Moonstruck ⟡ HS

06!

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link: spoti.fi/3h2x7Td
ROLL CALL | THE NEIGHBOURHOOD
PUMPED UP KICKS | FOSTER THE PEOPLE
YOU SAY I'M IN LOVE | BANES WORLD
SO ALIVE | LOVE AND ROCKETS

London, England
April, 1983

He remembers the first time it happened.

His bottom lip was bitten between his teeth as his jaw vigorously trembled, shaking from the wretched torment of heartbreak as he watched through the cracked door. He was scared, anxious and sick to his stomach as he witnessed his parents use their fists and palms and nails and feet to express their love for one another. He remembers it like it was yesterday, when he had to go to sleep that night with the nightmare going on around him within his reality. Screams and shouts were heard from down the hallway that night, he drowned them out with his pillow shoved over his head with soft cries flowing from his lips, tears drenched his pillowcase, and the next day he went to school like nothing happened, with swollen eyes and a heavy heart.

His father worked out of town during the week, up in Sheffield as a stock trader or some shit—who knows—but during the weeks, he was left with his mother and his mother was left with him. They got on fine, he didn't ever understand her and she never understood him, but their time spent together was always peaceful until the weekend came around and his father traveled back to London. He looked forward to the weeks a lot, the weekends were dreaded, and as he got older, he understood his parents less and less.

He didn't understand anyone, really.

People fascinated him in the worst ways, confusing him beyond belief, and unlike any school subject he mastered or whatever hobby he gave his best shot, nothing peaked his interest more than human emotion did. He learned his arithmetic, how to use verbs and pronouns, why the solar system is held together, but for the life of him, from the day his mind sparked up to the current state of his being, he never could understand feelings. Sure, he felt things. Like when he accidentally touched the hot stove, or when he scraped his knee running outside, or when he itched a raw bug bite. He knows those kinds of feelings, but the ones inside of him, the ones that people explain with words and emotional expressions, he could never figure it out.

Like when Cindy Sudomir kept glancing his way in Biology class.

    "Hey," It was Tom, one of his classmates who he got paired up with to sit beside. Despite his off putting nature, Tom always made it a point to talk to him, regardless of the topic, but his sudden urge to spruce up a conversation mid lecture was no shock. In fact, it was expected and sent him glancing over his shoulder at the blonde haired boy. "I think Cindy has a thing for you."

He looks the other way, narrowing his eyes through the thick lenses perched on the bridge of his nose, and when his eyes lock with Cindy's unapologetically, he watches as she shies away from his gaze and turns her attention towards the front of the room. He's known of Cindy Sudomir since he was in his first year of school, when she had a snaggle tooth and his hair was barely blonde, so confusion dawns on him when trying to make the connection of Cindy liking him. He also didn't understand what this "liking" him meant on his end, as if he were meant to do something about it, albeit these weren't his feelings. They were Cindy's.

    "Why?" His question sends Tom chuckling under his breath with a slow head shake, finding amusement in his confusion while he was simply just looking for answers that he couldn't find.

    "Dunno, she just does." Tom tells him, "When girls stare, that normally means they like you." He hums in response, finding no interest in Cindy and her feelings, and focuses back on the lecture being given from the front of the class. "Cindy's a cute girl, why don't you ask her out or something?"