happier than ever

measuring worth

𝖙𝖗𝖎𝖌𝖌𝖊𝖗 𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘 𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖉 𝖎𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖔𝖕𝖊𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖆𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗𝖘 𝖓𝖔𝖙𝖊

♡

bad's knee scrapes along the gravel floor outside the school as he is pushed down, skidding just slightly before coming to a sudden stop as he uses his hands to catch himself. he winces, feeling how the skin on his palms begins to burn from the sudden rough friction.

he looks back and comes face-to-face with two of the boys on the football team, both of them laughing down at him. he's just glad that all of his stuff is in his bag, so he won't have the extra stress of them kicking it away when he tries to pick it back up.

bad's gaze drifts to the school doors opening and his heart stops when he sees skeppy walking out.

he quickly bows his head, trying to hide the fact that he is there even though the ravenette must know full well that bad is the person they have all been bullying for so long. honestly, bad had just hoped he would have more chances to talk to the other boy before he was back in this position and practically reminding skeppy of how weak he is.

"just leave him, he's not worth it."

bad looks up at the words and feels something crack within him. it feels like a ripping feeling that tears right down his centre before steering off course just to cut through his aching heart.

even though it makes the other two boys laugh before agreeing and leaving bad on the floor, skeppy trailing with them, bad thinks it hurts more than being pushed down.

bad thinks, if he isn't even worth pain, then what is he worth? anything?

his knees are burning as he hauls himself up off the floor on shaky legs, trying to stay composed in the middle of public as he straightens out his backpack and starts his walk.

bad feels ridiculous for thinking the long conversation they'd had at the party might have meant something. not in the sense of romance, because bad has already internalised the fact that he's unlovable, but in the sense that maybe the bullying would stop.

maybe the brunette just set himself up for failure when he stayed awake at night fantasizing about scenarios where skeppy would come running to his rescue and save him from the others.

bad is hardly even thirty seconds away from the school before he's stopped by a hand on his shoulder. instinctually, because he has no friends, he prepares to be thrown down on the floor again. he mentally tells himself not to land on his knees again, because his mom will be suspicious if he rips another pair of jeans.

he looks back at the culprit of the touch and his throat goes dry when his eyes find those of number 14.

darn his stupid brain for holding onto that name.

"i'm so sorry," skeppy blurts out before bad can even think to speak, pain riddling his dark eyes. "i just wanted them to stop."

part of bad wants to swoon and bat his eyelashes and fall hopelessly and irrevocably harder for the boy he hardly knows at all, but another part of him can't help but wonder, "why couldn't you just tell them to stop then?"