𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐔𝐑𝐓𝐒 𝐌𝐄

─ ❝ act xv ❞

⎡ act xv - worth ⎦

┊❝ I guess we're all worthless... I like that ❞┊

── SITTING in her car and driving down the road with Dylan beside her and Ian behind him, (Y/N) squeezed the steering wheel so tightly she might as well have been strangling it. She couldn't stand the idea of anyone, let alone the very people she despised, seeing the broken home that she was subjected to every day. If anything, she felt as if that would break the loose thread of her will that she had been hanging into desperately as if a lifeline.

"You seem tense," Dylan chuckled, watching her with a smirk toying on his lips. "Why?"

"You know why," she mumbled, not even bothering to look at him at that point since she knew that if she did, she would only want to crash her car and have it burst into a fiery inferno.

"You'll have to enlighten me," he continued. "Because it seems as if I don't."

(Y/N)'s jaw tightened.

He was enjoying this, she could tell.

Flicking her gaze up to rear view mirror to where Ian was sitting, her eyes only narrowed when seeing that he was already looking at her, watching her. The look on his face was cool, calculative—as if he were waiting for any type of reaction from her that he could use to bend her to his will. Redirecting her stare back into the road, she let out a slow, silent breath to ease her nerves, knowing that getting worked up would only lead to a situation that would be unfavorable to her.

Driving as slow as she possibly could so as not to arouse suspicion, she finally arrived at her house, dread pulling in her stomach the moment she and Carmen pulled up into her driveway. Glancing to her right, she felt her blood cool when seeing her father's car already parked, something that only led to her muscles tensing even more than they already would. Shakily unbuckling her seatbelt and exiting the car, she waited until Ian and Dylan did the same before locking the vehicle, feeling as if she were walking to the gallows instead of her front porch from the frigid apprehension that clutched her in its icy claws.

Why did I allow this to happen?

Why did I have to suddenly become all 'noble' thinking I could help that boy?

Why?

Different thoughts swirled in her mind as she unlocked the door, the disturbing feeling of several pairs of nightmarish eyes prickling at her skin only furthering the anxiety that clawed up her throat. Finally, the door swung open and she walked inside, followed by Ian, Dylan, and the others.

"Wow," Carmen hummed unenthusiastically. "Your home is just like you, (Y/N)—plain."

"I think it's charming," Dylan mused.

"It's fine," Ian hummed.

"(Y/N)?" Her father's voice drifted from the kitchen where she assumed he would be on his computer as always, working on documents.

(Y/N) stepped forward to greet her father before she was abruptly pulled back by Dylan, his grip so tight on her arm that she winced from the pain, the thoughts of a bruise forming instantly vanishing from her mind when he pressed his lips to her ear and whispered ominously, "I dare you to tell him anything. See what happens to you after."

Slowly, she nodded in understanding.

He released her.

Walking away and glancing at her arm, just as she thought, a red mark was present.

"Hi, father," she announced her presence as she lingered in the doorway, her arm behind her back to hide the handprint that Dylan had left on her skin, keeping her eyes focused on anything but her father's eyes. "I... um... need to tell you something." She could feel Dylan's eyes on her, the dark and oppressive feeling wrapping around her in a suffocating hold that threatened to never let go until she continued, "I have a few... classmates over, so I was wondering if—"

"I don't care, (Y/N)," her father sighed in annoyance as he rubbed his brow. "I was just making sure you were home. Stay upstairs and don't bother me."

Silence followed.

It was absolutely unbearable.

"Okay... father," she murmured.

Turning towards the group, she could see satisfaction and derogatory looks pass over the group's expressions. Surprisingly, however, the two whom she thought would be the most pleased at her pathetic life were more in disbelief than anything, looking almost confused by the interaction. Staring at Dylan and Ian, unsure of what to think of the emotions swirling within their gazes, she instead began her ascent up the stairs, the group following not too far behind her.

"Hey," Dylan muttered to (Y/N) once the group was now invading her room, rummaging through her personal belongings and snickering at what they found. "Is your father always like that?"

"What's it to you?" She questioned, her eyes devoid of any and all feeling as she watched Carmen and the others pick apart her life and laugh.

"I'm just curious."

"Don't be."

"And why not?"

"Because it's a story that I'm sure will bore you," she mumbled, meeting his stare.

"And if it isn't?" He pushed.

(Y/N) didn't answer him, and Dylan couldn't help but wonder if there even was anything she could've said in response. In hindsight, it was likely that there wasn't anything, so she stayed silent, something she seemed to be doing often. At times he relished such a lifeless reaction, wanting that from her more than anything. Now though, it just left a sour taste in his mouth that he found unpleasant.

"Your father just doesn't love you, is basically what the story is, isn't it?" Ian commented as he laced his hands behind his back. "Isn't it?"

"Yes," she snapped back. "Happy?"

"Delighted, actually," he smiled, viciously.

"Well, look at that," Dylan smirked as he folded his arms over his chest.

"What?" She scowled.

"I guess we're all worthless," he continued as he draped an arm over hers and Ian's shoulders, bringing them in closer as if they were a close trio. "I like that."

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To be continued...