It's Called Magic // APH Magic Trio

#5 - Lukas

Trigger warning - Mentions of suicide and self-harm in two paragraphs near the end. Please do not read if you believe this will trigger you. I have put further warnings before said paragraphs.
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"Well, why don't you try again?" Troll said. Lukas shook his head.
"No. I don't want to be annoying." Before Troll could think of a decent comeback, the familiar tune of the Skype ringtone filled both of their  ears. Lukas exchanged a glance with Troll before looking over. To his relief, it was from Arthur._.Kirkland. A sudden wave of fear came over Lukas, and his mind began to wander. What if Arthur didn't like him? What if he isn't who he said he is? What if- Before Lukas' mind could stray any further, Troll clicked answer.

A blonde boy was on the screen, his hair messy but strangely neat at the same time. He had large eyebrows but his chubby cheeks took away the emphasis on his brows. His eyes reminded Lukas of shamrock and his smile was as excited as a puppy.
"Hello Lukas! Oh my god, I can't believe I'm actually speaking to you right now. It's an absolute pleasure to meet you! I am, as I'm sure you've already figured, Arthur Kirkland!
With a small smile, Lukas answered, "Of course, it is also a pleasure to meet you too, Arthur. And yes, I am Lukas. But again, I must ask that you keep this Skype account of mine a secret. Please don't share it with any of your friends." An awkward chuckle came from the boy on the other end of the screen.
"Well, I don't really have many friends to share it with. Plus the friends I do have wouldn't believe me anyway, they don't believe in magic."
With a frown, Lukas replied in the same calm, monotone he usually used, "You don't? I guess we are more alike than I had originally thought."
Arthur looked taken aback. "You don't have many friends? You always seemed like the popular type to me."
"Seriously, Arthur?" A few quiet giggles escaped from Lukas' lips, "I have the social skills of a rock; and by that I mean nonexistent." Although Arthur snickered at the sarcasm, he still looked concerned, so Lukas awkwardly elaborated.
"You see, I've always been a quiet kid. In Barneskole, I believe your equivalent is primary school, many of the other kids picked on me because I was odd to them, and they knew it'd be easy to hurt me. I was a tiny little boy back then, nothing like the tall, lanky guy I am today, so I couldn't really stick up for myself. But the thing is, my cousin Berwald, and my brother, Mathias, were in the class above me, and I always had them with me. Every break time, I'd run around the playground with them and some of their friends. If anything ever happened to me, they were there to stick up for me. But then me and Berwald drifted apart and Mathias...well...he stopped going to school. He doesn't go there anymore." For a moment, Lukas paused and pulled a sour face as images of his brother's current state flashed through his mind. Clearing his throat, he continued, "I went to Ungdomsskole - secondary school? - alone. Without Mathias and Berwald I've had pretty much nobody."
Arthur wore a sympathetic grimace, "I'm sorry, Lukas. I had no ide-"
Lukas was quick to dismissively shake his head, "It's fine. I don't have the desire to be friends with them. They're pathetic. The lot of them. The only things I care about in school are Chemistry, biology, and Emil."
Suddenly, a smile of recognition grew on Arthur's face, "Ah, he's your younger brother, right? I believe you mentioned him on your Tumblr."
"You follow my Tumblr, too? My, you are a dedicated fan." Lukas sang, a hint of amusement on his pale face, "Am I that interesting?" However, when Arthur replied with an enthusiastic nod, Lukas seemed taken aback.
"Really?! That's...that's nice of you to say." A brief, awkward silence followed before Lukas asked, "Can you see my Nissie? His name is Troll."
On the screen, Arthur nodded again and beamed, "Oh my god, he's amazing! Hey, Troll! Who's the cut-"
"Careful, Arthur." Lukas interjected, "Nissies aren't like most creatures, they're wise, snappy, and certainly don't like baby-talk."
"Oh, I'm sorry!" Arthur yelped, blushing profusely, "Hi, Mr. Troll. How are you?"
Meanwhile, Troll just laughed. His only reply to Arthur was a wink and a thumbs up.
"So anyway, Arthur. I believe I mentioned in the email that I would be interested in tutoring you?"
Again, Arthur grinned like a child on Christmas Day.
"Yes! I'm honoured, by the way."
Lukas sniggered slightly, "Don't be. I'm honoured to meet a new fr-"
A gruff, snarky voice came from outside Lukas' room and made him scowl.
"Wow, you're socialising?" Teased his father in their native Norwegian, "The world must be coming to an end. Who's the unlucky soul who's been lumbered with your company, then?"
Lukas snarled at the closed wooden door. "Just a friend." He replied, also in Norwegian.
"Oh, a friend?" His father sang, "Do you mean a proper friend, or that freaky Romanian kid? What's his name; Count Dracula? I'm sure it's something like that, like a vampire name...Edward Cullen? Oh, who's the one Alexander Skarsgård plays...Eric Northman!"
Lukas huffed and crossed his arms, pulling his sleeves down to his knuckles and begging the conversation to be over.
"His name is Vladimir, dad."
His father yelled in victory, "Vladimir! That's it! I knew it was a weird-ass name! Is that who your speaking to? Vladimir, the one who's fucked up in the head?"
"No, dad." Lukas answered quietly, "His name is Arthur and he's English."
On the other side of the door, he heard his father grunt, "Lukas, why don't you make some normal friends here in Norway, seeing as that's actually where you live. But at least he's English. Maybe your English grade will start improving now, hm?"
Lukas clenched his teeth and his gaze flickered to his school bag; a plain black backpack. "I told you dad, I'm not bad at English. I just-I just got nervous in the speaking test and flicked into Norwegian, that's all."
His father hummed, "Yes, well you better stop getting nervous and switching into Norwegian!"
"Dad!" Lukas yelled, already exasperated with his father's sly remarks, "If you're so mad at me for speaking Norwegian, then why are you so angry that I have an English friend? Maybe if I speak English casually, I'll be less nervous in a te-"
His father's condescending laugh sounded throughout his room, "Nervous? Nervous! You're such a pussy, Lukas. You're nothing like Mathias, or even Berwald for that matter. They're not pussies; they played ice hockey and did boxing together! You? You do figure skating and weird magic shit! Why can't you be more like Mathias, Lukas? Why can't you be a normal boy? Why can't you make normal friends like Mathias? And then actually make plans and talk to said friends, like Mathias? Or do a sport - a proper sport, not some girly dancing. Why don't you just act normal like Mathias? If Emil grows up to be a pussy like you, I'll never forgive you."
Trigger warning
Each time Mathias' name reached Lukas' ear, a tear streaked down his face. In a soft voice, he answered,
"I want to be like Mathias. I want to do what he did."
"Maybe you should." His father hissed, voice cool and heartless, "It'd be best for all of us. You're a lost cause, Lukas. It's a shame it was Mathias and not you, because you know what? Mathias has people who love him. You? I don't think anybody would even notice if you did it. I think the only person who would care is your mum."
Lukas didn't answer. It was only when he heard his father trod downstairs that he took a shaky breath.
"Uhm, Lukas, are you okay? That sounded like an awful lot of shouting."
Lukas practically jumped ten feet into the air. He'd completely forgotten Arthur was on Skype with him. Waiting a moment, checking that his face couldn't be seen, he mumbled.
"I'm fine. Arthur I have to go. I will call you back at...five 0' clock tonight. Okay?"
Arthur seemed bewildered but complied, "Okay, sounds good. I hope you and troll are okay."
"Yes, we are fine." Lukas hastily answered, "Thank you, Arthur. I'm sorry our conversation ended on such a miserable note. Goodbye."
Lukas ended the call and ran his hand through his hair, feeling more tears stream down his face. He took his cross-shaped pin out of his hair and traced the markings. Originally, it was his brother's, but he'd given it to Lukas on one of his last days. He never lets it out of his sight now. A knock on the door scared the living daylights out of him and he clawed at his face, wiping any tears away. The door stayed closed.
"Lukas? Me, your dad, and Emil are going shopping. We'll only be an hour or two. Will you be okay here, or do you want to come?"
"I'll be fine to stay here, thanks." Lukas was trying his best to keep his voice from shaking. After a quick farewell from his mother, he put his head down on his desk and waited until he heard his parents and brother leave. Then, he dragged himself to his feet.
"Lukas," Troll started warily, "Are you sure you're alright?"
Lukas ignored him and, hands and knees shaking like a leaf, trod barefooted to the bedroom opposite his. Taking a couple of deep breaths in a vain attempt to calm himself down, Lukas touched the door that had not been opened for almost a year and a half. Slowly, cautiously, he turned the knob and pushed it open. His feet were cushioned by a furry red rug as he walked inside and closed the door behind him.
Trigger warning
He examined the room. Everything was the same. There was a lot of red, save for his snow-white bedsheets. Lots of trophies and medals adorned a bookshelf, each of them proudly sporting the name 'Mathias Bondevik'. Polaroid photos adorned the room. Photos of Mathias with Lukas and Emil, with Berwald, with his friends. Piles of schoolbooks, half finished assignments, and multiple hair gels cluttered his desk, forming a circle around his red laptop. His wardrobe was the way it always was; half opened with his shoes poking out of it. His hockey kit hung proudly in the middle of his room, right next to his tv. Next to the tv there were shelves adorned with comics and films. Lukas turned to the bed. Again, everything was eerily identical to the way it was. Blood splatters darkened the snowy white bedsheets. Empty tablet packets loitered around the strewn bedsheets and in the middle of them lied a bloodied razor. Lukas edged closer. Meekly, he threw the empty packets into the red wastebasket and put the blade in his pocket for later. Barely able to hold himself up, he collapsed onto Mathias' bed. Looking straight back at him, on the bedside table, was a framed picture of Mathias, Lukas, and Emil.
Lukas did something that he hadn't done since Mathias left. He screamed.