city of achilles {bxb}

chapter 4

author's note AND SPOILER ALERT: hi there! really, REALLY long next two chapters coming up! both flashbacks to last sunday. in case you wanna skip them, here's the main things to take away from these two chapters:

1. the meetings are corrupt and the majority of people there are fake and judgemental (i know this from personal experiences)

2. Marco starts painting the Greek God Atlas (this is relevant later on in his relations with Leon and has a symbolic meaning)

3. a flashback to grade seven where Marco's mom makes him promise to never be gay (as a result of her noticing his self-expression becoming more androgynous)

4. a flashback to a conversion session with brother Geraldine

5. Marco's celebrity crush is Logan Lerman (whose isn't, honestly?)

SPOILER OVER! continue if you'd like to or skip this part! hope you enjoy!

(Last) Sunday

It was bad. This is how it went:

"Marco."

A muffled voice speaks.

"Marco. Wake up."

I groan.

"Marco!"

The voice yells and a hand shakes me.

I flinch as I open my eyes. Mom is hovering over me as she pulls my blanket off of me. I wake up instantly panicking, managing to keep my sheet covering my body. That was a close one.

"We're gonna be late for the meeting, get ready. The circuit overseer is visiting."

"Wha...?" I mumble, my heart pounding from the close call.

"The circuit overseer. Brother Ling and his wife."

I groan again. Mom rolls her eyes.

"Don't give me that attitude. I don't wanna see that when we visit sister Reed, either." She scolds me. "She invited us, the Lings, and a couple other families over for dinner next Sunday."

I hold back a groan. Who the hell is sister Reed? "Why don't you tell me when we-" I start. "Nevermind." I shake my head.

"Good. Now get ready, your sisters are already at the front door."

I hold back an 'oh fuck' as she gets up to leave. I make sure she's up the stairs before I get out of the sheets. I've started keeping my clothes in the basement because I almost never go upstairs to my actual room anymore. I have all my clothes folded up in their consecutive cardboard boxes underneath the desk (which mom hates). I take out generic black slacks, a generic black waistcoat, and a generic black shirt. I absolutely refuse to wear colour to the meetings. It's my way of rebelling and telling people that I don't wanna be there.

My hair's a mess. I fell asleep with it last night in a bun, so now it's sticking out in random places. I take out the elastic and shake it out. Mom has a love-hate relationship with my hair. She says I look pretty with it, but says she wishes I looked less pretty and more handsome, even though we've discussed this. Weird how my hair has had to be an entire conversation piece. There's a story to that too. So here's the-

"Marco! Hurry up!"

Ugh.

I re-wrap my left arm in a fresh bandage that doesn't have blood on it. It's taken quite a lot in the past week at this new school. While it is already better than Wilfrid, it's still hard and it's not so amazing that I'll break a habit that I've had since I was twelve. Addiction, if you will. It's been five years now and mom still hasn't found out. She knows I'm depressed- I've been diagnosed- but she doesn't know about this. She's just never questioned why I never wear short sleeves even in the summertime. I think it goes to show how little attention she pays to me. I mean, why would you pay attention to your son who you sort of hate when you have a daughter who's at marriage age and another daughter who wants to start dating? There's more important things.