Chapter Text
August 19th, 2019
Anthony Larusso hasn’t spoken in a week.
He wasn’t sick. His throat didn’t ache. His mouth wasn’t dry. His vocal chords weren’t damaged. Just for once in Anthony’s godforsaken life he decided to do what his family always wanted him to do, and that’s shutting up.
Anthony remained holed up in his room for an entire week. Only this time it wasn’t because he lost all sense of time and reality as he played another round of one of his favorite video games. He hasn’t touched his Switch in a week. He had no desire to play any video games anymore.
Anthony became a permanent lump in his bed as his phone remained glued to his hand. He lay curled on his side as he scrolled through the barrage of messages he sent that remained delivered.
Are you okay?
Please text me back.
I’m scared.
Please, please.
They know.
They think you used me. I know you didn’t. I know you love me. I love you.
I love you.
I love you.
Anthony has been blowing up Terry’s phone the second he heard that he was arrested five days ago. Logically Anthony knew Terry wasn’t able to respond to him, but Anthony wasn’t thinking logically.
When he found out Terry was arrested, to say he was upset would be an understatement. Distraught would be the better word. He would never admit to anyone but he sobbed pathetically like a little bitch. He repeatedly called Silver and worked himself into a panic attack. He wasn't sure how long it took to calm himself down but when he did he heard knocking on his door. It was Sam again, trying to encourage him to open his door and eat.
He wanted to scream and curse her out, to curse their parents out. He wanted to wreck his entire room then sneak out of the house, hop on his bike and ride to Silver's house. They took away the one person who actually saw him, who loved him. His parents didn't care that taking Terry away destroyed him, they didn't care that he didn't want that because they never cared about what he wanted. They never cared about him at all.
Texting Terry's made the silence bearable even if there was never a reply. It gave him something to do with the words no one wanted to hear.
Anthony’s stomach growled, breaking the silence in his room. It was easy for him to ignore his grumbling stomach, he had lots of practice doing it. Sam has been leaving him plates of food outside his locked door for the past seven days. He refused to eat any of them.
Sam has tried checking in, knocking softly on his door but never pushing. Their parents haven’t knocked on his door at all which he was more than happy about. Anthony didn’t want to talk to them anyway, they ruined everything.
The fury in his dad’s voice as he confronted him that horrible night seven days ago was imprinted in Anthony’s mind. His dear old dad’s rage slammed into him like a tidal wave, loud, hot and shaming.
‘How could you be so stupid?!’
‘You never listen!’
‘I told you to stay away from him!’
His dad has shoved that grainy, black-and-white photo in his face like it was a smoking gun. The image burned in Anthony’s mind but not because it was shameful, but because it was real. It was proof of what they had. Of what he felt.
Anthony wasn’t scared when his dad yelled at him. Not at first, he was actually furious. Because for once Anthony had something that was his. Something beautiful, powerful and important that was just for him but his dad couldn’t stand it. Because for once not everything was about Daniel fucking Larusso.
Anthony’s hands tightened around his phone at the thought. He huffed out an irritated breath then tossed his phone next to him on the bed. He buried his face in his pillow and wasn’t sure if he wanted to cry into it or scream.
He hated his family. Hated them with every fiber of his being.
Anthony lost count of the amount of times his family rolled his eyes and sighed in annoyance whenever he opened his mouth. He knows he’s a smartass, he usually wears that insult like it’s a badge of honor. Anthony learned at a very young age that the only way to get his parents attention is if he acts out.
Still, it stung sometimes whenever his family acted that just him opening his mouth was a mistake in itself. That whenever he talks too much they quickly get tired of him and whenever he shares his opinion it's the wrong one.
That’s also why he began burying his face in his Switch instead. If his family didn’t want to hear him talk then he’ll just focus his attention on what doesn’t require him to talk.
Funnily enough after years of his family wanting him to shut up, now they want him to talk. Now, they were desperate for every detail about his relationship, his heart, his truth. But not because they cared about him. Because they wanted to twist it. Break it. Rewrite it into something ugly so they could sleep easier at night.
So he gave them exactly what they always wanted him to; silence.
Anthony reached for his phone again and opened the thread. No new messages. Just his pathetic pleading.
Please. I need you
They don’t understand
They never did.
He stared unblinkingly at the last text he sent until his eyes watered. He locked his phone then dropped his phone onto his chest. He stared up at his ceiling as he bit the left inside of his cheek hard enough to taste blood.
The silence continued.