One-Tenth of Me

‘I’m strong nine-tenths of the day.

I have to be, just to survive.

What I need is someone I can be weak with.’

- Rivers Cuomo

It never fails. It never fucking fails!

Billy roughly scrubs the heel of his palm into the stinging wet of one bloodshot eye to force back the damn tears blurring his vision as he barrels down the dark road towards the Byers house. It’s his third hit on trying to find Max, and if she’s not there, he doesn’t know what he’s going to do. He can’t go home without her… won’t dare go home without her. Not tonight. Not with the mood Neil’s in tonight.

His hand flies from his tear-streaked face to slam aggressively against the wheel of his Camaro, feeling like a fool, and bitter as hell about it. He’s dealt with Neil’s short fuse his whole life; body a mosaic of healed bones and patchwork wounds that left their share of nerve damage. He doesn’t talk about it with anyone, because what’s the point anymore? All they see is a sun-tanned 17-year-old fresh from the coast and up for grabs. No one wants to think of their personal Adonis having numbness in fingers that were snapped once too often, or that he’s partially deaf from being boxed in the ears until both were left bleeding. No – no one wants to think about that when they look at him, and Billy doesn’t want their pity. So, he deflects it the way he’s learned best by covering up all his flaws with beauty and charisma. It works like a charm too, because who really looks at a person to see them beyond the costume they wear?

But now, thanks to Max running off again and putting him on the chopping block again, Billy can’t even use his good looks as a shield. Neil saw to that…

// “She’s not my sister!” Billy exclaimed in frustration as he turned to silence his stereo, having no time at all to brace himself as his father's full weight barreled into him, smashing him back against his bookshelf. It’s not even close to the first time he’s been slammed back and pinned by Neil, but each time still makes him stiffen up and freeze like a cornered animal. Despite his fear though, Billy isn’t a child anymore. He’s grown as tall as his father, and if he found the guts to do it, he could finally give Neil as good as he got. He knows his father is fully aware that the power dynamic he’s had control of the last 17 years is on the verge of a dramatic shift – making him that much more unpredictable.

Billy straightened up enough to be eye level with his abuser, his jaw clenched, and gaze narrowed. He’d had enough of taking the blame. Had enough of being the scapegoat and the punching bag Neil could always count on to work out his frustrations when his shitty parenting came back to bite him in the ass. Billy had always tried to stand up for himself, for his mother, even when he had no chance against the hurricane of his father’s hatred… but this time was different. This time, he stared back steadily at Neil in defiance.

The collision of knuckles against his face snapped Billy’s head to the side, sending white spots dancing across his vision for an instant before Neil’s rough hand around his throat brought his head back up again. He could see Susan cringing in the doorway, too softhearted to witness the abuse, but too timid to stand up against it either. She was a good enough woman, but no more a mother to him than his own had been. The heat blooming like cinders in his cheekbone wasn’t unfamiliar and Billy met his father’s stern face once more, ignoring the ache in his cheek and the sting of wet starting to prick at the edges of his eyes. Neil didn’t get to see his tears anymore; that had been the first thing he’d taken back from his father.