I'll Bury You for This (JTK X M! Reader)

Pretty Handsome Awkward

August 27. 5:31pm.

"What are you doing, Y/N? I was calling you," My heart sinks in my chest at the sound of his grating voice. Really? He had to do this now? Gage turns back and walks up, then pushes past me to face John. I let it happen, and just stared off into the sky. I feel myself grow numb. Why did Gage do all this? I turn to look at them, and I feel the distance between me and him grow, ever so slightly.

"Hi, I'm Gage." He offers a hand out to him. Such a gentleman for someone so fucking disgusting. John eyes him, looking him up and down before taking his hand. He hasn't washed his own in over a year. "Y/N's dad. Who is this? You never mentioned a new friend, Y/N." He looks over at me and I feel so small again. Just like I did the first few years after he started his torturous abuse. "Sorry, it just slipped my mind, I guess." A lie. I did end up telling him about Gage, but just as I thought, he forgot all about him 10 minutes later. John glares at me, and I know that if he even remembers this when we go inside, he'll scream at me.

Gage glares at me too, and I feel myself shrink even more. "Well, do you wanna come inside?" As soon as John finishes asking, I feel myself jump slightly. "No, that's not a great ide-" "Sure. I don't see a reason why I shouldn't," Gage totally disregards what I was beginning to say. He doesn't spare me another glance before he lets John lead him inside.

I feel that weird choking feeling that happens before you cry, so I walk a distance behind them. Hopefully they won't feel the need to talk to me. I feel suddenly so self conscious of the condition the house is in. It's not entirely my fault, but I feel guilty nonetheless. I pay close attention to Gage as his eyes fall over every piece of trash or broken, unclean furniture, and the permanently stained walls from the cigarettes John smokes. I have to look at my shoes, which are not much better looking than the house. "Oh," I hear him whisper, and I feel the tears pricking at my eyes. I blink them away before they can fall down my cheeks. "Ah, sorry about this. Y/N doesn't like to clean, even though I try my hardest to get him to!" He laughs, and I bite down on my lip as hard as I can. He always makes it seem as if I'm at fault for everything.

I can feel Gage's stare, but I refuse to meet his gaze. I don't want to see the disgust in his jade eyes, then feel worse than I already do. "It's fine. Can I see your room, Y/N?" I look up, finally meeting his eyes. I gulp, hoping not to sound as if I'm about to break down. "Yeah, I guess." I don't wait for him, walking down the hallway at my own pace. Luckily, I can only hear one pair of footsteps. I guess John will leave me with Gage, which I might not have minded if he came here when I wanted him to; but I can feel my stomach flip and turn all kinds of ways. It reminds me of the feeling you get when you're climbing up and up on a rollercoaster, about to drop. I feel as if I could drop any second, too.

I open the door to reveal my room, not nearly as messy as the rest of the house, but still dirty enough for me to add that to the list of things to feel insecure about. I let out a shaky sigh, and hope Gage doesn't catch onto how I'm feeling. I wonder if he'd even care. I hear the door shut, and then lock. God, why is he locking it?

I sat down on the bed, my eyes focused on the multicolored blanket I got from the thrift store. If it were someone else, someone more like me- poor, I can admit that- maybe I'd feel comfortable with another person in my room, but Gage is rich, he doesn't know anything about what I have to live like. He sits down in front of me, so I'm forced to look up at him. Instead of scrutiny in his stare, I only find those kind eyes of his. And yet, I can't seem to trust them the same way I would have before.

"I didn't know you.." He huffs and presses his lips together, as if he were trying to figure out the right words to say. "Were poor? Yeah, well I'm glad it wasn't obvious," I snapped. I couldn't help but feel so upset with him. He's pushed so many of my boundaries in this past hour, and it's difficult for me to just let that go. His expression changes, twisting into one of pity. At least, I think that's what it is. Either way, I don't like it. "Don't look at me like that, Gage. Seriously, what the hell did you think it'd be like? Did you think I was doing something to my dad?" I roll my eyes, exasperated.

Gage frowns. "I don't know, Y/N. I just thought it was weird. I mean, you wouldn't let me come inside, and you told me that you ignore all of your dad's messages and calls. What else was I supposed to think?" I grit my teeth. "Nothing! You were supposed to think nothing of it, Gage! Why else would I ignore my dad, huh? Do you think I hate him without a reason to? God, do you really think that little of me?" I stand up and start pacing around the room. I need to calm down. I hear the sound of the springs in the bed sigh as he gets up and walks over to me. I turn away from him, but he wraps his hand around my wrist. I glare at him. "Y/N, no. Look, I don't know what I thought, okay?" His voice takes on a pleading tone, and his expression is one I can't read. I pull my arm away, holding eye contact with him.

There's a knock on the door, and it makes me suddenly conscious of how loud I was. "Y/N? Is there someone in there with you?" I feel the heat rise in my face. Oh no, no no. "Is it Xander? I didn't know you were having a sleepover. You didn't tell me anything about that." I don't glance at Gage; I don't want to see his expression. See how much he doesn't like this, because I'm sure he doesn't. God, why did Gage have to come inside?

The only person who knows about John's dementia besides me is Xander, because he's been my friend long enough to watch his memory deteriorate alongside me. I don't tell people about it, because they don't need to know. I don't want people to fucking know. And now, Gage is going to have to know because he's going to ask questions, whether he knows the answer to them already or not.

"No, Gage is here." I try to sound firm, but my voice wavers, making me sound dejected. I'm not sad that he doesn't remember anymore, I'm just miserable because I have to deal with it. I can feel Gage stare, but I don't look back at him. There's a few seconds of silence behind the door, before John's voice picks up again. "Who's Gage?" I glance at him as soon as those words leave John's mouth. He's covering his mouth the way he usually does when I make him flustered, and I can read his feelings easily with the way his eyes water. I look at him, confused. Why would he cry? He's not the one who has to deal with John. "Friend I made from school."

A few seconds later, he responds with "Oh, okay then." His footsteps trail away from the door until I can't hear them. There's a deafening silence in the room, but we keep looking at each other expectantly. I sigh, then let my gaze drop to the ground. "I'm sorry for yelling at you.." I whisper. I let the tears slip down my face, because there's no point in stopping it at this point. Gage's arms are around me in a second, and I'm stiff at first. I never let myself break down in front of people, because I do just fine by myself- if just fine means sobbing until my face goes numb and resorting to unhealthy coping mechanisms.

"No, no. It's okay, it's okay." He mutters into my hair, and I rest my head on his. His hands move up and down my back, as a means to comfort me. I hesitate in his arms. I'm not used to being comforted, I only ever do that for other people, not the other way around. I chew on my lip, and pull out of his warm embrace. I look at the wall, littered with random posters and cutouts of pictures of band members. I sniffle. Pathetic. "I think you should leave," I murmur, my voice all wispy sounding. His hand gently pets my head for a second, then retreats. "Okay," he whispers back. I peer back at the door after I hear it shut. I lock it back before John can come ask me more questions I don't want to answer.