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Willie and his relationship with clothes was complicated. He had almost no clothes that were fully intact, or that didn’t expose some part. He only wore the fully intact clothes when he was either in the club, or when he felt he needed to punish himself.
Sometimes he could get away with wearing his shorts at the club, but that was rare, and only on nights when Caleb was in a good mood.
The club had ruined nearly everything for Willie. Anytime he thought there was a part of him that was untainted, Caleb would do something that would ruin it for Willie. Willie used to like singing, but then he had been forced to sing for club performances, over and over. That hadn’t even been the worst part of it though. No, the worst part was as he was singing, Willie could see ghosts and lifers trading away their souls. They didn’t know the grave mistake they were making, and Willie desperately wanted to scream out at them, tell them to run away from the club as fast as they could. But no, Willie had to keep singing, or else he would get punished.
Clothes had been something that Willie had always had control of his whole life. When he reached Caleb’s club, that had all changed. Clothes could no longer be flowy and free. They were restrictive, and it felt like he couldn’t breathe every time he had to wear a nice shirt with tight sleeves.
Because of this, and because of Caleb’s conditioning that made Willie believe he didn’t deserve to be comfortable or happy, Willie would punish himself by wearing constrictive clothing. When he had hurt Alex and gotten the boys in trouble, he didn’t allow himself to wear his crop top for days. He made himself wear the very few selection of long sleeved shirts and hoodies, despite the fact that it made him feel like he was drowning. He just wanted to claw it off.
And then when he had gone and helped Alex get into the Orpheum… he had stolen the jacket to punish himself for betraying Caleb.
It wasn’t until after Alex and his friends had made him a part of their family did Willie realize how awful this was to do to himself. Alex had caught him in the middle of a panic attack, clawing at his arms and trying to rip the sleeves off of his shirt. Alex had nearly broken down in tears when Willie tried to defend and provide reason for doing it.
“Willie…” Alex had cut in at one point when Willie began rambling about how he was okay, everything was fine.
“Please, stop. Caleb doesn’t own you anymore, you don’t have to defend him.”
Willie took a shuddering breath as he processed what Alex had just said. “I… I don’t?”
Alex reached out and gently cupped Willie’s cheek in his hand. “No. You don’t. Never again.”
The others had been in the room and had heard everything. Luke slowly approached Willie, making sure not to startle him.
“Hey Willie?” He asked softly.
Willie looked up and met Luke’s eyes. He wasn’t sure if Luke completely trusted him yet, and that made Willie wary.
“If you want, I can lend you some of my shirts? None of them have sleeves, and we can always make some more crop tops too.”
Willie teared up again. It was such a kind gesture, and while Alex had told him that he deserved the world, he still didn’t feel completely deserving of this.
“I would like that,” he said quietly.
“Do you want me to stay?” asked Alex softly, not wanting to leave Willie if he still needed Alex.
“I’ll be alright, said Willie.
Alex gave Willie a smile and a quick kiss on the cheek before poofing out, leaving Willie and Luke alone.
Luke smiled at Willie, and led him up to the loft to pick out some clothes that he wanted to alter. Willie was currently storing all of his clothing in a small trash bag; it’s all he had.
When Willie picked out some of his long sleeved shirts that he wanted to cut up, Luke could already see the tension leaving his shoulders.
“You ready?” asked Luke.
Willie took a deep breath in and nodded. “Yes, I’m ready.”
Luke handed Willie a pair of scissors, and let him get to work.
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Everyone knew that Like had absolutely no respect for sleeves. He hated them with a passion. And despite the fact that he was a human heater, Alex still despaired over Luke getting frostbite during the winter. There had been countless times when Alex had tried to physically wrestle Luke into a flannel or hoodie, but it almost never worked. He would only ever wear sleeves when he was sad.
The others didn’t know, but Luke cutting off the sleeves of his shirts was one of the ways he could feel in control of his life. Emily had been controlling over him playing music, but she didn’t care what kind of clothing he wore. He could have worn a skirt for all she cared. (and he did on several occasions) He cut off his sleeves to prove that he had a hold over something in his life.
It carried over into his afterlife too. Anytime he got a new shirt, he would cut off the sleeves and let out a breath of satisfaction. It always felt good to tear off the sleeves of a new shirt.
The ripped fabric that he had stored away in the loft before he died was still there, and he would always add to it. It was weird to the others, but there was a part of Luke that didn’t want to let go of the ripped off pieces of fabric.
He had thought about it a lot, and had finally come to the conclusion that the fabric that he saved represented his mother in some way. He had removed her from his life, but never completely. Except it had just taken a physical form. Once Luke had figured this out, he vowed to himself that he would never throw away any of the cut off sleeves. It would be a reminder to do better with any relationships he had later in his afterlife, whether it be platonic or romantic, or a relationship with a parent figure.
And Luke was now using it as a way to get through to Willie, letting him know that he wasn’t a threat. He’d seen the way Willie looks at him; the wariness, the fear, and the uncertainty. Luke didn’t want Willie to be scared of him. So, this was a way for Luke to help him forget his past at the club and begin to heal, and to kickstart their friendship.
It was working too. Luke could see Willie visibly relaxing, and occasionally Willie would offer Luke a smile too.
When Willie finished fixing his clothes, he held them up proudly to show Luke.
“Those look awesome,” said Luke.
“Thanks,” said Willie shyly. “And… thank you for helping me with this. I really needed it.”
“Of course,” said Luke. “You’re family after all.”
Willie began to tear up again, and surged forward to embrace Luke. Luke hugged Willie back tightly. The bridge had been gapped, and now the healing could begin.