Chapter 1: red solo cup

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Snow was falling in Los Angeles, leaving bodies shivering and breaths visible like a cloud of smoke. It wasn't a common occurence, and even when it did happen it never seemed to last long. Not that Matt was complaining. He didn't hate the cold, he just hated the way it always made him look. Pale skin, red-nosed.

It was Christmas week and he and his brothers had already decorated the shitty tree they pieced together without a manual. It was just a normal green color, one like their Dad always put up back when they lived in Boston. Back then however, in childhood, that tree had always seemed more colorful than it truly was. Now, one almost identical sat in the corner of their new home, lights wrapped around it with a few ornaments dangling from its plasticy limbs. Perfectly pitiful it was.

Just the night before they had all stood together in the living room, unboxing all the decorations together. Matt wieled around a box cutter in his shaky hands, slicing through whatever they passed him before handing it back silently. Various trash laid scattered across the hardwood flooring, and a soft song played lowly off their new speaker. Roboticly opening another container, the blade seemed to run a bit deep this time. He tore open the box, looking down at the now damaged string lights with a long sigh, his shoulders slumping instantly.

"Goddammit Matt," Nick curses, taking the box from him. Matt sits still, staring at the wall with a far off expression on his face. When his eyes finally focus on Nick he seems dissapointed. "I'll just cut them."

He softly nods, passing his brother the box cutter. Chris quietly sings along with the song that drifts throughout the room. "With the birds I'll share this lonely viewin'... soft spoken with a broken jaw."

It seemed holidays were back to back near the end of every year. Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas. The amount of preparation it took for each of them was truthfully unbearable. Decorations needed to be put up for each of them, but the more annoying part was scheduling events and planning get-togethers with friends and family. Matt usually left this all to Nick, who seemed far more equipped for the task.

Just right now Nick was calling up a friend of his, chattering away about their plans for tonight. Chris was in the next room over, stuffing an old book bag to the brim with clothes and other neccessities. It seemed like his brothers were constantly hanging out with new and old friends, making plans and sleeping over at others houses.

"You coming with me to Nate's?" Chris asked, stepping into the doorway of Matt's room.

He laid on his bed under a huge throw blanket, fiddling with the buttons on a Nintendo Switch. Reluctantly, he looked up at his brother.

"Someone's gotta be here to feed Albus." His hand waved to the fish bowl on his nightstand. It was a sarcastic and piss-poor excuse, he was well aware.

Chris squinted his eyes. "He's a goldfish, he's gonna be dead tomorrow anyways. Get your ass up." He walked over, ripping the blanket off the boy and tugging on his arm.

"Leave me alone, I'm not going."

"Mattttt."

"Chris." He snatched his arm back abruptly, huffing.

Chris stared at him for a moment before looking away, his hands raising in the air defensively. "Whatever dude," he mumbled as he walked out of the room, shutting (slamming) Matt's door.

The evening passed by slowly, mainly made up of endless scrolls on the internet with dry unblinking eyes. It was a new unhealthy habit that he had, wanting to know everyone's thoughts about him. The surface level of media out there was always positive but things changed quickly the longer he scrolled.

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