Everything was always the same. Wake up, eat, go out, get high, go back home, get yelled at and sleep. That was Luke Hemmings' routine and he couldn't say he regretted it.
And yes, those were his plans for that day.
He got out of bed and went to the bathroom to fix himself up a bit, styling his quiff and brushing his teeth. Then he threw a red flannel on with his typical black skinny jeans and went downstairs.
He walked into the kitchen to see the usual. His pale mother reading the newspaper while sipping at her coffee. She tightened her jaw when he walked in, something he noticed she did a lot when he was around her. It was like if his presence made her angry.
Well, I'm your son so deal with it, he thought.
But he was wrong.
His mom wore a serious facade covering her actual sad being. It had been hard. She never thought it would end up like that. Luke barely speaking to her, and she constantly trying to reach out to him, only to find herself with a barely visible ghost of what Luke used to be.
She wanted to bring that Luke out again. The one who used to kiss her cheek and make breakfast for her. The one who used to played with his brothers to the point of almost breaking stuff around the house, something she hated back then because she had to constantly check for broken plates or things on the floor but the irony is that now, she needed that more than anything.
"Morning, Luke" Liz, his mom, whispered, continuing to eat her breakfast. When she didn't get a response, she added "What are you doing today, son?". He huffed from behind her and she heard him moving around a little.
"Why do you ask things you already know?" he asked with a edgy tone to his voice.
There it was again, the sound of her heart breaking inside of her, but still she tried to keep her voice steady and firm.
"Well," she paused, "what if I don't want you to do what you always do?" she said slowly, preparing herself for an outburst. But she never got one. Instead, she got something even more painful.
He laughed. "I'm 19 now, I don't need your permission".
"Oh, so you're old enough on those aspects of life but not when it comes down to me still giving you a proper place to live and 4 decent meals everyday" she growled, making him snap.
"Fuck you" he spit and stormed out of the kitchen, grabbing a jacket of his from the living room couch. Normally he'd get through breakfast but not today. He already wanted to leave.
She wasn't able to catch up with him before he opened the front door and started walking away from the house. He didn't know where he was going, not that he needed to. He just wanted to be far from her at that moment.
Some pot would do me good right now, he thought, and then remembered he had some in the pocket of his black leather jacket. He decided to head off to his best friend's - Calum - garage, where he could usually smoke without anyone seeing him. Calum's mom wasn't at home that much because she worked a lot so she didn't know Luke was such a constant visit at their home, almost everytime bringing some kind of "relaxing treatment", as Luke called them.
He walked through the pavement, which had a certain glow due to the drizzle starting to cover the city, looking down at his feet, just thinking.
Maybe I shouldn't have said that to my mother, he thought. But then again he knew that that was what he did. Whenever someone tried to "help" him or "get" to him, he blocked them out inmediatly, no matter who it was. That's just the way he handled it in order to not feel guilty about anything. It didn't always work, though, and there were times when he would feel bad. But nothing some alcohol or a joint can't fix, right?
