Rules are made to be broken

Chapter 1

"Stop messing around Ches, you know I was worried about this whole surgery thing." He shrugs off the question, embracing the brunette in a hug. Ches had attempted to crowd surf earlier in the week causing what Glam thought was a mild concussion. Glam took him to an under the table "clinic" as they were low on cash and Ches' mother would lose it if she found out what he was up to late at night."I was so worried, you were out longer than I thought you'd be. You really need to stop sleeping so much." Glam tries joking, eyebrows furrowing when the boy wasn't returning the hug.

Pulling away to face his friend once again, he finds a confused look resting on the smelly boy's. Glam didn't want to mention it, but he himself had been declining in body odor since he had took residence in that rickety camper he called home. His nose had adjusted to the smell of old food, smoke, vomit and booze that resonated in the "house", but he still hadn't gotten used to waking up every day, unable to shower first thing in the morning unlike his usual routine. Well, he can. But, without the protection and reassurance of Ches, Glam just feels vulnerable using the public showers as they were filthy and hazardous in his opinion.

"Dude, you might smell worse than I do, and I live in a camper." Ches jokes with his signature gap smile, scanning the blond boy's serious face. "Hey, I was joking... About you smelling worse than me, I mean." His face dropped as he said that.

"Do... You really not remember me?" The words that have been floating in the blond boy's head finally coming out, hoping the boy was still joking.

"It's kinda hard to remember someone you haven't met before, isn't it?" Ches shrugged, with a raised brow as Glam just stood there his arms still on the brunette's shoulders.

The scene replayed over and over in Glam's head as the two strolled down the dimly lit street, the thought of it cutting him deeper every time. How could Ches not remember him? They had spent months and months hanging out together every night, they saw each other at the conservatory every day. Not one day would go by that they wouldn't see each other. So, how could he go to sleep, and forget all of that? Was this one of Ches' sick jokes?

Yes!, that had to be it. Ches had a tendency to push a joke too far. That must be what he's doing. He'll laugh it off, and reveal that it was just a joke. Despite his hope, a faint voice continued to persist in his mind, making him doubt himself.

"Hey, Blondie. Did you hear me?" The question brings Glam back to reality, looking down at Ches, as Ches was waving his hand in Glam's face.

"Blondie?" Glam was taken aback, Ches almost never called him 'Blondie', usually only Lordi or Bob would use the nickname. Well, other than 'paganini guitarist.' What does that even mean?

"Well, what else am I supposed to call you? All I know is that you claim to be my 'best friend' which, by the way, is still currently up for debate." His words stung. Hard. Reminding Glam that he is essentially starting all over again. How could Ches just pretend to forget everything they did together when it helped shape who Glam is? Ches helped him gain the confidence to leave his abusive household and never look back, so now he is just expected to forget all of that?

If this was a joke this, it's a cruel one. A very cruel one.

"You call m- My name is Glam." He corrects himself, not wanting to feed into his friend's joke as he done many times before. The brunette stops to look Glam up and down, as if making notes of his features. Glam's cheeks heat up, fidgeting at the gaze. He never liked being looked at the way Ches would. He felt exposed, that all his deepest secrets were suddenly shining through the flaws of his skin. Every scar, scrape, and bruise, each revealing the story behind them.