Prologue:

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This story was on my Larry_Lashton account, which was sadly deleted. Luckily I had it saved on my ao3, which is linked in my bio if you wanna go there just in case. 

my instagram is hazandtae, if you want to follow me there as well. I'm updating people on what's going on and what stories are being uploaded so far, etc. 

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Everyone has a problem in their life. Whether it's depression, anxiety, a disorder or simply not doing well in school. People deal with these problems everyday and a lot of them try hiding it. Luke is one of those people. He doesn't like letting anyone know when he's sad or depressed, because that's adding another problem to those people's lives.

He would much rather let himself suffer than add another weight on someone's shoulder. The only person he even talks to is Michael, actually. Michael is his best friend, other half and shoulder to lean on. He isn't much help, though. Mainly because Michael barely talks, and when he does, it's a small whisper and so quiet Luke can barely hear it.

That's okay, though. Luke completely understands why Michael is this way. Just like he said, everyone has their problems in life and Michael's is something they barely talk about, for obvious reasons. They don't need words, anyways. They only need each other and that's it.

But, lately Luke wants more. He needs other people to talk to as well, not because Michael isn't enough - he definitely is- but because he simply wants to help others as well and have someone to help him.

There was a ringing sound, causing Luke to mumble into his bare bed. The mattress didn't have a sheet, only a thin blanket covering his body and he sighed sadly when turning off his alarm. A frown formed on his face, and he wanted to skip school so badly, act sick or sleep in but that can't happen in his house.

He reluctantly got up, stretching and walked across his small room. He went through his closet, grimacing at the smell of his dirty jeans. It wasn't his fault, his parents don't let him wash his clothes often. After changing into is ripped jeans (he didn't buy them that way) he then tugged on a plain black shirt and black jacket with a black snapback on. He's not emo, black is just his favorite color. People don't see it that way, though.

Everyone assumes he's depressed. You can say he is, but it's more of a long, sad feeling. He doesn't try to be sad, unlike most depressed people, he attempts to make himself happy. It doesn't always work. Maybe he does this so his friend is happy, Michael isn't a very smiley person and Luke does his best to let a tiny smile appear on Michael's lips. He's the only one who can do that.

A knock was heard and he readied himself, turning and saw his dad (dare he call the man that) walk in. The first time you would see the guy, you would expect him to be a sweet, strict yet funny guy. Honestly, he is. But, he is also a very harsh man who doesn't treat his son like he should.

"Why the hell are you still getting dress? Your little mute friend is outside waitin' for ya," His dad sneered, grabbing Luke by the hood and tugged him forward roughly. "Get your ass downstairs in the next three minutes or else."

A glare formed on Luke's face but he nodded and mumbled,"Kay."

"Speak up, and wipe that glare off your face." Luke ignored him and received a smack in the face, trying not to react to it. But, right when his dad left, he winced and rubbed his throbbing cheek.

He never tried letting the 'abuse' get to him. To Luke, it wasn't abuse. It was just stupidity. His dad only smacked him, one time he did get pushed and fell down the stairs though. That was the worst of it. He got a broken leg, however it never happened much after that since his dad was simply drunk.

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