Work Text:
ethan knew he was far from perfect, even he knew that much.
it didn't really take a genius to come to terms with the fact that cursing out adults, stealing whatever looked expensive, and publicly graffitiing property wasn't exactly on the list of “friendly neighborhood things to do.” even so, he knew he was happy with this sort of life, one where he didn't have to let worries drag him down or stop him from doing what he pleased. what was the point in just subjecting himself to the whole ordeal of following all the rules strictly by the book until he died? it was miserable and, frankly, life was something he wanted to live, especially since that wasn't particularly an option at home. at school, he felt free. he could skateboard down the halls, flip off teachers, curse aloud whenever he failed a worksheet he absolutely didn't try on, it was everything he could ask for.
and, when that was over and he had to return to the building called his home, it would all fall to shambles.
the smell of whiskey and beer becomes familiar after experiencing it nearly every time his father returns home from a “business trip,” whatever the hell that meant. it's no shock for ethan to slip in through the back door of his house and find his father lazily lying on the leather chair in the living room, watching some stupid sports game with his seventh can of beer. an unopened bag of luggage was sat by the front door, leaving ethan to assume it was left there the moment his father stepped inside. he hadn’t even realized upon stepping into the building that his hands were clenching the straps of his backpack, the cheap material leaving a burning sensation on his fingers. ethan almost found himself holding his breath as he attempted to quietly slip by his preoccupied father, aiming to make a beeline to his room upstairs and lock the door. unfortunately, there was a clearing of someone’s throat as he made it to the base of the stairs. ethan resisted the urge to roll his eyes, instead only letting out a sigh before shooting a look to his father, who still had his own attention on the television.
“ethan,” his father started, bringing the beer to his lips and taking a swig. “heard you got yourself in trouble again. school’s been callin’ me about it.” the words were slurred and put together in a way where it sounded as if it were all meant to be strung together in one go, only making ethan’s eyes narrow.
“yeah, so what?” he responded, a sharpness to his voice. who was this guy to barge into his business after being away from the house for weeks at a time? the only good thing about him was that he threw enough money at ethan to keep himself busy and alive for the blank periods of alone time inside. “i dealt with it. i’m not getting suspended or whatever.” the sentence was bolder than initially intended, and a part of him found himself swallowing something akin to nervousness down as the volume of the tv was muted. a silence held in the air as his father slowly turned towards him, intoxication of the alcohol visible through his blood-filled face. his hands clenched onto his bag tighter as his expression went through no visible change, simply waiting. sure, he’d rather this conversation didn’t happen while his father was drunk out of his mind and was more than likely to throw fists out, but it just gave ethan a better reason to demand more money from him the next time he was sober.
“you’ve got important shit to be focusing on.” it was almost a warning, one that ethan was used to deflecting. “your grades are shit– and don’t lie to me, i’ve seen your card–, and there’s no way any college is gonna take you up at the rate you’re going at. you’re fucking up your own future, and i’m not going to stand a leeching son.”
maybe a couple of years ago, those words would have hurt. a younger ethan’s eyes would have burned at the harsh reality check, and a younger ethan would have bitten on the inside of his cheek, hard enough to draw blood, before letting a couple of tears slip down his face. but, that wasn’t him. present ethan only stared with an unhidden glare, pointed and poisoned, as he let a smirk ride up across his lips. there was a smug tilt of his head, a laugh of exasperation escaping from his lips in the form of a scoff. “yeah, i’ve heard. can i go to my room now? like you said, i’ve got a ton of important shit to be focusing on, like, homework or something.” the sarcastic tone lacing each syllable he spoke didn’t go unnoticed and only seemed to further aggravate the already agitated man.
and, not even a moment later, ethan had to raise his arm up, shielding himself from the half-full beer can thrown at him. there was a crashing thud as the aluminum landed unceremoniously on the floor, his father seeming to heave with boiling anger. ethan’s fist was clenching as he felt his arm drenched with the strong-smelling alcohol, some of the beer having splashed onto his clothes and a bit of his hair. fuck, that was gonna be a bitch to clean out later. the can rolled and rolled, whatever leftover contents inside being spilled out and leaving a disgusting puddle on the ground– somehow making ethan feel sicker than when the time he watched his friends all throw up into the same trash can.
“you can’t talk to me that way!” ah, his dad was shouting. great. just what ethan needed, another earful from another adult and possibly a noise complaint from the neighbors, again. there was spit flying out of the guy’s mouth from how much momentum was going into his yelling. “i have done so much for you, given you a house, given you money for your meals, a car to get to school, you are taking that all for granted, just like your mother.”
ethan flinched. there was a tension that spread throughout his entire body, his muscles seeming to all agree to tighten as much as possible. he stared at the man– a stranger– who stood in front of him, baring his yellow-stained teeth. insults towards him were something he could handle, something he has been handling, but it felt entirely different being compared to his mom.
his mom. could he even call her that?
ethan remembered loving her, smiling whenever she hugged him and called her his sweet little angel. there came memories of him telling her how his day had gone, or singing her those new songs he had learned at school. some of the most important moments in his life were reprised of her teaching him spanish from day one, helping him pick up a fluency for the language. he was a naive child, now that he looked back on it. it was stupid to be so attached to a woman whose smile never met her eyes, whose gaze always seemed to be yearning for something greater than just the life of staying at home with a little boy. maybe he had realized that, even at the young age of five. maybe he had been clinging onto her so tightly in those hugs of his because it was his way of asking her not to go, to ignore the things his father did to her– or rather, to other women–, and to stay.
the last he remembers of her is her tucking him in at night, his bedroom being dimly lit by the open curtain. there were lips pressed against his forehead, fingers caressing his cheek so carefully, so filled with love, despite the fact it would be the last time. ethan had stared up at her with those big doe eyes that she always said she adored, and she had whispered something into his ear. it was so quiet, that even in the stillness that they sat in, he could hardly hear it.
it wasn’t an “i love you,” but rather, “my sweet little ethan, goodbye.”
and just like that, she was gone. her room was empty when he had gone to say good morning to her, and it stayed that way, untouched for years.
if he was being honest, ethan didn’t know how he felt about her anymore. he found it easier to hate her than to really ponder the intricacies of whether he missed or her not. it was simpler to ignore the question that always sat in the back of his mind, the one that caused a burden to cling onto his shoulders, whispering into his ear the little things that made him loathe every part of himself– why wasn’t he enough for her to stay?
there were plenty of answers, some being that she didn’t love him enough, her father was too much of a pain and it outweighed him, or that he simply wasn’t a good son.
he hated thinking about her, and as his father directly claimed that he was just like her, something churns in his stomach. ethan felt as if he was going to puke on the spot, everything seeming to feel like it was intensified– the horrid smell of alcohol, the taste of the gum he had been chewing earlier, the sticky feeling of beer on his bare skin, and the stinging sensation of his nails pressing too far into the palms of his hands. “keep it together,” he thought to himself bitterly, sucking in a long breath through his nose and exhaling it through his mouth.
a huff before another smirk arose, that cocky facade of his coming back with no hesitation. “me? like mom? you wish i’d get off your ass so you can, what, go make out with whatever woman you’re paying to screw you?” he furrowed his eyebrows, pretending to have come to a realization. “oh shit, you already do! that’s my bad, really. how could i forget? so sorry.” everything he said rang with a sardonic undertone, an attempt to get underneath his old man’s skin. he could see the scalding irritation heating up in the other’s eyes, and for a mere moment, ethan could recognize that look on his face. briefly, he readied himself to think up an excuse for the bruises he was ready to sustain, but the tension was cut through by the sound of a ringtone.
it wasn’t his own, and his father was digging through his pocket to check on who was interrupting the moment. judging by the expression that came across his face, it was one of the mistresses, probably the one he had just spent weeks on end with. he only stared as his father slumped back onto the couch, pulling out another can of beer from the pack and cracking it open, shooting one more scowl towards ethan before picking up, switching to a cheery tone. “hey, darlin’! i didn’t think you’d be calling, what’s going on?”
ethan couldn’t stand listening to this, so he took the opportunity to go to his room, sending a message by slamming his door shut and throwing his bag to the ground. he knew there were things to do, like the worksheets that were assigned for homework, or even the essays that he had been putting off for ages now, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. instead, he pulled his phone out of his pocket, collapsing onto his bed and opening his messages with devi up.
u busy?
there wasn’t a reply right away, which he was fine with. he could acknowledge the fact that devi was a busy person, and her schedule was packed these days for–
ah shit, right.
nvm, good luck for tmrw
ur gonna walk into the dork conference and i bet ur gonna get admitted right away
2 easy for u
he sent them all and turned his phone off, throwing his forearm over his eyes and letting a sigh come from him, the darkness a welcome sight. his legs hung off the bed, his feet connected to the floor as his back laid on the mattress, a weirdly comfortable thing for him. what was not comfortable, however, were the thoughts about that stupid college fair that plagued his mind. don’t get him wrong, ethan had no intention or interest on checking anything related to early admission out, hell, he wasn’t even sure if he was going to college, but the thought of devi stressing out about it made him nervous.
devi was someone he had a lot of faith in– maybe even too much. she was probably the smartest person he’s ever met, and on top of that, the prettiest, and her personality was one to be feared. straightforward and bold, not afraid to do what she has to in order to get what she wants, and despite everything she has gone through, she still manages to be respected and cared for by a good amount of people. she was able to move on from her mistakes, to actually grow from them, and become better from the things she had gone through.
she was everything that ethan strived to be back then.
it’s funny, really, since if someone were to look at ethan back then, they would never be able to connect him to what he was like presently. a short, boring kid who actually tried at school and passed with flying colors, with an academic score so high that teachers doubted the sheer possibility of him not getting into a good school in the future. it was when freshmen year came by that ethan realized he was sick of it.
those stupid rules that society had set forth to succeed, the ones that only benefited those who either gave up their freedom or straight up just didn’t deserve it. what was the point in playing a game that was rigged from the beginning? what would even happen if he kept trying to pass by life fighting for the top and bending over to impress these people who dictated the futures of others? he’d just be another cog in the machine that’d eventually get scrapped for something newer and better.
so when he let go, there was a switch that clicked.
there was something relaxing about not having to worry about the little things that people were forced to be concerned about, and he would be lying if he said that seeing his father’s disgruntled acts of trying to set him back straight wasn’t entertaining enough to keep it going. it also felt great to say fuck you to the adults that expected him to fit into this picture perfect mold despite growing up feeling the shittiest he ever could have felt. they didn’t care about his wellbeing, they cared about how useful of a person he’d be in a future society. so, no, he didn’t regret his decision on becoming the way he was.
but, every time he looked at devi, he wondered if he could’ve been just like her. if he could’ve been as kickass and awesome as the girl who he couldn’t keep his eyes off of, to become as persistent and admirable as her. though, the whole idea of these admission officers bugged him. he hated the thought of devi having to throw herself at the feet of this stranger in order to possibly appease them into letting her into their stupid school. they were just dangling her future in their hands without a care, weren’t they?
before he could think about it any further, his phone buzzed. when he went to check, he found a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
thanks! i’m just going through my speech one more time.
i’ll see you tomorrow? ❤️
ethan’s chest felt warm.
yeah, see u tmrw
“you’re not a bad boy, you’re just a bad person.”
fuck, when was the last time words hurt?
ethan had heard it all, every possible negative term on someone that could be used, he’d been on the receiving end, and he was fine with that. it was no secret that he wasn't exactly the best tool in the shed, but really, how was that his fault? it wasn't him that chipped the metal points that made him useful, nor was it him that made the wooden grip worn and filled with splinters. even with experience, there was something that set this far apart from every other person who had insulted him. there was a shattering of some sort that he felt, as if there was something in him that had been broken. he could only stare at devi with a look of defeat, the hurt clear in the specks of white that swam in the coal black. despite the mantra being something that has been echoed in his mind a myriad of times, it felt painful coming from her.
though, he wore a simple expression, the most unfazed one as possible. there was a lift of his eyebrows, feigning a nonchalant air. a part of him wanted to apologize, to say, "sorry for disappointing," but the words only lodged in his throat. what point was there in that? it was obvious he was going to let her down, but fuck, did it still make him feel like shit. when he told her he liked her, part of him had been hoping that this could be something new, something where he could put 100% of himself into it and finally be looked at by someone as something more than just some random bad boy. if he apologized for not being able to fit her expectation, what would she say? would she apologize like, "i am too," or would she give some smart reply, since that's just how she was? would she take pity on him and change her mind? instead, he opted for "that's a little harsh," pretending as though that's all he had to think on the topic. that would bring forth the least amount of thought.
devi continued to speak, the words feeling heavier and heavier on his chest. she needed a guy who could tell right from wrong? that could have meant a million things. he held himself from questioning what even the point of that was, what being nice versus being mean really changed things. he could be nice all he wanted and for what, to suck up to a couple of adults who would then decide how the rest of his life would go? it wasn't fair, not in the slightest, and if life played a game with shitty rules, why should he follow them? but even if he were to change, would it have mattered? would people actually look at him differently if he made the effort to be nicer and try at school?
he hadn't even realized a question had escaped his lips before he felt skin against his cheek, a bittersweet comfort that he found himself subconsciously leaning towards. shit, he hated this. he hated this so much, the way he felt so helpless at her hand on his face. he had lived this scenario before, and there was a recollection of pain. how long had it been since he had been touched with no intentions hidden beneath the surface? he can’t remember the last time he had felt skin on his own without the intense heat of passion, without bodies being pulled together and curses slipping into the air, even with devi, who he cared for, who he wanted to be different.“oh, sweet ethan.” he almost flinched at how familiar those words sounded, the wound only deepening. he knew he should say something, anything, to stop her. yet, he stayed quiet, unable to pull his eyes away from hers. there was only a short breath as devi pulled her hand away from him, sparing him one last look. “goodbye.”
and she was gone.
ethan was left alone in this stupid supply closet, filled with shit he didn’t care about. "ha," came the sigh, his own hand lifting to rub at the back of his neck, his head dipping forward to stare at the ground. dark curls fell over his eyes, and there was a pitiful attempt to keep track of his thoughts. yet, the only thing he could think of was the loss of the warmth that had been with him only moments ago.
tilting his head back to stare up at the ceiling, ethan came to a realization that this was the second time he wasn’t enough for someone to stay.
and he smiled bitterly, a bit of laughter filling the air. how fucked up this situation was, really. he let his eyes fall back down, he brought his hands back down, picking his bag up as he looked around at the closet once more. it felt as though everything was in there, pointing and laughing at him with jeering expressions and creased eyes, taking amusement in this sick charade he was forced to sit through again.
and, with a dirty look fit for a dirtbag, he kicked the shelf as hard as he could, sending everything toppling down.