That's My Best Friend [Billy Hargrove]

Two Broken Hearts (five)

Steve was nowhere to be found and when you looked in the parking lot, his bike hadn't been there anymore. 

You, therefore, decided to bike home, figuring he was there. Or hoped he was, at least.

You were in a neighborhood you weren't familiar with when you stopped for a moment to catch your breath. Your jacket felt disgusting on top of your sweaty shirt, and you quickly took it off. 

The weather had shifted towards the end of the school day, and it was a lot hotter now. It still couldn't be called summer weather, but it was warm enough to make you sweat while you biked home.

"Ah", you sighed in relief when the cool wind blew on you, and removed some of the heat.

You looked around and observed. This part of town looked like you would have to be at least a little well off to live in it. The houses were big, some even bigger than your own house, and trees had been planted symmetrically on each property to create a neat look. 

You admired the neighborhood when suddenly, a little down the road, behind you, a door shut violently. 

You turned around to look, and saw a girl skate away from the home, looking like she was on the brink of tears.

You quickly realized you had seen her before. She was the girl that had been riding in Billy's car when he first made an entrance at school. Back then she had also skated away, but she hadn't looked sad. 

The little girl was red-haired and wore baggy, dark-colored clothes. She looked nothing like Billy, to be frank. 

From the home, loud screaming and shouting were easy to hear, even from your distance. Someone was furious, and it was probably the reason the red-haired girl had run off.

It was far from pleasant to overhear and you felt a big sting in your chest. Part of you felt sorry for whoever was getting yelled at, and part of you wanted to interfere. It felt like you had to.

But you knew that you shouldn't.

You felt a wave of discomfort wash over you, and you quickly began biking home again. Whatever it was, it wasn't your place to stick up your nose, even as much as you wanted to.

"I'm sending my prayers out to you", you whispered, looking back at the home that was getting smaller with each pedal step you took. Somehow, you had a difficult time shaking the feeling that you had to interfere.

Upon arriving home, you didn't bother locking your bike but quickly ran inside your house instead. It was rare that Steve worried you, but Billy's remarks in the shower room and Steve's bloodshot eyes had done it.

"Steeeve", you called as soon as you entered the house and quickly closed the door. But you didn't get an answer.

You frowned in confusion. 

Maybe he wasn't home?

You ran upstairs and knocked on Steve's door, but still, no one answered. You usually didn't want to pry or waltz unannounced into his room, but today it wasn't a choice.

You opened the door carefully and slowly stuck your head inside, revealing a dark room. And there he was. Steve was lying on his bed, with a pillow covering his face.

"Oh, Steve", you gasped worriedly and went over to sit on his bed so you could comfort him properly. It made slight creaking noises as you sat down, and Steve fiercely threw the pillow off his face.