Tattooed Illusions (BxB)

E I G H T

☀️ Apollo Jansen ☀️
Apollo's fists slammed into the tiled wall of the bathroom repeatedly, tears blurring his vision, as crimson liquid painted his knuckles. Apollo bit down on his bottom lip, running his hand through his locks aggressively, in an attempt to distract himself from the pain his best friend endures on a daily basis.

Piercing screams echoed through the silence, followed by a string of curse words. Emotions of anger and sadness battled for the upper hand.

Heidi's sleeping body sprawled out beside him, his head lying on Apollo's lap. His brown hair fanned his face, dipping into his chesnut colored orbs and outlined by long eyelashes.

The cuts fresh on Heidi's skin, hidden beneath tattoos, burned in his mind. His tear stained cheeks and bloodshot eyes. The untouched bag of cocaine sitting beside him.

When is it going to stop? When am I going to stop hurting myself? Am I ever going to be okay? Apollo, please make it stop.

Heidi's words played in his head like a cassette tape, reminding him of the heartbreaking pain tearing Heidi apart, leaving him as a shell of the cheerful boy he was before.

I'm sorry, Apollo, Heidi whispered to him before his eyelids, overwhelmed with sleep, fluttered shut. I'm sorry I didn't tell you I was hurting. I thought you wouldn't understand.

Maybe I wouldn't understand, Apollo admitted. But I'd still care. Heidi, I've always cared.

Heidi didn't hear him, though, for he was sleeping. But in reality, Apollo was telling himself. He was telling himself that he cared more about Heidi than a best friend should. As always, however, Apollo brushed it aside, afraid to come to terms with his feelings for him.

Zion yelped, fear circling through his honey colored irises, as Jeong glared menacingly at him. His dark locks sat messily on his head, a few strands falling into his eyes. The boy tried desperately to mask his fear, but unlike the rest of the students, he couldn't hide his emotions.

"I'm sorry," he choked out. "For whatever I did to you."

Regret washed over the black haired boy, but he masked it with a look of indifference. "Don't apologize," he warned. "It'll get you hurt."

Zion forced out a dry laugh. "Hurt? Since when did you start caring about me?"

"I don't," he replied smoothly, his words void of emotion. "But no one apologizes here."

Zion shrugged nonchalantly. "I guess I'm no one then, huh?" With a final shove, to establish his unwavering dominance, Jeong walked away from Zion.

Jeong brushed past several students, most with cigarettes between their fingers, on his way to the school's courtyard. A few of them glared at him, but Jeong paid them no mind.

Jeong let his head fall back against the cool metal of the fence, his dark hair tickling his skin, as he brought his knees up to his chest.

The grass surrounding the school was mostly dead, much like the building itself, and still damp from morning dew. Behind him stood a basketball hoop, with the net tearing apart at the seams, on a slab of concrete.

"Remember when we'd play basketball?"

Jaehyung sat beside him, his legs Indian style. Jeong glanced up, his dark irises meeting those of his brother. "Yeah, I remember," he confessed, fiddling with the loose strings of his hoodie.

Jaehyung handed him a can of beer that he swiped from Apollo's fridge. "Do you remember when she'd laugh hysterically, even when what she said wasn't funny?"

"Not even remotely funny," Jeong gave a short laugh.

"Do you remember when she found you making out with Michael in the living room?"

Jeong laughed, the melodic vibration echoing with the sudden gust of wind.
"She screamed for dad, claiming that he owed her twenty bucks. Michael wouldn't talk to me after that. He wasn't that great of a kisser, anyway."

The boys burst into a fit of laughter, tears gathering in their eyes, as the memories of their mom were recounted.

Jeong reached into the back pocket of his jeans and pulled out a worn-out photograph. His fingers grazed the aged photo of his parents. Both of them were smiling, their teeth hidden.

That was taken a decade before Jeong was born. A decade before his mom became depressed. A decade before she committed suicide.

Her raven hair was tied up into a perfect bun atop her head, revealing her small, acorn brown eyes. His hair, dark brown, was swept to the side. He and Jeong shared the same eye color, nearly black, and some have mistaken them as brothers.

"I remember that picture," Jaehyung mumbled, scooting closer to Jeong. "Mom told us it was true love. She told us not to settle for less."

"Yeah, dad still loves her. I hear him crying in the odd hours of the night when he swears he's sleeping. That's why I left that house. I can't take all the memories hanging in the photo frames."

In agreement, Jaehyung smiled sadly. Because he refused to walk in that house, either. Although he didn't carry the blame of her death, it haunted him.

Reese sat down beside Nika, head against his bed frame. "You have to help me, Nika. I can't stop thinking about him."

"Stop fooling around." Reese arched an eyebrow. Confusion was written across his face. "Let Jaehyung open up to you and in time, he'll trust you. You have to let him know that he's not just sex to you. You called him a toy, Reese. If you want him to forgive you, you have to show him you're willing to change. Not for him, but for yourself."

Reese downed a beer he swiped from Heidi, letting the liquor burn his throat.

You called him a toy, Reese.