Chapter Text
Travis hated the body he was born into.
Every night he went to sleep, he prayed he wouldn't wake up.
He hoped this would be the one prayer God would finally answer.
Maybe it would be his father that would find him.
The priest would look at his wrists and realise he could've saved him.
Maybe he would reject the blame.
Maybe he wouldn't care.
Maybe no one else would care.
Maybe everyone would be better off without him around anyway.
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Taking out his headphones, backpack lazily hanging off one shoulder, Travis walked into school just as the bell went off for the first period. algebra.
It took so much for him to get up this morning, and, not wanting to leave the warm embrace of his duvet and sheets, he had snoozed his deafening alarm clock 4 times. He’d hoped by the third time, it would malfunction, shut down, and let him sleep for the rest of the day, and every day after that. But that did not happen. And as he lifted an arm to turn it off and get up, he noticed there was blood soaking his sleeves.
Fuck.
While it was not a common occurrence for Travis, it was a guilty sort of pleasure he would indulge in when he needed to. Every time he drew beads of crimson from his freckled skin, he imagined it was all the sin leaving his body, dripping onto the greying white tiles of the bathroom floor. He would say he was doing a service to himself and others, and this is just what had to happen.
Last night in particular was a nightmare. With only the light from the moon illuminating him, he sat, back pressed against the cold, hard bathtub, holding a blade to his skin over and over again, until he was sure he would pass out if he kept going. He and his father got into a particularly heated argument that day. Except ‘argument’ in the Phelps household meant Kenneth screamed at Travis, his fist meeting his jaw, while Travis sat there and took it, soaked in, and choking on, his own tears.
Stop your whining, you pathetic, ungrateful child!
When Travis looked into the dirty bathroom mirror while trying to scrub out the blood, he could see the familiar blotch of deep purple starting to form. Many times he came to school with bruises exactly like these, though Travis' father usually had the decency to hurt him in places no one would see. He lifted up his shirt to see that the once blueberry patch of skin around his ribcage had now become light-yellowish, and would be gone soon. He traced the edges of this violent watercolour piece and winced remembering the terrible pain he felt in the moment. In a twisted way it almost made him laugh, how weak he was. And of course his eye, yet to cease its aching, was still swollen. That pain was worse, he assumed; his brain had blocked it out of his memory.
⊹₊˚‧︵‿₊୨ ♱ ୧₊‿︵‧˚₊⊹
Settling down into the uncomfortable wooden chair placed behind his desk, which was covered in crude drawings and comments, he got out a half-working pen he found at the bottom of his bag, and his notebook containing a few old sloppily written notes. When the class had quietened down, apart from a few giggles here and there, his teacher began, what he presumed would be another excruciatingly boring lesson about quadratic equations, or some shit. It had only been two minutes, and he could’ve dozed off right then and there.
Travis was not a star pupil at all. Apart from music and English, he was either failing or on the verge of failing, in all of his classes. Maths and science were the worst. He didn't participate during lessons, typically because his mind drifted elsewhere without his meaning to. Homework assigned to him was pretty much never done, and he had a terrible habit of being late to class, usually on purpose.
Another problem in his class, algebra specifically, was the boy sitting just a few rows behind him.
Sally Face.
a boy whom Travis had been tormenting, with unkind words and occasional physical attacks, for two years. A boy who made Travis feel so sickly warm inside whenever he saw him. a boy who had so mercilessly set Travis' heart on fire from the moment he joined high school. A boy who destroyed all of Travis' attempts at suppressing his own disgusting feelings.
For a while, he was kind of glad he did though. He was so sick of hiding who he was. He had intended to write him a note. put it all out there. be brave.
but like a warning from the universe he, with shaking hands and a huge lump in his throat, could not complete it, and simply discarded it in the trash can of the boys bathroom like it meant nothing at all.
And of course Sally Face had to find, not only the note, but Travis weeping in the bathroom. And of course he had to be so kind about it. Much of his dignity was lost that day, if he even had any in the first place, and so since that day travis had ignored him. Stopped the bullying. He had no leg to stand on now.
Travis wasn’t sure if Sally Face knew the note was for him, but either way, it didn't matter. It was two weeks ago anyway. Who cares? Travis just wanted to forget about it all. Forget about him.
But god, it was hard to ignore his brilliant blue hair, and brilliant blue eyes. He’d never seen what he looked like under that mask, but he was sure it was as beautiful as the rest of him. It was so hard not to stare at him from across the cafeteria and create sick fantasies in his head. Hand holding. Kissing his lips, under the mask. Laying next to him. Seeing his body. Feeling his body, his warmth. Travis was so hopelessly in deep.
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Larry Johnson leaned up against the doorframe of the classroom, one hand in his pocket, sporting a band tee, looking nonchalant as ever.
The bell had just gone off, so he assumed he was let out early. Or maybe he skipped. He looked like the type to skip class to smoke weed under the bleachers or some edgy shit like that. Truthfully, Travis had skipped class before, so he had no place to judge, but it was usually just to cry. Or fix his bandages. Mostly both.
Because of he and Sally Face’s fraught history, Larry, understandably, did not like him. Whenever Travis would make some cruel comment, Larry was more than happy to step in and shoot a fierce insult right back at him. He sort of admired his protectiveness over the boy, and envied their bond.
Travis was so sucked into his thoughts that he did not notice the short figure standing next to him.
“Hey dude.”
He was taken back by Sally's casualness. He assumed after the bathroom incident there was a mutual understanding that they would just ignore it and move on, never to speak to each other again. But apparently Sally Face did not see it that way. Did Sally Face think about Travis? Was he, maybe, worried? The thought made his stomach swell with excitement and guilt. He smelled like vanilla.
“Oh, uhh, hey.”
“How are ya doing?”
So casual. Don't be an asshole Travis.
“Uh, f-fine. I'm good. Um.. how about, myse- yourself?” idiot.
“Yeah man, I'm doing good! Kinda already wiped out after today's lesson though.” he said with a sweet chuckle.
“Oh, yeah, for sure… I wasn't really paying attention though.”
“No? not a big fan of maths? That's fair. You can borrow my notes sometime if you want though!”
“Yeah that's one way to put it… And thank you. But it will take a lot more than a few notes to stop me from failing.” Travis said with a small, stiff grin.
Sally Face giggled as Travis looked over to the door, where Larry was shooting daggers Travis' way. It was, admittedly, a little bit terrifying.
“Oh I think he’s uh, waiting for you.” Travis said with a hesitant, pointed finger, carefully avoiding either boy's eyes.
“Oh, ya. I should get going. It was nice to talk to you though. See you later Travis!”
And with that he made his leave, strolling to where Larry was and disappearing into the sea of people now flooding the halls.
How strange.
It may have been a bit awkward, and as tense as Travis' body was, he appreciated the chat. He never actually really socialised like that before, at least in school.
Small talk.
As nice as it was though, it made his heart hurt a little knowing, Sally Face probably saw him as something just behind a friend. An acquaintance. When Travis wanted something so much more deeper than that. But that could never happen. For a multitude of reasons. Travis didn’t even think he himself could ever let it happen, he was far too much of a coward.
Fearful in the eyes of God. fearful in the eyes of his father. Fearful in the eyes of his reflection.
Were feelings like these just as complex for everyone else?
⊹₊˚‧︵‿₊୨ ♱ ୧₊‿︵‧˚₊⊹
The rest of the day went pretty smoothly to Travis' surprise. The small chat actually made him perk up, he even managed to pay attention in biology! Well, for maybe a total of ten minutes. But that's better than nothing.
Maybe the universe was taking pity on him after his restless night, and red forearms.
Before school he grabbed an apple from his fruitbowl, which he happily nibbled on at lunch time all by himself, tucked away in the corner of the cafeteria. He was starving now though.
His father had given him money to go buy groceries at some point, and he kept the change he had left over. Travis never really indulged in sweet foods, or a lot of food at all, but he was feeling good today so he went to the shabby gas station a little from his house.
With a Beatles song blasting in his headphones, 5 bucks to his name, he walked through the doors, a crow sat on a gas pump, flying away, as he walked by.
Baby you can drive my car. Yes, I'm gonna be a star. ˖♬
He walked straight to the cold drinks fridge, and grabbed a can of dr. pepper, one of the only soft drinks Travis' could stomach. He found most sugary drinks repulsive.
He also picked up a packet of gummy bears for his little sister Mary. Although she was miles away from him, off at some all girls, catholic boarding school, he thought about her a lot and wanted to get her something for when she came home for Easter break.
He also took notice of a hershey's chocolate bar his older sister, Madeline used to eat. She was gone, for good. She made her leave when she was 18 never looking back. Occasionally they texted or called, but Travis knew that her calling him reminded her of her old life. He wasn't alone under his fathers wrath, and he was glad she was out.
He wondered if that could be him in the future. It was definitely feasible. His only question really was, was he brave enough?
Shaking himself out of his thoughts that were a little bit too deep for his liking, he made his way to the counter picking up a packet of chewing gum while he was there. There was a low hum of a crappy fan pointed towards the cashier, and some random game show playing on a tiny, grainy tv hung on the wall, its wires unkempt.
The old man behind the counter seemed uninterested in making conversation though, which Travis was thankful for, and after handing the money, stuffing the treats into his back, and cracking open the cold can of doctor pepper he went back to his house.
Up in his bedroom he played a sweet melody, his fingers moving up and down the strings like a rehearsed dance.
˖♬ i don't wanna sound complaining,
But you know there's always rain in my heart.
I do all the pleasing with you,
It's so hard to reason with you,
Whoa, yeah, why do you make me blue?
Last night i said these words to my girl,
I know you never even try, girl.
Despite his sleeves sticking to his arms, and despite the inevitable monster coming home later, with the sun shining on his face, Travis was actually rather happy at this moment. He wished he could stay like that forever, his guitar on his lap, singing his favourite songs. Thinking about certain people.
But sweet fruit sours quickly. And Travis had always known that.