Catharsis || Lashton AU - boyxboy

3. freisetzung

"Here we go again, another night of being bummed,
I'll keep to myself, avoid the sun and cancel plans with everyone,
I know 'cause this is how it always ends,
Our bond will break 'cause you can't relate to anyone, to anything at all."
A Day To Remember, It's Complicated ☯

Basically I decided to be that guy and start all my chapters with lyrics. Get over it you bum.

l.h.

"I-- Luke. What happened to your face?" I stuttered out, though I probably shouldn't have. People can be rather sensitive.

"Oi, mate, ain't that part of the story?" He said a bit critically, but like feathers at the same time.

I opened my mouth to respond but cut myself short - I didn't exactly have anything to say to that.

"Okay. Okay, I can do this. You're just a stranger, right? How bad could this be? Okay. Okay. Here goes." He said, twining his fingers together like strings. "Basically, from the minute I was born, I was quite the monstrosity."

"I was born into a shitty family, really. Well, I don't know, maybe I made it shitty. Shittier than it was. When I was like, eight years old I believe, I was diagnosed with everything in the book. You name it, I had it. Bipolar disorder, Panic Disorder - Anxiety worse than some of the doctors said they'd ever seen, Schizophrenia, Depression - Yeah, eight years old with depression. By the time I was twelve I was anorexic, had PTSD for a number of reasons... And let me tell you, several medications like that are not cheap." He said a bit jumbled like a jigsaw puzzle, like he was spewing his thoughts out at a million miles an hour.

"Anyways, my parents really hated me enough already. I mean, I guess I wouldn't use the word hate, but if they were given the opportunity to go back in time and use a condom, they'd take it in a heartbeat." He said with a chuckle as dry as the Sahara, shrugging his shoulder lightly.

"It was kind of your cliche nothing-I-ever-do-is-good-enough story. They--" He started, interupted by a light beeping sound.

He looked down at the watch wrapped around his wrist and turned it off, before bringing himself quickly to his feet and turning to walk away.

"I-- Wait!" I said, stopping him in his tracks.

"What?" He responded rather innocently, still focused on his watch.

"You didn't finish telling me your story... What happened to your face?" I questioned him again, but he just scoffed a bit playfully (I hoped) and turned back.

"Another day, yeah? I'm gonna get my ass kicked if I'm late." He said, turning to leave again.

"Wait!"

"What?" He groaned, turning to face me once more.

"You forgot your money." I said, holding the bill out to him.

"I didn't finish telling you my story." He said, dropping his hands to his side with a light smile on his face.

"Whatever. Take it anyways." I shrugged, chewing my lip anxiously.

And he sort of pulled himself towards me cautiously, before taking hold of the bill that I hadn't yet let go of.

"Just promise me you mean it. Another day, right?" I asked, practically choking on the lump in my throat.

And he just smiled. "I promise."

And with that, I released the bill and left him to go on with his life.

It was around seven and the streets had calmed down noticeably, so I picked up the sign and dusted off my pants, before walking across the road and back into my apartment building.

And on the whole ride up the elevator, my thoughts were fuzzy and crowded and my brain physically hurt because the number of possibilities that there were for Ashton and his story were absolutely endless and God, I could feel myself drowning in the flood of thoughts and I had to practically anchor myself back down to reality just to get him out of my mind.

So I plodded down the long hallway and I could practically feel the dark circles forming already beneath my eyes, and I was starting to worry if I would ever hear the rest of what Ashton had to say. Because it was so important.

I'd never not heard the rest of someone's story like that. They always finish. Given a lot of them are a bit short, I admit, but even when that's not the case. They always finish.

And so it's times like these when I wonder, do I really care? Or am I just nosey? Is that was this is? Me being nosey? God, I'd hate to think that. I tell myself all the time that it's just me caring, me helping people. But maybe it's not. Maybe it's a deep-rooted problem with being an intrusive asshole.

I did just say the possibilites were endless... Shit.

I'm a horrible person, aren't I?

Going around like that, demanding people's life stories! That's quite rude, isn't it? God.

No. No, that's not right. I'm just trying to help, right?

I smacked myself in the head a few times and then shook it, as if that were to somehow shake the thoughts right out of my head. The world was kind of spinning in a really horrible, off-kilter kind of way so I just pulled out my phone and threw myself onto the couch before ringing Van Gogh and making plans to take my mind of things, preferably without having to explain any of those to Sullivan.

He can be quite persistent sometimes.

Anyways, I just needed to waste a bit of time until tomorrow evening in hopes that "another day" would maybe possibly somehow be the very next one.

I'm not very good at it I don't think but I'm thinking I might start making covers for people. So you know. Hit me up bruh.

PS THIS SUCKED ANUS SOZ