Are we ever going to get out of here?

Chapter 1

Tristan Kaca stared at the smashed photo frame on the floor.

The one with him and his ex-boyfriend, Lee Smith.

Him and Lee had been together for nearly two years when Lee decided to end it all, because Tristan was 'not gay enough for him,' which was bullshit. Tristan was a football player, athletes can be gay.

Lee obviously liked someone else, everyone in the school had been talking about it, how the new guy and Lee had a thing, and everyone expected them to get together.

Tristan wiped his long, black hair out of his face and picked up the now crumpled photo from the pile of broken glass, and stared at it. It was so happy, yet so painful to be looking at. How could two years be thrown away, just like that?

What caught his eye was the gap between Lee's smile, back when he had knocked it out with a baseball bat trying to use it to try and break a block of wood. Tristan remembered how he had gone with Lee to the surgery to get it put back in, and how he had helped him eat after the surgery. 

God, how could he do this to me.

He blinked back tears reached into his pocket for his lighter, a little shit that barely worked, like ever. He held the lighter up to the corner of the photo and started trying to burn it. It sparked the first through times, but eventually, the little piece of paper and printer ink ignited. Tristan continued to stare at it, unable to think, unable to move, he watched as the ink started turning black from the heat and the paper started crumpling.

He through it into his trash can and screamed. It felt like nobody could hear him.

What would happen if the world ended, tomorrow?

***

"Hey man, you coming to the party tonight?" a voice said.

It was Tristan's friend, Victor Pascal.

"Party? I didn't hear about a party." Tristan replied.

"Yeah, it's that senior, Benji Campbell's party, he's having an all-nighter."

"On a Thursday?" 

"Yeah, mate. Thursday is the new Friday now." 

"Sex ed. Har har."

Victor nodded his head nonchalantly.

Tristan continued, "That's a bit chaotic, not gonna lie. What's next, Monday is the new Wednesday?"

"Yeah, dude, it is."

"Oh."

"Do... you want to go with me, Tristan? None of my other friends are going." Tristan noticed that Victor quietened his voice and he was now hiding behind his curly blonde hair.

"Yeah, yeah alright. Let me just text Evelyn, she's going to be home alone."

Tristan opened his locker, and searched through it to find his phone. It wasn't there.

"Fuck, I must have left it at home. I'll tell her later, it's fine. All she really needs is dinner, so I'll just order her some ubereats." He shut his locker with a bit of a slam.

"Come, on, we gotta go to maths now. Redmond is going to kill us if we're late again."

The two briskly walked down the hall, to maths class 08, like almost every day this year.

Tristan was reached up to his forehead, to move his hair, which he swore was always in his face, no matter what hairstyle he had. He felt something wet on his head.