There Really is Life on Mars - An Adopted by Yungblud Story

Chapter One - Dumb Luck

TW/CW: ABUSE, SELF HARM, BODY IMAGE NEGATIVITY, PANIC ATTACK

Y/N's P.O.V.

"Doctor says that I'm so lonely, a mistake on the paintin' of my family..." drowns out the head-pounding insults my mother was slinging at me as we drove home from going out for, as my father put it, "a nice family dinner."

As I let Medication absolutely destroy my eardrums, I, additionally, allowed myself to zone out and get lost in my own thoughts; somehow, I ended up contemplating my relationship with my parents.

"If they didn't want a child after so many failed attempts, why did they even have me? I never asked to be here and they clearly don't want me here, so why?" I contemplated the situation I had already come to terms with before my father harshly pulled me back into reality through a shove to my shoulder.

"Come on, D/N, get your pitiful ass inside and out of my sight," my father sneered; I inwardly cringed at the name he referred to me as. I rolled my eyes, reluctantly exiting the car before dashing up to my room. My room was small, but it was alright; I have a bed and a place to keep my clothes (of which there weren't many), so I manage with what I've got. The second I reached my room, I quietly closed and lightly barricaded the door; mom and dad took my lock off when I was around eight, saying "I shouldn't possibly need privacy unless I'm hiding something." I sighed, kicking off my worn-down black converse and face planting onto my bed. I had taken my headphones out now and could hear my parents complaining about me, surprise surprise. I tried my best to look for a distraction before dark as unwanted thoughts of self-mutilation decided to make themselves more prominent than usual. Lucky for me, the universe gave me a distraction.

Instagram: [cuddleblud]

yungbludarmy started a live video. watch it before it ends!

I quickly opened instagram and pulled the livestream up, knowing that it was likely Dom's live show in LA being streamed; I held in a squeal as I realized I was correct. He was teaching the crowd a piece of what I could only assume to be a new song, so I listened intently, shoving my headphones back in to hear the stream with more clarity.

"Put it all together! I'm just a fleabag, nobody loves me! Send me to rehab, somebody touch me! Keep it goin', and when I sing it, YOU FOOKING SING IT LOUDER! GOT IT?" Dom projected into his microphone, flipping his skirt a bit as he did so. I nodded my head along to the beat, again trying not to squeal as he poured a glass of some sort of drink over himself. As the song progressed, I got more and more excited, hoping as much as one could that this absolute banger would be a new song he drops soon. I continued watching the stream after the new song finished, right up until a little "Live has ended" popped up on my screen. I sighed, happy to have been able to experience a West Coast concert from all the way in C/N. Still, even with the excitement that came from his supposed new song, I felt a pang of negativity quickly overcome my positive thoughts.

"Those people get to see him in person, maybe even talk to him. God, what I would give to be able to do that. Dom wouldn't want to speak to me anyways; I'm too fucking boring for him. Still, talking with him, even if it's only a few words, would be a dream come true. No, he wouldn't talk to me, there is no way, I'm just some stupid kid who can't even come out to their parents let alone speak to them casually, he would never-" My thoughts got more frantic as tears pricked my eyes, that familiar craving for a shiny piece of metal pressing into my marred skin returning. I knew I couldn't fight it off, I never could. I allowed myself to obtain the relief I needed, quickly and quietly cleaning up the small mess I had made before drifting into a dreamless slumber.

About a month went by before I heard anything more of the song I had heard during the LA show livestream; I was right. It was a new song; Fleabag, coming out on August 19th. I was over the moon excited; then I checked his TikTok page. He had posted about three hours ago; the caption of the video read:

"IMMA FACETIME YOU!!! GO!" with two black heart emojis, a side eye emoji, and a blood emoji. The video itself described how to get at a chance at calling him; duet his video, use the sound in said video, and/or use the hashtag #imjustafleabag in your video. I sighed, knowing I didn't have a chance.

"Fuck it." I mumbled under my breath, putting on the most edgy outfit I could compile; black pants, a red striped t-shirt, lots of homemade bracelets, rings, and necklaces, pink socks, and my converse. My parents were, fortunately, not home at the moment, so now was the perfect time to do this. I quickly whipped up a small duet to his post of me lip syncing to the lyrics, using the fabled hashtag he had mentioned. I posted it, knowing I likely would not be getting a notice. I quickly changed out of my outfit and went back to sitting in my room before remembering:

"Oh shit!" I dashed downstairs and began rapidly cleaning; mom and dad had thrown a party last night and wanted me to clean up the trashed house. I was in the last room that needed cleaning when I heard the door open. In walked my parents, seemingly both intoxicated; makes sense, it was about 11PM and they did say they were going out to some bar with friends. I could tell they were not happy with me whatsoever. My mother was the first to speak:

"You really can't do anything right, huh, skank?" She glowered, staggering towards me and backhanding me with as much force as she could muster, sending me to the floor. My dad quickly joined her.

"If you can't be a good little maid, you'll be a good little punching bag, how does that sound?" My dad questioned, a false, sickly sweet tone to his voice. I felt my breathing start to go awry; they had never physically abused me before, only verbally. I could tell this was not going to be fun.

After a long, grueling twenty minutes of being a rage room compacted into a Y/A-year-old, I limped up to my room. I could already feel bruises and bleeding cuts blossoming all over my body, even on my face. I was too exhausted to cry, let alone clean myself up. I flopped down onto my bed, shakily checking my phone and seeing a notification that drained all exhaustion from my body within seconds, transforming it into immense shock.

TikTok: yungblud liked your video.

Despite my swollen face, a huge, genuine smile stretched across my bruised, bloodied, tear-stained cheeks.

That night, I was able to sleep soundly for the first time in years.

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word count: 1206

so! that's the first chapter! hope you enjoyed! please vote and comment <3