The Victorious [BxBxB] ✓

He Would Never

"We should go inside," James said.

Victor wasn't looking at him. He wasn't looking at anything in particular. Instead, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his empty pack of smokes. James took it from him and threw it in the garbage can next to him.

"We should go inside," he said again.

"What?" Victor blinked fast. "Oh, yeah, yeah. Right. We should. Where's Ollie?" Victor ran his hands over his head, fixing his hair.

"I think he's with his dad," James said. Then after a few seconds, he reached towards Victor and touched his arm. "We should do something fun after this is done."

"Yeah," Victor said and faked a smile. He walked away before James had the chance to add anything else, so James followed quietly.

The courtroom was almost empty. James had a different image of courtrooms in his head, highly influenced by all the movies he had seen. The room was almost empty; it felt frigid and cold and uninviting. James' heart was beating fast. The lights were white and strong, and one of them kept flickering.

He sat down, and soon enough, Ollie and his family joined him. He felt Ollie's lips against his cheek. It's going to be ok. It's going to be ok. He took Ollie's hand. It's going to be ok.

The judge sat down. Amelia Garnett was her name. She made an impression on James from the moment he saw her. Something about her, maybe her graying hair, maybe her frown, maybe the way she walked showed that she wouldn't tolerate any bullshit. James found himself liking her. There was no sweetness to her, not in the way she looked at the lawyers and not in the way she spoke. Yet she still had an air of "niceness" to her.

And when she spoke, her voice echoed in the room. It made James feel even smaller, even colder.

James expected the trial to be short. He expected to hear Mason speak, then Victor, then go home and rejoice over the fact that it was over. It wasn't like that. There were strangers called to testify. Men in expensive suits, with impeccable hair and bright smiles. And they all said that Mason was great.

Mason always donated to charity.

Mason never raised his voice; he was calm, collected, kind.

Mason would never do such a thing, such a horrid thing. Of course, Victor was lying. Why? Who knows why young people lie? Attention? Grief? Victor wasn't stable; of course, he would lie.

Mason was a good man. Mason was a great man, a great collogue. Everyone was so shocked, so appalled by the accusations. Accusations made by an underage drinker, a notorious party-goer, an irresponsible teenager with money to throw.

Mason was a man of character. And Victor was not.

James wanted to scream. He wanted to stand and shout at everyone, call them assholes and liars, and how could they even imply that Victor wasn't telling the truth. But he didn't. He was paralyzed in his chair, sweating, unable to take deep breaths. The air was thick. The room was hot. He looked at the back of Mason's head and got even angrier. There was nothing he could do but sit there, unmoving and quiet and witness people dragging Victor's trauma through the mud, belittling his experiences for - for what?! For an abuser?

James couldn't see Victor's face.

The judge called for a break. Victor got up and walked out of the courtroom. James exchanged a look with Ollie, and they both walked after him into the bathroom.

James saw him bent over the sink, holding onto it like he meant to break it.

"Are you ok?" Ollie touched his shoulder.

Victor straightened his back, water still dripping from his face, and pushed his fingers through his hair.

"Of course, I love character assassination first thing in the morning," he said.

"They're lying," James said. "Those colleagues of his, they're all liars. Someone should tell the judge."

"They're not lying," Victor said, touching the back of his head with his wet hands. "That's how they see Mason. They're going to frame this as me sleeping with my mom's husband. They're going to imply that Mason's greatest mistake was cheating on his wife."

"But that's not the truth." Ollie frowned.

"Who cares about the truth?" Victor fixed his tie. "It's not about the truth; it's about who is more convincing. And who would you believe? An old, respectable gentleman that holds charity events or a spoiled brat that takes drugs and drinks himself into a stupor?"

"You're not like that," Ollie said, grabbing his arm. "Don't say that."

Victor shrugged and turned towards Oliver. "No, I'm exactly that. But I don't care if Mason is found guilty or not. I just want this to end."

"How can you say that?" James asked, his voice echoing in the bathroom. "He needs to go to jail."

Victor's gaze was intense. His eyes were burning in his skull like he was running a high fever. They were glossy and angry. "Right," he said. "He should, yes. And yet here I am, not caring." He smiled, showing his teeth.

James had no words. Victor's attitude bothered him.

"How can you not care?" James closed his eyes. "Nevermind. I'm sorry." He shook his head. "We're already here."

Author's note<3:

Do you guys eat anything that's like super good but people think it's not? Let me know, I'm curious!
Now, back to our drama. This isn't going well, is it? Ugh, I have a bad feeling, guys. What do you think?