In Reality || Kellic [boyxboy]✔

Chapter Twenty Three

FUCKING AUTHORS NOTE: FUCKING ALL TIME FUCKING LOW FUCKING FOLLOWED ME ON FUCKING TWITTER

SORRY. CONTINUE.

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Vic's P.o.v.

"Jaime, I don't know what do or even think right now.", I sighed, letting myself fall backwards onto his bed. Me and Jaime had become friends, because he was my brother's boyfriend's friend... or something. Anyway, Jaime was a really great guy - turns out he was the one whose name I had said at the football game, when I was trying to cover up the fact that I really wanted to see Kellin play. Kellin... Yeah, the thing with Kellin. It was stressing me out - a lot.

He had seen my scars and I didn't know what to think of it. He had been comforting and everything, didn't seem like he would ever judge me. But then again, those scars were the things I was most ashamed of. I didn't see anything beautiful or poetic in them. They were not like war injuries or anything of that sort, like people always say. They were proof of my mental instability and I was not proud of them.

I hated myself for the scars. Self-inflicted wounds truly were horrible. I had one scar, when I had accidentally gone too deep, that would probably never go away. I just imagined my future
kids seeing them, or my future boss seeing them. Those scars will send clear signals to them. I am mentally unstable and can't take care of myself. I need help. I'm insane. Things like that. I wanted to be a doctor, but if my boss saw them, he most likely would not give me the job. How was I supposed to save lives or fix other people's bodies, when I couldn't even take care of my own?

And the sad thing is - they're not wrong either. I was fully aware of how insane harming my own body was. I was fully aware that it wasn't normal and that I needed help - which was exactly why I was ashamed. I didn't go a around, telling everyone about my shit - because it was my shit an no one else's. I didn't need attention.

"Well, I don't really know either. I mean, he never looked at you differently or acted differently, did he?", Jaime said, snapping me out of my thoughts. I shook my head. "Then I don't think you have anything to be ashamed of. He clearly doesn't care if you hurt yourself or not and likes you either way. And damn, that's great, man. You shouldn't ruin that because you're insecure."

I nodded slowly. "You have a strong point... Thanks, Hime."
"No problem, buddy", he smiled and patted my back in a friendly manner. I checked the watch and gasped. I should have been home an hour ago. "Shit, I gotta go. See ya", I said in panic, waving at Jaime and rushing out of the door.

Kellin's P.o.v.

I didn't go to school the next day. I was running around town, trying to find Vic. He had fallen back asleep at my house without a word and so had I. But in the morning he was just gone, without a note or anything. I tried calling him but it went straight to mailbox. I called his brother, but he didn't know, nor did he really care where Vic was. And since he hadn't been at school either, I just had to try to find him.

I needed to, because I was worried sick - literally. I was - also literally - running around town and after two hours completely exhausted. To be fair, it wasn't all about Vic. I wanted to lose some weight, too. I could barely breathe anymore and everything was spinning. My shirt was drenched in sweat and so was my hair. I let myself fall onto the grass by the sidewalk to catch my breath.

My throat was burning and I didn't have any water. As I sat down, the spinning got worse, though and I remembered that it wasn't supposed to be good to sit down after a workout, so your body would calm down slowly. I pushed myself up again and stood on the grass, panting. I felt my stomach churn and without warning, I emptied the contents of my stomach onto the sidewalk - which was actually just water. Still fucking gross, I thought.

I started slowly walking home, clutching my hurting stomach. The world was still spinning slightly, but it was getting better. Suddenly, someone touched my shoulder, so I spun around. "Vic?"
He smiled sheepishly, "Uh...yeah. I'm sorry for... Leaving like that."

I nodded, "It's fine. I'm just happy that you're o-", I had to stop when I threw up once again. "I need to get home", I breathed. I had always been disgusted by vomiting. It was just a gross thing and I wanted it to stop. "What's wrong?", Vic asked with genuine concern. "Nothing. I just... I just ran for a bit too long and I'm very exhausted."

He nodded slowly. "Why are you even around here right now?", I asked. "I'm on my way home from a friend's house."
"Ah."

I started walking again and so did Vic. "Do you have a phone with you?" I nodded and pulled it out of the back pocket of my jeans and handed it to him. "Thanks. I gotta call my mom or dad."

When someone picked up, he started talking to them in Spanish. It sounded like they were arguing, but then again, Italian, Spanish and languages like that always sounded somewhat like an argument. When he hung up, he smiled at me, confirming that they weren't actually arguing.

"I'm coming home with you.", he stated and grabbed my hand, intertwining our fingers. I couldn't help but smile at that.
I was still trying to figure out what the deal with his scars were.

When we got home, there was someone at home, but neither of my parents cars were in the driveway. I unlocked the door and stepped into the living room.
Sitting on the carpet, playing with Avery was fucking Oliver Sykes.

"You've got to be kidding me.", I groaned.
"Hello to you, too", Oli said in a falsely sweet tone of voice, "I'm the babysitter."

I rolled my eyes.
What was this - a fucking soap opera?

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A/N; okay so i think this is either gonna be a long-ass book or like have like 9 sequels I can't seem to come to an end with this hhhh

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