they're gonna clean up your looks
with all the lies in the books
to make a citizen out of you
The door to Dan's room slammed for the fifth time this week, rattling the shitty pictures on the walls of his parent's house.
"You're grounded!" his Dad shouted from the living room, dropping to the couch with an aggravated sigh. In his room, Dan kicked the wall next to his bed, leaving a dent in the ugly as fuck brown wall. Good, he thought, and kicked again and again and again until his foot stung and his was screwed up in pain. Dan's phone buzzed from across the room; Phil had texted him.
From: Phil
how'd it go?
To: Phil
how do you think im fucking grounded
From: Phil
so instead of me picking you up at 8 I have to wait until like 10?
To: Phil
try 11
From: Phil
whatever you say bby xx
because they sleep with a gun
and keep an eye on you, son
so they can watch all the things you do
Dan waited until the lights went off everywhere in the house before slipping as silently as possible out of his room. He could hear the TV playing from his parent's room, a sure sign that his Mom at least was asleep. But he knew his Dad was sitting in the kitchen, just fucking waiting.
From: Phil
you coming or not
To: Phil
that's what she said
From: Phil
get your cute ass down here just use the window
Dan had popped the screen out forever ago, so it was easy, so easy, to slide up the window and shimmy out, dangling from the second story for a moment before dropping down with a thump. Too loud of a thump. Dan glanced to the side to se his Dad's shadow in the window, standing and crossing to the door.
"Dan!" Phil revved the motorcycle from the side of the street. "Hurry the fuck up!"
"Daniel!" He had never run so fast, nearly tripping over his own to feet to get on the back of his boyfriends motor cycle, waving to his Dad as they speed off, screaming and shouting with glee and adrenaline, wind tearing through their hair.
because the drugs never work
they're going to give you a smirk
cause they got methods of keeping you clean
Dan had always thought Phil looked pretty surrounded by smoke, opaque spirals clouding his ocean eyes and ink black hair. Dan's favorite Phil was the one only he got to see, tucked away in the clump of trees by the creek just a few paces away from the park at almost midnight, passing the joint back and forth and back and forth.
