “... Weird question, but do you wanna maybe show me how you actually throw this thing?”
“Why?”
“What, I’m not allowed to try and show some interest in your thing for once?” he snarked. “Let me return the favor.”
Gueira grinned at that, standing up eagerly and taking the ball from Meis. “If you insist, dude! Go long!!”
“That means ‘walk over there’ in football speak, right?” Meis asked teasingly.
“Yeah, but hurry! I haven’t someone to toss this to since tryouts!”
--
Things fell into a rhythm after that, a sort of rhythm you just kind of accept for how easily it is to slip into it. Some days Meis would offer Gueira to tag along with him to band practice (with Gueira soon befriending Meis’ bandmates even with all the disagreements floating around). Other days they’d opt to hang out at the park with some sodas and Meis would help Gueira practice his tosses (though Meis was decidedly the absolute worst person to ever try and catch a football, which did make Gueira feel a little better about himself.) Often they’d hang around school just to do homework (and boy did Gueira feel his grades improve with Meis helping him out despite his loud protests every time.) Other days they’d simply opt to walk around the streets and loiter. This went on for quite a few months.
It surprised Gueira the first time Meis pulled out a cigarette and smoked it behind a gas station after school. He never really cared for those anti-smoking campaigns considering who he lived with, and recalled a moment when he tried smoking a cigarette he stole from his dad but didn’t quite like it yet. But perhaps he should’ve expected someone like Meis to smoke. He took the cigarette Meis offered him, letting him brush close to his face with his lit one to light his in his mouth.
He was comfortable around Meis like that. Of course Gueira had other friends, friends he knew way longer than Meis. But he noticed a pattern of them moving into their own friend groups or getting girlfriends and leaving him to hang on his own. With Meis though? With Meis he felt more at ease.
It took a few weeks for him to finally divulge his home situation to Meis, but that in of itself proved greater trust than with his other friends, who barely had a clue.
“I kinda figured…” Meis muttered sympathetically, blowing a puff of smoke into the air. “Your dad’s a real jackass.”
Gueira scoffed, though it sounded more like a cough from the smoke in his mouth. “Yeah, no kidding…”
“Why don’t you just leave? Call child protection or some shit.”
Gueira’s gaze fell to the floor. “It’s not that easy, y’know… My mom would’ve wanted me to at least try and get along with him.”
The guitarist nodded solemnly in sympathy. “I see… I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Don’t be. It’s been years. But I just get so… angry at my old man sometimes…” He let the cigarette smoke roll out of his mouth in a puff. “I’m trying to honor my ma’s wishes, but he ain’t making it any easier. I swear one day I’m gonna snap… tell him how it is.”
“I feel that.” Meis leaned against the building, tapping the ashes off his cigarette. “I really do…”
“Like… Like you know the whole Burnish thing? I feel like I’m gonna end up like that at this rate.”
“You shouldn’t wish for something like that to happen,” Meis said. “You know how they treat Burnish in this country.”
“Of course I don’t want that to happen!... And just so we’re clear, I’m trusting you not to tell anyone else or I’m kicking your ass,” Gueira said pointedly.
Meis let out a bemused, quiet laugh in turn. “As if I have anyone to tell.”
“Your bandmates?”
“We aren’t actually that close, you realize.” He blew puffs of smoke into the air. “Hell, at this point I’m pretty sure they like you more than they like me.”
“Really? I wouldn’t think s--”
“Hey!!” The two were interrupted by the gas station employee rounding the corner with a bag of trash in his hand. “Hey, no loitering! You two, leave before I call the cops!”
“Tch, all right, fine!!” Gueira snapped back, before nudging Meis’ arm. “Let’s go, Meis. Fucking ass…” He had to hide his smile upon seeing Meis flash a middle finger at the employee as they sauntered away from the gas station building and onto the sidewalk.
“Ugh, seriously,” Meis rolled his eyes. “There’s nowhere to hang out around here.”
“I’d bring you to my place if it weren’t a shithole,” Gueira offered, dropping his cigarette on the cement and stomping it out.
“I’d bring you to mine if my parents weren’t so uptight…” Meis grumbled in turn. “Though… I could bring you when they aren’t home.”
“Shit man, you don’t have to if you don’t wanna.”
“It beats sticking around in this heat… You know what? My folks should be outta the house right now actually, if you’re up for it.”
Gueira perked up at that. “Yeah, sounds good!”
- -
The spacious and downright lavish rooms (at least; compared to what Gueira was used to) within Meis’ house betrayed nearly all of Gueira’s expectations for him. He would’ve thought they were breaking into some rich asshole’s house with how nicely decorated and clean the place was. Meis’ room, though, was everything Gueira would’ve probably expected out of him.
Posters of visual kei bands were posted messily across the forebodingly gray walls. Though he knew better than to point it out, Gueira couldn’t help but notice packs of makeup sitting on a vanity on the other side of the room, nor could he ignore the stacks of magazines peeking out from under the messily-made bed.
“Dude, sweet place,” he opted to say anyway. He meant it. “If I had the money I’d wanna do something like this with my own bedroom.”
“Sorry about the mess though,” Meis said, kicking some stray magazines and clothes back under the bed before flopping on his back. “Don’t exactly get company often.”
“Not even chicks?” Gueira asked with a cheeky grin, only to receive a cocked eyebrow in return. “No? Seriously? You seem like the kinda guy who’d get a lotta chicks digging him.”
“You really haven’t been paying attention the past few months, huh?” Meis snarked dryly.
“Hah, see, the moment I walk into that school building, my attention span just kinda turns off, y’know?”
“I can see that… Your grades are getting better though, aren’t they?L
“Hell yeah they are! Thanks to you, though.” Gueira rummaged through his backpack, taking out a slightly crumpled paper. “Check it, I even got an A on that last physics test!”
“You’re doing great.” Meis’ lip curled into a smile as he sat up. “Now would be a good time to study more if you’d like.”
Although they hadn’t actually planned anything for when they arrived at Meis’ house, Gueira couldn’t resist pouting at the idea. “Aww, for real?”
“You know soon we’ll be applying for college… Actually, what are you planning on doing for college?”
“... I dunno, honestly. No way could I afford the tuition without a scholarship. And no way am I getting one for grades OR sports… W-What about you?”
“I dunno what I wanna major in is the issue…” Meis lowered himself onto the floor where Gueira sat, notebooks and assignments already out. “I don’t like thinking about it.”
“Well, I betcha’ll find out where you wanna go into soon enough!”
“Mm. Hope so.” His eyes fell on Gueira’s backpack. “So, if we’re gonna work on stuff, what do you want to go over first…”
- -
If only the book they were to read for English hadn’t been a literal snooze-fest.
Gueira groaned as he picked himself off the floor upon waking up from what was probably a well-deserved nap. He shook off the grogginess, trying to take in his surroundings. That’s right, he was in Meis’ room. He picked himself up from a few scattered papers, assignments he and Meis were supposed to do together.
Of course, it proved to be so boring to him he just had to doze off. He would’ve apologized then and there for falling asleep on his friend’s floor if not for the fact Meis had also somehow managed to fall asleep next to him, leaning his head back on his bed.
A glance at the wall clock, however, sent Gueira into a panic.
It was well past midnight. Well past the time his father implicitly found acceptable to arrive at home.
In his scramble to pick up his own scattered papers, Gueira accidentally woke Meis with the noise. “Shit, I need to go now…” he muttered in a near-frenzy.
“Gueira…?” Meis muttered, rubbing his eyes awake. “Did we seriously fall asleep?”
“I can’t talk, I gotta get going.” Hastily, he zipped up his backpack, not caring about the messy papers inside.
“What? What time—“ With his own glance at the clock, Meis snapped awake. “Shit, it’s late!! You need to leave!”
“That’s what I’m doing, fuck! Sorry, man, I didn’t meant to stay this long! I’ll catch you at school tomorrow!”
“Hold on, I can give you a ride!”
“You never told me you drove?” Gueira said, eyes wide as he put on his backpack.
“School’s close enough for me to walk, but I got a bike that’ll be way faster for you.”
Upon remembering the distance between his and Meis’ homes, Gueira nodded in reluctant agreement. “All right, but I’m just gonna owe you one more thing on top of everything else.”
“Don’t worry about it. Hurry, and be quiet, I don’t want my folks hearing.”
Treading quietly through the spacious halls, Gueira quickly followed Meis. He couldn’t help but catch glimpses of the fancy paintings and decor situated along the walls. His folks must make a lot, he thought. If he weren’t already leaving, he’d have had time to express looking forward to coming back.
But those hopes were dashed upon the flicking on of a lamp as they crossed the living room to get to the garage. Stopping dead in their tracks, the two boys turned to an armchair in which an older man sat with a stern expression.
“Meis.” Just the utterance of his name caused Meis to roll his eyes. “Just where do you think you’re going? Who is this?”
“Ugh, God,” Meis muttered under his breath in clear exasperation.
“What was that, young man?”
“Look Dad, I just need to drop off my friend, okay?” he replied through nearly grit teeth. When the man, his dad, didn’t respond, he continued. “Look, I’m sorry, we fell asleep doing homework and—“
One look from the older man at Gueira sent a chill down his spine. He knew that look instinctively, a look of disapproval. With a heavy, almost exaggeratedly tired sigh, Meis’ father looked to his son. “Just go. We’ll talk when you get home, Meis.”
Gueira turned to his friend, whose stony expression faltered just for a moment before he ushered Gueira through the door to the garage, immediately opening the garage itself once they were through. “I’m really sorry about getting caught,” he said after a moment.
“Just… don’t worry about it,” he said, not looking Gueira in the eye as he guided him to an almost pristinely clean motorcycle and handed him a helmet. “I can take anything he has for me when I get back.”
Another chill ran down Gueira’s spine. After experiencing the things he’d experienced with his own father, he couldn’t help but question that sentence. “You’re gonna be okay, right?”
“Of course.” With that stalwart response, Meis hopped on his bike with a helmet on. “Get on. You’re gonna have to guide me as we go.”
With just a touch of hesitation, Gueira clambered onto the bike behind Meis. He couldn’t help but admire the sleek smoothness of the bike itself, even with the helmet on his head feeling like it was too small. When the bike’s engine roared to life (if they hadn’t already been caught, they definitely would’ve been caught then and there) and rolled onto the street, garage closing behind them, Gueira found himself clinging to Meis’ back out of fear of flying out the seat once they picked up speed. Then again he was probably supposed to do that, wasn’t he? He didn’t know. The fact Meis didn’t respond to it reassured him at least.
Most of the ride was silent. Every now and then Gueira had to shout directions over the wind. Meis sure did drive fast for someone driving at night. But it was just like him, Gueira thought. Maybe the speed was just a silent way of venting anger. He felt that.
As they neared Gueira’s neighborhood, Meis slowed down enough that Gueira found he could talk properly, at least enough to attempt to cheer up Meis a bit. “This is… uh… a pretty sweet ride, by the way.”
“Thanks.” Even with Meis’ back to him and his face mostly blocked by his helmet, Gueira could imagine him smiling back at him. “Got it for my birthday. I don’t take it out very much though.”
“Why not?”
“Not enough places to go in this city. And like I said, school’s close enough to walk. I don’t wanna pay for gas all the time.”
“I’ve always wanted a ride like this baby though!!” One of Gueira’s hands found itself briefly stroking the side of the bike. “If I had one of these, I’d be showing it off.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. But personally I like ATV’s better.”
“All-terrain vehicles?”
“You got it! Y’know, like quad-bikes. Those things are sick.” The excitement in his voice began to fade as he realized they were nearing his place. As the bike rolled to a stop, Gueira took a moment to collect himself, readjusting the straps on his backpack before dismounting and taking off his borrowed helmet.
Meis noticed his discomfort instantly. “Are you going to be okay?”
Despite his hurry to get home, Gueira stood there, almost unsure of whether or not he really wanted to step inside that house.
Still, he managed a reassuring smile and nodded. “Yeah, I’ll be fine,” he lied. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? You take care.”
The look on Meis’ face told him he really wasn’t getting any better at lying. Still, the long-haired teen nodded once again before starting to drive off again. “Right. See you…”
After watching his friend drive off into the night, Gueira turned around, taking a deep breath before unlocking the door and stepping inside his house. It was dark inside, like it almost always was whenever he was there. Already he felt unease pooling inside him.
Dad was getting angrier and angrier with every day after work. The bruises left on Gueira’s body were evidence of that. Every time the teen entered the house, he couldn’t stop his heart from beating out of him. He couldn’t quite stop the dread accumulating in his stomach either.
It wasn’t fair. This wasn’t how things should be. This wasn’t want Mom would’ve wanted.
Why couldn’t he be braver like Meis? Why couldn’t he just stand up to his own father and fight back?
He knew full well why. He was weak. He always was, he supposed.
He just wanted to get up the stairs and pretend he wasn’t just spending longer than he should’ve at a friend’s place.
But at the first step up the stairs, at the first creak, the dreadfully familiar voice of his father came from behind him.
“ And just where were you? ”