Behind Closed Doors ✔️

15

College has been fucking hectic, lately. I’ve been given so many assignments that I know won’t get marked because the teachers are shitty, but I still work my arse off. I’ve been told that I’ve got a good work ethic, and I’m pretty sure I inherited it from my parents. They both had unlucky starts in life. Emotionally unavailable parents who drank themselves to misery, and it didn’t get any better as they grew up like me, in a council estate. 

But, everyday, they work till they can’t feel their legs to put food on the table, and I wish I could do whatever the hell I could to help. Being a lawyer has always been my dream, since I was younger. Even though that dream is looking more like a nightmare and is getting more out of reach as the years go by, I can’t help but wonder how different my life would be if I made that dream a reality. If I worked so damn hard that I gave myself a better future. 

I knew the risks. My parents can’t afford to send another child through university. They’re barely making ends meet with Tom’s finances. And they’ll only increase by the time I finish my second year. 

My eighteenth birthday is creeping up on me, and I couldn’t help but feel like a little kid. A kid relying on my parents and my brother and having a shitty minimum wage job and not being able to cope by myself. 

I huffed, slamming down the lid of the loaned laptop as I lay back on the couch, rubbing my hands over my face. I wasn’t going to cry, because I was much stronger than that, but the urge was strong. Really strong. 

Then, before I could wallow in my own self-pity, there’s a thunderous banging on the front door. I sit up quickly. My parents were at work and only God knows where Tom was at this time of night. “Moore!” I hear, and I instantly recognise the voice. Antony. Shit. Why would he be outside my house at the dead of night? “Come on, man, open the door.” He says, and my eyebrows furrowed in confusion. He doesn’t sound… normal. He sounds drunk. Or high. 

I’m instantly at my feet, rushing through the room and at the front door, my hand hovering over the key. My lips quiver as I decide what to do. I could turn around and go to bed and forget this ever happened. It seemed like the better option instead of having to deal with Antony Barbosa. He’s probably here to beat me up or give me shit for kissing him. 

“I can hear you.” He says softly, and I swear I heard a laugh. My breath is heavy as I slowly turn the key and swing the door open. Antony instantly collapses into my arms, his body swaying. “Hi.” He murmurs, and I stand frozen, in shock. Who is this, and what has he done with Antony? “I needed to- I needed to see you.” Antony mumbles against my chest, and I gulp before slamming the door closed with my foot. 

“Antony- what are you… are you drunk?” I asked him, my hands on his shoulders as I forced him to stand straight. His eyes were drooping and his cheeks were red from the windy weather and his hair had fallen onto his forehead. “Why are you here?” I asked, when he didn’t answer my question. 

But, all he does is lean his forehead on my chest, his arms by his side. I hear him mumble something, but it isn’t coherent. My hand is on his back and he stumbles closer to me. I feel his arms wrap around my waist, and I’m totally frozen, glued to my spot. A flurry of emotions run through me and the pit of my stomach goes crazy and I’m not sure how to feel. 

“Antony?” I call, softly. My palm flattens on his back and it only brings him closer to me as he buries his face in the crook of my neck. “Are you alright?” I asked him, and he slowly nodded his head. 

“You smell good.” He mutters, and my eyebrows raise in shock. 

“Thank you?” 

“Hmm.” His arms squeeze me slightly, and I feel his fingers interlock behind my back. “I’m tired.” Antony slurs his words, and I have no idea what to do.