cash in. (au story)

chapter 8; mental breakdown.

kevin and richie only spend 30 minutes of their days to clean up the pharmacy, working for the rest. kevin stayed in his office the whole time, but the main thing richie has his focus on was what was in the office.

why did kevin even have a gun in there? why did he own one in the first place? he wasn't old enough. furthermore, why was it brought to work? did he really hate richie that much?

richie thought about it, holding the piece of cookie tightly between his index finger and thumb before being snapped out of his thoughts by the bell.

"oh, you're actually here," said mike and he quickly rushed up to the counter. "how are you feeling? you okay?"

"yes, mikey, i am 100% right now," richie said proudly with a fake yet convincing smile. mike sighed.

"okay, good," he said. "sorry about yesterday. place looks clean."

"yeah, kevin and i worked on it. you're all good," said richie.

"is he mad?" mike asked. richie smiled.

"nah. i told him it was my bad so that his first impression on you wasn't that you knocked down our shelf," richie chuckled.

"thanks, rich," mike tittered. "well, i suppose i'll let you continue your shift, text or call if you need me."

"i will, cya, mike!" richie chanted. mike walked out the door and richie took a deep breath, putting his face in his hands after shoving the last bit of cookie in his mouth. "i need to talk to him.." he whispered, grabbing out his phone.

richard >>> wentworth

richard: look, i'm sorry for wasting your money on a hospital bill. you can't kick me out yet, though. i'm only 14, i have no money, and i have no where to go.

wentworth: that sucks, kid. you're not living here, both your mother and i have agreed on that.

richard: so what if i told the police

wentworth: 1. they wouldn't believe you, 2. i'd have your mother beat your fucking ass.

richard: arent you supposed to be the nicer parent

wentworth: i am. i don't physically abuse you.

richard: wow. wow. just fucking wow. maybe leaving home isn't such a bad idea after all

wentworth: you're not leaving, you were kicked out.

richard: fuck you.

wentworth: would you like me to come over to that pharmacy and drag your ass out?
wentworth: yeah. i didn't think so.
wentworth: so shut the fuck up.

richie smacked his phone down and put his hands over his face, starting to cry.

"here, take the brea—" kevin began, holding the bag of bread before stopping. "richie?" he asked, setting the bag down.

"go away, kevin," richie said into his hands as tears slid.

"what's up?" he asked, bringing richie into a hug. richie's hands still covered his face, which was crushed against kevin's chest as he hugged the shorter boy.

richie continued crying lightly. of course, he didn't want kevin to see him like this. but he couldn't stop.

"i'm fine, leave me alo-lone," richie choked out.

"yeah well if you were 'fine' then i don't think you'd be crying," said kevin, pulling out of the hug and leaving his hands on richie's shoulders.

richie glared up at him. "just.. go away." he left from behind the counter and quickly made his way to the bathroom. kevin watched and sighed.