Coffee Shop Soundtrack (Marianas Trench)

Chapter Fourteen

Josh sat cross legged on his bedroom floor, using chopsticks to pick up noodles from the Chinese takeout box in his hands. Ian sat across from him, sprawled out on the sofa, a similar box in his hands. They’d spent the evening eating takeout and playing video games. Josh had listened to Ian talk about Kira, listened to stories about Ian’s job, and still his mind drifted back to thinking about Matt. He just couldn’t think about anything else, it was clouding his brain and he couldn’t help it.

“Josh.”

Josh looked up, to see Ian staring at him. “You’ve been staring at that wall for like, five minutes.”

“Sorry, I was just daydreaming I guess.” Josh explained, shifting slightly and taking a sip from the soda can on the coffee table next to him.

“Thinking about that boy from the coffee shop again?” Ian winked, as Josh glowered back at him.

“No. Shut up.”

“Don’t lie, Josh.”

“I’m not lying.”

“Joshua.”

“Ian.”

The pair glared at each other for a while, until Ian chuckled and looked down at his food again. “You’re a terrible liar, Joshy-boy. And I’m not stupid.” Josh merely scowled back at Ian, who beamed triumphantly.

“Shut up and eat your noodles.”

“You’d prefer to be having dinner with your boooooyfriend.” Ian laughed.

“Mhm, and you’d prefer to have dinner with your girlfriend.” Ian’s face dropped a little. “But you’re stuck with me, so suck it up and eat your fucking noodles.”

“Ooooh.” Ian whistled, raising his eyebrows. “Someone’s on their period.”

Josh's noodle box hit Ian in the head shortly after.

Matt rested his elbow on the table, sighing inwardly. He was sick of sitting at a table with his boyfriend’s parents, sick of their stupid stories about when they went on all these fancy holidays and trips and whatever. To be perfectly honest all Matt really wanted to do at this point was go over to Josh’s, but there was no way in hell that he’d be able to do this. He drew patterns with his forefinger using the condensation on his glass of tap water. They’d been waiting for their meals to arrive for a little while now, and it was crossing the border where Tyler was beginning to become a little agitated. Matt had ended up ordering the smallest salad available, retorting the questions from Tyler’s mother with the excuse he was on a diet.

“Don’t be ridiculous, dear. You’re in good shape.” She said as she peered at Matt over the top of her gold framed glasses. Matt smiled weakly and removed his elbow from its resting place.

“Well, there’s nothing wrong with losing a few pounds, Mrs Shelley.” Tyler smiled and clapped Matt on the back after he’d said that. Despite it being too rough, Matt was relieved as he knew he’d said the right thing.

“So, Matthew, what do you do for a living?” Mr Shelley asked calmly. This was the first time Matt had met Tyler’s parents in two years, as he’d gone home for Christmas and he’d excused himself from other visits. It was about time now. Tyler still hadn’t met Matt’s parents, but neither party particularly bothered for meeting the other.

“Uh, I’m still at university. I’m studying music, chemistry, English language and psychology.” Matt said.

“Not bad, son!” Mr Shelley smiled wider. “I studied music for years when I was at school. Do you play, or sing?”

“I, uh, sing, and I’ve been playing piano since I was nine years old, and I’m learning guitar.”

The chitchat was small and idle, but it subdued remarks from Tyler. To Matt’s surprise, Tyler’s parents were probably some of the nicest people Matt had met. They were polite, and actually gave a fuck about what Matt had to say. He’d relaxed throughout the night, and was in a good mood when they hugged goodbye and Matt got into Tyler’s car. As they drove away, Matt cleared his throat.

“Was that alright?” he asked, albeit a little sheepishly.

“Sure.” Came Tyler’s delicate response. Matt bit his lip a little.

“W...was there anything I did wrong? Th-that I could improve on? Be better at doi-”

“You ate too much, fatass.” Tyler interrupted. “You really need to cut back on that. Ugly enough with all those fucking scars.”

Ouch, that hurt. Matt stayed quiet the rest of the journey, wishing he’d just shut up in the first place. And, when they got home and Tyler sat down to watch television, Matt found himself crouching over the toilet bowl with two fingers down his throat. He deserved it, after all. Then Tyler called Matt over, and the younger boy found himself dreading what’d come next.

Josh sighed, shutting the front door quietly. Ian had left because he’d promised Kira he’d see her tonight. And Josh couldn’t complain, after all. He traipsed across to the kitchen and leant on the counter, where his mother faced opposite.

“You alright, honey?” she asked, looking up from the paper she was reading.

“Yeah, mom, I’m fine.” Josh smiled, and rooted around in the fridge for a bottle of water. When he turned back to face his mother, she was giving him a knowing look. “What?”

“There’s something on your mind,” She smirked, and crossed her arms. “And you’re not telling me it.”

Josh gulped a little. “There’s nothing on my mind.” He began to walk out of the room.

“Mhm, sweetie. Sure.” She called, but didn’t press on it. And frankly, Josh was relieved.

He trudged back down to his room, shut the door and flopped down on his sofa. Appreciative of the fact he had the entire basement to himself, he picked up his guitar sullenly.

Why couldn’t he get Matt off of his mind? Probably because he was worried sick, worried what this Tyler guy would do to him. And yet, he couldn’t do absolutely anything about it. He couldn’t confront Tyler because firstly, he had no clue as to what he looked like, and second, if he’d confront him then he’d only get angrier at Matt. He could ask Matt to stay over but Tyler would get mad. It was like a double edged sword; whatever he tried to do it would be bad for the poor boy. Josh then realised how scary it must be for Matt. Not only was he sneaking around to work on this project, he was also getting criticized at home all the time. That wasn’t okay. But of course, Josh had no clue on how to fix it. He let out a frustrated groan, dropping his guitar to the floor before pulling on his pyjamas and getting into bed early, figuring he’d sleep on it and see if he had any genius ideas in the morning.

A/N: The readers of this fic are literal angels. Thank you for the love!