does your stomach hurt? // philkas

chapter one

disclaimer: this whole story is based off of the tv show 'eyewitness' ,,, like all rights to you nd shit. but my homo loving ass loves these two characters with everything in me i just had to write some fan fiction about it.  lmao anyway enjoy x

o shit, and it isn't gonna be like the show like no murders or anything like that, and it isn't gonna exactly go the same road as the show, but it will have some parts in it that will be quite similar to the show. 

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All Philip feels is worry and regret. He's never felt anything more or anything less, well unless you count the times (which are many) he's had a few one night stands with his right hand of course, then he would feel a little bit of bliss, only for a few minutes a night. Nothing major. He's never really had a safe background, his mom was a drug addict. Philip never knew if he would go back home to a loving Mom who had open arms and nothing but love for him, or if he would go back to a place he couldn't even call home, for it had been taken over by men with loads of tattoos that barely could cover up the track marks on their arms. 

His head pounds with every thought running through it, only getting worse by the second. The pain lingers in his chest as he replays the night beforehand. He regrets it. He regrets it so fucking much he can barely breathe. He tries to tell himself that he had to do it. That if he didn't his mom could be dead, or he could be, which in that moment he would of preferred. 

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PHILIP'S POV

"Philip! Wake up! It's time to get the day a rollin' or else you're gonna be late for your first day." I groaned. As if I would've gotten any sleep. I haven't really slept much since that night.  "Philip!"

I groaned louder, stretching my arms above my head, yawning, before yelling back some kind of incoherent answer about being awake. I grabbed my phone, scrolling through all of the texts I probably shouldn't be receiving, smirking at some. 

Next thing I know it's 30 minutes later and I'm still in bed scrolling through instagram, my heart starts pounding hard. What if I just don't go in? Or pretend to be sick? Or literally do anything or say anything just to get out of actually going to school. I think, coming to the concluding thought that mom wouldn't want me to do this, she'd want me in school, learning, being happy, making friends... that's the thing though. I can't make friends, I've never been capable. I sigh.

I hoist myself up out of bed and make my way over to the duffle bag I have, full of all the things I have ever owned. I hurriedly pull out some jeans and my jacket, deciding just to wear the shirt I had worn to bed. No need for first impressions. No one's gonna like the new gay foster kid. No one ever does.

"Morning, how'd you sleep?" Gabe pries at me, trying to get me to talk. I haven't really said anything to anyone about anything since two nights ago. It made me weak. Being taken away from my mom made me weak. 

"It was fine, thanks." I said, walking through the door to begin my walk to school. I had too much to think about to be locked up in some random persons tiny car, where everything was just... trapped. 

I haven't made it very far, before realizing I had no idea where I was even headed. Right, a new school a new me. I headed back to Gabe and Helen's. I turned the corner and I could see them on the porch, laughing at a joke of some kind. I wish I had enough energy to laugh. I walked, slowly up to them, not really knowing if I should interrupt or what. I coughed, making them look back towards me.

"Ah, just the man we were talking about, wandered where ya went off to." Helen laughed, I tried to crack a smile, but failed, probably looking like a lunatic that had just lost his favorite murdering knife or saw or whatever they use.