Work Text:
Gally didn't really realize what exactly went though him the moment the news came out.
He remembers it as the darkest day he had ever witnessed.
It was Wednesday morning, five o'clock just as they day began.
The bell rang through the house and Gally was the first to answer the door at the unholy hour.
Two officers. Grim faces and damp from the rain. Standing with sunken shoulders and defeated expressions. They asked if they could step inside.
Gally wasn't one to bend over for others and ask as little questions as possible. He was loud and had his own way. But something- someone told him to nod and step aside.
He led the men towards the living room, going on auto pilot as if his body wasn't his.
His mother just climbing down the stairs in her night gown. Her eyes still clouded with sleep.
"What is this?" She had asked. "What happened? What did you do?" Turned to Gally with wide eyes. Not the first time he had messed with authorities.
The room was cold and you could cut the tense aura with a toddlers scissors.
The smaller officer shook his head. His hands behind his back. Head hanging low and defeated.
The other one was stronger- colder.
"Sit down. We have some questions for you." Looking at Gally. Staring him down all the way until he was seated on the couch. Fear ripping through his heart.
His mother was shaking, sitting down next to him and wrapping her arms around his waist. "Questions? What questions?"
The smaller one sighed- sounding so tired that Gally could imagine him not having slept for the day. "We have some very unfortunate news."
The other one took over again. Taking his hat off and rubbing at his bald head.
"Today we found Isaacson Newton drowned in his bathtub."
Gally didn't feel anything.
That's what he remembered now, he didn't feel anything.
-
The first day he went back to school. The entire world was grey.
The rain kept pouring and everything lost its beauty.
A life without Newt, was a life without color.
The first person he recognized was Alby. Wearing a dark hoodie and dark circles hanging under his eyes. His knuckles bloody and bruised.
Gally didn't even have to nod as they agreed on a day of silent mourning. Both their hands shaking in their pockets.
Everyone was staring.
Nothing was the same.
Together they walked to their lockers. Their steps in rhythm and eyes casted down.
Bumping into a dissolved Minho.
Gally had known Minho for eight, maybe nine years. And never he had looked like he was one step away of dying as well.
They all had matching eyes. Never ending tears and headaches.
Minho was a man of many words, but today, he didn't seem to do as much as breathe.
Finally they made it to the lockers, passing past all of their own and moving towards the last one.
Newt's locker.
It was stripped.
All the posters and pictures thrown away. They knew the combination to their heart. But it was stripped.
Did Newt ever exist?
"Who- so fast?" Teresa said, standing behind them suddenly.
They didn't turn to look at her, her voice broken and croaked like theirs.
Gally couldn't watch it anymore. His hands shaking as one of the teachers past them, not saying anything.
Not even looking.
He might as well go home, before throwing a punch at the wrong person.
-
Gally never came back.
He couldn't- he realized the next day.
He had texted Minho, only to see a email addressed to him, saying Minho couldn't go either and was moving to a school on the other side of state.
Gally couldn't be more relieved.
Because that was exactly what he had hoped would happen.
-
It didn't help. Not as much as he wanted to.
Alby had come with them. But nothing helped.
He went to his appointments, his mother had set up. He took the calming pills. He did everything to forget.
But he couldn't.
His eyes stung. The pain blurring the lines in his book.
Gally wasn't ever going to be okay. He knew so much.
All goals in life had faded together with Newt.
-
He thought of it often enough.
Just ending it.
He would have understood now, if Newt had felt so drained all the time, why he would end it all.
Gally would think of his mother. Of Alby. Of Minho.
Of Newt.
Gally would write every thought down. His eyes closing as he typed away on his laptop. Showing it to his doctor on appointments.
-
The doctor was impressed.
Not by his process, no. But his writing.
"You're very specific, Gally. Your talent is phenomenal. You should write a book."
And so he did.
A book about a young, beautiful, bright, talented boy. With a anger managing boyfriend, aggressive best friend and hyperactive smart ass ex.
And in the end, the boy killed himself.
And Gally started to feel less useless. Now he could look back at it.
-
The story didn't stay unnoticed by the world.
Soon several editing companies were fighting over the rights and asked for him to sign a contract.
Maybe before he would have shrugged at it, wouldn't have cared.
But this was Newt. Pure and only Newt.
He has signed a contract with Johans Book Publicity, where Newt always bought his books.
It felt like the right thing to do.
-
People started to ask Gally questions.
Questions he didn't, and wasn't ready to answer.
"What happened next?"
"What will the other characters become?"
"When will we get a happy ending?"
Happy...
Gally laughed dryly, standing in front of the mirror and watching his once muscular and fit body, sunken in and skinny.
He hated himself. Every day again for not noticing.
It had been so obvious, Newt had dropped signs. Big signs.
He just didn't see, didn't want to see.
Gally hated every second of guilt he felt. He wanted to help. To become something.
Minho, had an idea.
-
Today had been-
Amazing.
Gally had been feeling guilty, for years every time he felt only a spark of happiness.
But today he had- helped.
Together, Minho, Alby and he went to a school, talking with kids who lost a friend, classmate, family member by suicide. And talked about dealing with it.
How to prevent. How to talk with others.
Gally felt like a bit of a hypocrite.
But had helped. People who knew the pain. His pain.
Gally felt more and more freed.
-
"Happy birthday."
Gally groaned, burying his head in his hands. "You weren't supposed to know my damn birthday."
Alby and Minho laughed, stepping into the car with broad smiles.
"Don't be pussy, Gally. We are going to celebrate!" Minho says happily, sitting behind the wheel.
"We have a school to go to." He grumbles, the paperwork already in his bag. "We have a appointment." Guilt creeping up at him.
Must not let down. Must work. Must help. Must-
"We moved it to tomorrow, calm your ass." Alby says, clasping his shoulder.
Gally slowly relaxed.
-
He expected a lot of things, but not a tattoo artist shop.
"I took you've got a groups appointment."
Minho and Alby shake hands with the three tattooers. Smiling and grinning.
"Exactly, Gally here turned twenty today, and we are ready for a tattoo."
Gally was too dumbfounded and curious to protest.
"Okay, great. We looked over the design and it's totally manageable."
Gally gulps. "Wait what design?"
-
Gally had never felt pain again after reflecting about Newt's death.
A lot of emotions had played with him. Hurt him.
And even a tattoo under his collarbone, hadn't hurt him.
"Great, We're all bloody inspired - Newt."
He was proud.
Gally was in love. In love with a dead boy. Gone for so long, but he was proud.
Alby and Minho smile at their similar tattoos, angry and red at the edges, but just as beautiful.
Maybe he couldn't every be happy again, but he sure as hell could be proud of his friends.