Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It was simple for you to just go to school every day, keep your head down, and ignore everyone else. Note-taking came easy to you, and paying attention came easier. Paying attention in Literature, however, was compromised by a giant mane of turquoise curls. You sighed out a breath through your nose, glaring at the leather-clad back of the person who had taken the seat in front of you in the middle of lecture.

The teacher finished his train of thought, then stopped to look at the guy in front of you, “Leigh, you’ve been absent for four classes straight, and now you’ve arrived twenty minutes late.”

The guy shrugged, “So what?”

“See me after class,” the teacher responded, clearly not wanting to get into the argument now. But ‘Leigh’ seemed invested in wasting everyone’s time and arguing with Mr. Jefferson.

“I’d rather not,” he said.

Mr. Jefferson pinched the bridge of his nose, “You’re already breaking plenty of rules with the cigarettes, piercings, clothes, and tattoos. Don’t make this harder for yourself.”

He shrugged, and you could feel his smirk even though you couldn’t see his face, “Well....” The way his voice trailed with a lilt on the end told you that whatever he was about to say was going to cause some sort of riot within the classroom. “I don’t give a shit.”

Several students gasped, and the girl next to you looked down at the cross around her neck, holding it between two fingers. The teacher’s eyes narrowed, “Go to the office.”

“Bite me.”

“Now.”

“Fuck off.” More collective gasps.

“Mr. Avidan, report to the office or I will call the principal to get you myself.”

He leaned back, stretching his arms up, out, and then behind his head, fingers splayed out within the turquoise locks. His body language screamed the challenge he’d said before. The chair he was sitting in leaned back on two legs, and that was when Mr. Jefferson snapped.

With a stomp, Jefferson went to the phone on the wall, tapping in three numbers and letting it ring. After the assumed pick-up, he spoke, “Miss Rosenblum? Leigh Avidan is causing a disturbance in class....Yes, that would be good...thank you. I appreciate it.” He turned to Leigh now, “Mrs. Thornton is coming.” Another pause. “Now class, back to Jack Kerouac.”

You couldn’t help but be intrigued by Leigh. After all, people like him never happened at Bridgewater. It was shocking enough for someone who wasn’t religious to go to Bridgewater, let alone someone who had bright blue hair, piercings, tattoos, and didn’t abide by the uniform. You looked around at all the perfectly ironed button downs and blouses, the pleated skirts and khakis, and then at him. Him in his leather jacket and dark washed jeans, worn combat boots and a so-faded-you-couldn’t-read shirt. He was out of place, and that intrigued you.

It intrigued you for all the wrong reasons.

~*~

At lunch, you saw him sitting with his group of other kids who didn’t abide by Bridgewater’s rules. There were three you didn’t recognize, but two you did other than Leigh. One was a female, with dark as pitch hair, save for one streak of blonde right down the side. She had an eyebrow piercing and eyeliner that could’ve killed someone. It was evident she was practiced in that art, lips dark burgundy and eyes a beautiful green. The other was another male, shorter than Leigh, with brown hair and the same blonde streak in it. He had a single lip ring to the right side of his face, and currently was scratching his stubble and listening to the female speak, his brown eyes focused on her.

And then there was Leigh. Back to you, watching the other two. His turquoise mane partially obstructed the other male’s face, but you leaned to get a better angle, eating your sandwich in peace. Then, after deciding you had stared at him longer than was probably socially acceptable, you went back to staring at your sandwich and eating it slowly. You crumpled the bag the sandwich was in among your other trash, and you had started to stand when a figure stood in front of you.

A voice, unfamiliar to you, with a simple greeting, “Hey.”

You spoke to the trash in your hands rather than the person in front of you as you said, “Hello.”

“What are you doing after school?” the voice asked.

“Nothing, just studying,” you said to the wrapper for a granola bar.

“Meet me by the bleachers after school, out by the lacrosse fields.” Before you could protest, the person had walked away. You could’ve sworn you saw Leigh sitting down as you looked up to catch whoever had been talking to you, but then you decided it was just your imagination.

Part of you knew you shouldn’t go to the bleachers. After all, rape culture was still a thing, and there were a few incidents at your school like that anyways. Especially because the person you thought had been asking you to meet him there was Leigh.

But the other part of you wanted to go there. Just because it was Leigh and you felt like you could trust him. It was wrong to feel that way, you knew that. Leigh was trouble with a capital T, and you knew that. And yet, you still couldn’t stop yourself from texting your mother under the lunch table, telling her you’d be late coming home and that you’d get a ride from a friend. She asked where you were going.

You lied to her.

~*~

Classes went by, and the intrigue pooling in your stomach only increased as you wondered who it was, why they asked you. The final bell rang and you listened to the announcements, marking down that there was a club meeting tomorrow during homeroom. Then, after hurrying to your locker and getting your books, you locked the lock and went out to the fields. It was about ten minutes before you made it to the bleachers, getting distracted by friends and the general distance of walking that it took.

The first thing you saw was a mass of blue hair, and your heart lept in your chest.

A turn, and you saw his face for the first time. Brown eyes, stubble trailing his cheeks and chin, pretty pink lips, and a silvery septum piercing glittering in his nose. You noted the undercut in his hair, roots growing in a dark brown where the blue dye had been missed.

He smiled, all teeth, and your heart lept twice, “Didn’t think you’d come, baby girl.”

You found yourself with an air of confidence, “Why not?”

A smirk came onto his lips as his smile fell, “I didn’t think I was your kind of crowd, is all. I mean, what’s a girl like you,” he gestured to your pretty pink blouse and navy skirt, “hanging out with the punk kids for?” He gestured to his friends, the same ones you saw earlier.

You shrugged. “Maybe you guys could be my kind of crowd.”

“Oh really?” Leigh asked, eyebrow quirked.

The boy with the blonde streak laughed a little, “When’s the last time you’ve smoked?”

The word didn’t want to leave you and you thought about lying, too late, as you said, “Never.”

“Pffft. Not our kind of girl, Danny,” the female said.

Danny?

Leigh shrugged, “She could be. We’ve just gotta teach her what it’s like to be in our crowd, maybe. Give her a chance.”

You walked a little closer, and Leigh put a hand on your shoulder, “We’ll pull the punk out of you, yet, baby girl. Believe me.”

“What’s the first step?” you asked, surprising yourself even as you said it. This was wrong, wrong, wrong. Your parents would disown you for doing this.

But it was Leigh.

“First step, I want you to go home and look up a piercing you wanna get. Suzy,” he gestured to the female, “can help you with it tomorrow.”

“Okay,” you said. Why were you agreeing? Why why why? If you came home with a facial piercing, your parents would make you remove it so quickly. You decided to just ‘forget’ to, and take more time getting to know them before you did anything drastic.

Suzy spoke up now, “Hey, Arin and I wanted to get going so we could catch a movie before our show tonight.”

“Alright. I’ll see you guys later then.” Suzy and the guy with the blonde streak--Arin--walked away with waves. The other three left naturally, and then it was just you and Leigh.

You and Leigh.

He had asked you to sit down with him, and you were a respectful distance away from him on the ratty old couch they’d dragged under the bleachers. He held a cigarette loosely in his fingers, not lit, and twirled it nimbly.

“Why do you have a cigarette if you aren’t going to smoke it?”

“Because cigarettes look cool, but they aren’t cool for your voice. Suzy and Arin can smoke all they want, but I can’t. I’m the singer.”

“Is your entire punk thing just to look cool?” You had no idea where the boldness came from.

“That’s a story for another time, (y/n).”

You huffed.

“What, do you want to smoke it? Make it feel less miserable about not being smoked?” He twisted to pull a lighter from his jacket, flicked it, and lit the cigarette. Immediately the smell of it filled your nose, and you batted away the smoke.

“No, thank you.”

“Alright, alright.” He stubbed it out on the side of his boot, where you noticed several other similar marks. Leigh shoved the cigarette back in the box, and leaned back to stretch. “So, do you want to come to our show tonight?”

“What’s your band called?”

“Dudes and Dolls.”

“Sounds original. I’ll see what I can do. Where is it?”

“Riot Cafe. Y’know, off Orchard?”

“Oh, I know where that is. Time?”

“Ten tonight.”

“I’ll try to make it.”

Leigh smiled and then there was a drag of silence. Cicadas hummed in the summer air and birds pecked at the asphalt. Without warning, he shoved his phone at you. You took it, looking at a new contact screen. You warily typed in your contact information and his brown eyes twinkled. Then you handed it back, but he handed it to you again a few minutes later, this time with iTunes open.

There was the artist name on the top: Dudes and Dolls. Then their discography. What It Feels Like. Secondhand High. Backstreet Dreams. Echolocation. What If? Entrepreneurship.

You were interested. “What’s your favorite song?”

“Probably either Secondhand High or Echolocation.”

You clicked on the play button by Echolocation, and out blasted some very clearly punk music. You found yourself enjoying it more than the typical bubblegum pop.

Then Leigh started singing.

How can I let this go?

Calling out to you isn’t enough.

I should’ve, I should’ve known.

And reaching for you,

is like reaching for smoke.

I can’t find you

in the darkness of the night.

Echolocation

couldn’t lead me to you

now.

Chills ran down your spine, and you looked at him, his eyes closed and hair falling against his cheeks.

His voice startled you from the music, “I remember recording that day. Arin, Suze, and I hadn’t really decided entirely how we wanted it to sound, so I kinda made it up.” You waited for him to continue as he ran a hand through his curls. “Y’know that sort of drag on ‘echolocation’?” You nodded. “Ad-libbed.”

You found yourself filled with admiration for Leigh now. It was clear he was talented at what he did. You knew you were going to convince your parents to take you to the show, you had to hear him live, had to hear his voice again.

And you stood and said, “I should get going, but you’ll see me at the show tonight, Leigh.”

“Can’t wait, baby girl.”

Chapter Text

That night, you stood in front of Riot Cafe. The lights of the bar were bright against the deep navy of night, but you squinted hard enough to see a poster on the door.

Bands Featured Tonight:

Dudes and Dolls

Bluebells

Wanderlust

There were a few more bands on the list, as well as the specials on alcohol and other things. This didn’t matter to you, and you pulled the door open and walked in. A band was already on stage, and you saw the sign behind them read Regression. That meant that Leigh and his band either had already gone or hadn’t gone yet.

You slid into a booth, and enjoyed the peace of the band playing and generic background noise, until the clatter of a glass hit your table and you heard people sliding into your booth, next to you. You looked forward to see Suzy and Arin across from you, and Leigh to your left. Leigh had slid you a beer, and you didn’t know how to say that you didn’t want it, so you just left it sitting in front of you.

“(y/n), you came!” Suzy said, surprised.

“I wanted to see you guys perform.”

“We’re nothin’ special,” Arin said with a laugh.

Leigh teased them now, “You guys are pretty special.”

A duet of ‘oh shut up’ came in response, followed by giggles from the three of them. You fell easily into laughing with them, and for a moment you could forget that these kids were probably bad for you. A man in black came over and spoke into Leigh’s ear for a moment, before hurrying off. “Well, that’s our cue to start setting up for our set.”

You waved Suzy and Arin away as they left, but Leigh straggled back for a moment, “Any requests?”

You thought back to what he said to you earlier.

“Probably either Secondhand High or Echolocation.”

You thought back to the texts he sent you a few hours later after he’d texted you the address to the bar.

< Do you guys do love songs?

> Only 1 of our songs so far is a love song.

> Not even really traditional. It’s got love + hate.

< What is it called?

> Inamorata.

“Yeah. Could you do Secondhand High or Inamorata?”

“We’ll see, baby girl.” He stood, a pat to your shoulder and the tingles danced up your skin as you watched the blue locks on his head catch the neon lights. The light splashed on his skin as he set up his microphone and warmed up his voice. You couldn’t hear what he was singing, but you watched him lean against the wall next to the keyboard player, one of his friends, and singing as the keyboardists’ fingers went up the keys. Watching this told you that Leigh had a very large register.

The lights dimmed, and you heard Leigh’s voice. “Hey guys and gals, we’re Dudes and Dolls,” he paused, somehow knowing there would be a laugh. “Thanks for having us out here tonight. Our first song is called Entrepreneurship.”

This song was an upbeat song, exciting and fun. The bass thrummed through your veins, but Leigh’s voice filled your veins in a different way. After a few more songs, his eyes met yours for a brief moment, the twinkle of a smile in his eyes and he smirked. “This next song is called Inamorata.”

He was singing that song. He was singing it for you.

The blue hair fell over his eyes as he sang, smile nothing but teeth. His eyes kept trailing to yours, biting his lip and eyes sparkling. The light filtered through his curls, pink against blue like cotton candy. Leigh was a true entertainer, eyes connecting with the crowd. He held the microphone tightly in his hands, cord wrapped around his forearm. A smirk was never far from his lips, as if he couldn’t keep it away.

She’s the most beautiful

but he’s the most confusing

She’s holding fast to my heart

And he’s holding fast to my shirt

Inamorata

You’re gonna kill me now

You’re after me

But so is he

And what do I believe?

Inamorata

As he sang, his eyes never left yours.

She’s the death of me

but he’s got my life in his hands

She’s breaking my heart

And he’s breaking my jaw

Where had this song come from? Leigh seemed like he could fight someone, but what for? Was there an ex girlfriend? It wasn’t your business to wonder this, and it didn’t even matter. You didn’t like him that way, you just wanted to be his friend. Right?

You shook your head and went back to listening.

What can I do, baby?

He’s after you

but he’s after me.

He’ll break my arm

and break your heart.

I love you

but he loves you more.

You hate him

but he hates me more.

What had happened to Leigh? Who hurt him like that? What happened?

Questions swirled in your head as Leigh finished the set, thanking them for having his band again. He slid in across from you, glancing at the untouched beer and waving a hand in front of your face. “Earth to (y/n).”

You blinked once, twice, in succession. “Huh?”

“You seem out-of-it.”

“Just distracted. I’m good.”

He didn’t seem to believe you, but didn’t press. “Did you like show?”

“Yeah. It was really good.” Leigh didn’t respond to that, but you continued, “Where are Arin and Suzy?”

He made a vague shrug, as if that answered your question. When he caught your eyes and noticed that you still didn’t catch on, he sighed a little, “They’re out back....” He trailed off. “Teaching each other French.”

You hummed in understanding, now realizing what he meant.

Leigh opened his mouth, eyes holding a question, but then he closed his mouth, deciding against it. You tilted your head curiously, and he started, “Do you...uh--”

Ring ring.

No, not now.

Ring ring.

“Sorry, it’s my parents,” you said, voice deadpan. You wanted nothing more than to hear what Leigh was proposing. Leigh’s face turned to understanding as he ran a hand through his hair, other hand waving you a ‘go-ahead,’ as approval.

Your mother was telling you she was angry. Apparently you’d stayed later than curfew. That didn’t seem to matter in the interest of staying with Leigh and his friends. She told you to come home immediately. You wanted to say no, but the larger part of you forced you to slide out and stand, “I need to go.”

“Off so soon, baby girl?”

“My mom’s really pissed.”

“Oh.”

“I’m sorry.” You walked out before he could say more, before he could convince you to stay. You slid into your car, drove home, bore the yelling of your mother. Then you went to bed. Before you did, you reached for your phone and typed a message to Leigh.

< What were you going to say earlier? Before my mom called?

You didn’t receive a reply.

Chapter Text

Literature class the next day could not have come fast enough. You practically threw your satchel down before sliding into your seat, pulling your books out and staring holes into the seat in front of you, searching for a mass of turquoise hair. You wanted nothing more than to ask Leigh what he was going to say, why he hadn’t responded to your text message. The girl who typically sat next to you took Leigh’s seat, and you shook your gaze away from it.

Where was he?

Probably late, you convinced yourself.

Twenty minutes later, Leigh still hadn’t come to class.

At the bell, you let out a sigh, staring down at your notes. You hadn’t noticed in the margins you’d written some of Leigh’s lyrics in your distracted state, and you shook your head, taking a mental note to rewrite them later. You stood, packed your things, and left the classroom. Literature had been your last class for that day, so you decided to go to the hang-out spot Leigh had invited you to the day before.

As you walked, you found yourself thinking. You’d known Leigh for barely twenty-four hours, and already you were interested in everything about him. You wanted to know more, wanted to know why he was the way he was, why he put up the punk facade, why he wasn’t ever straight with anyone. You wanted to know his secrets.

But even more so, you wanted to share those same secrets with him. You wanted to tell him why you didn’t break rules, wanted to tell him why you were interested in him, why you acted the way you did. You wanted to give him the insider scoop to yourself, but he wasn’t there to ask or to tell.

You found the moldy old couch under the bleachers easily. Arin was on the couch sharing a blunt with Suzy, and Kevin, Ross, and Barry (whose names you’d learned from Leigh over text) were leaning against the wall, drinking and laughing.

“Where’s Leigh?” you asked the group as a whole.

Barry and Kevin shrugged. Ross took a long swig of beer and laughed again, “Dunno.”

Suzy coughed, clearly not ready to let out the breath she’d had of the drug as she answered, “He wasn’t at school today.”

Arin gave you the straight answer you wanted, but under the convolution of drugs, “He said he was havin’...trouble with his landlord...or...somethin’. Money, I think?”

“Where does he live?” you asked, no hesitation trailing in your voice.

Barry spoke up now, “Uhhh the complex off Thirty-second street?” His voice lilted in a question, trying to discern if you knew where it was.

You didn’t know, but you didn’t need their help. You just wanted to help Leigh. You nodded, “Yeah, I know. Thanks, guys.” With a wave, you turned to leave.

Arin interrupted your departure, “Y’wanna take a hit, (y/n)?”

A part of you screamed: do it. But you shook your head, “Nah, I gotta drive.”

He didn’t force it on you, which you were grateful for as you walked away towards your car. Wherever and whatever Leigh was doing, you hoped he was okay.

~*~

The drive to the complex was ten over and blurred. You were blasting Leigh’s voice in your car, hoping it would focus you on what mattered. You’d remembered him telling you to listen to Secondhand High.

I’m breathing it in

breathing it out

But what does it matter?

It’s no fucking use.

Nothing really matters,

does it?

In the end, we’re all dead

it’s all over, everything ends.

I can’t find this second hand high

to be anything worth it

Except forgetting

all this shit

You got to Thirty-second and turned, looking for the complex. It was easy enough. Rosedale Apartments.

You pulled into the lot, parked, and got out. The first thing that met you was an unsettled feeling. This was in the bad part of town, but not the worst part. The fringes, you decided. As you walked, broken glass crunched under your shoes. There were splotches of dark stains on the sidewalk and asphalt, and that furthered the twisting of your stomach.

You promised to yourself that you’d help Leigh, and you couldn’t back out now.

You kept walking, looking at all the red doors, worn down, paint scratched, numbers peeling gold. Number 35 was kicked open, and you decided it was better to ignore it. You were too scared to look there as your first course of action.

You searched behind the building, where you found several boxes and a dumpster. In the boxes were clearly someone’s things. Likely the tenant of 35. You looked at the sides: game shit, clothes, other shit.

The ‘games shit’ box had a few older consoles, a couple Zelda games, and some controllers.

The ‘clothes’ box had just what it described. T-shirts, flannels, some button down shirts.

The ‘other shit’ box contained a bong, some old CDs, a couple books, and a few old ratty pairs of shoes.

The tenant of 35 had some odd belongings to their name, that was sure.

You picked up the games box in your arms, and carried it around the building again. You called into the room, “Hello? Someone took your stuff and put it out by the dumpster. I don’t know if you meant for it to go there?”

There was no reply, and you walked into the door, feeling the crunch of more glass and smelling a musty smell. “Hello?” you called again.

Feeling fear as you didn’t know what to do, you set the box down quickly and grabbed one of the books. A blunt object was better than nothing, you reminded yourself. “Hello?” a third time.

No reply.

You tried calling for who you were looking for, “Leigh?”

You heard a deeper voice, “Gotcha!”

And then a sickly sweet smell hit your nose, filled your lungs, made you cough and gag.

“Shhh, shhh baby girl, shhh.”

You were screaming but the smell was stuck in your throat, your lungs, your eyes watered.

“Baby girl, stop struggling.”

Leigh wouldn’t do this to you, would he?

You hoped not.

“You’re a tough one. Girls like you are usually out by now.”

You struggled hard but you were getting dizzy.

“Thaaat’s it, baby girl. You’re getting sleepy. Don’t worry, baby. It’s all gonna be okay.”

A groan from whomever was holding you, and you both were falling, falling, falling. You felt someone grab for you, and another push this person out of the way.

Warm hands took you closer, and you heard a growling, sinister voice, “Don’t even think about it.”

And then everything faded away, straight to black.

Chapter Text

When you came to, you were still unsettled. That was the first sensation you had. The second sensation was feeling something warm, solid, heavy against your skin. Reaching up it felt like leather. Third, you heard singing. It sounded like Leigh, but you weren’t sure. Never sure now.

What if this could

just be memories?

What if you could

just let this go?

What if this was

just in the past?

What if we were

safe from it again?

But baby, we can’t,

we’re not able.

And I’m running myself

sick with all of these

‘What if?’s

and god, I wish,

we were able.

It had to be Leigh. That song was one from his band. You knew that. But why couldn’t you get that smell out of your head? Sickly sweet, like expired Halloween candy. It wouldn’t leave you.

And then you were coughing, coughing, coughing. You were dizzy, so dizzy, brain whirling and everything heavy in your head. Hurried steps, and then Leigh, you knew it was him, with the mop of blue hair, “You okay?”

“How could I possibly be okay? What did you do to me? Where are we? Why would you betray my trust like that?” Your voice raised the more upset, the more hurt you got.

“Do to--I didn’t do anything to you, baby girl!” Leigh said, trying to walk closer.

You cowered, but your voice was mocking as you moved backward more. You felt his jacket fall into your lap--so that had been what was covering you before--and that fueled the fire. Your voice was mocking his now, “‘Baby girl, baby girl, baby girl!’” He looked confused. You continued, “I trusted you, and you tricked and drugged me! I thought you were better than that!”

He had his mouth agape, and could only repeat himself, “I didn’t do anything to you.”

“Then why was I being choked? Why did I pass out? Why can’t I get this,” your mind paused for a brief second, deciding if you would swear aloud, something you’d rarely done. Yes, you would, “this--fucking gross smell out of my lungs and stop coughing? What did you do?!”

“Did it smell like old candy?” Leigh asked, not answering your question.

“Yes, what does that have to do with it?”

“I’m gonna fuckin’ kill him,” Leigh said, turning on his heel into the room he’d come from. You got up to follow, and saw a person on the couch. Your heart fell to your feet when you saw who it was.

Leigh was angrily spitting words at the man, “You fucking drugged her with chloroform! That shit could’ve killed her!”

The guy was unconscious, clearly, but that didn’t stop you from feeling even more uncomfortable. You knew this man. You knew him very well, and you wanted nothing to do with him.

Leigh sensed the fear as he turned, and walked a few steps closer. You knew he hadn’t done this to you. You fell easily into his arms, and he rocked you slowly. Where had this soft side come from? Why wasn’t he pushing you away?

You both sat on the floor in a silent mutual agreement. He had the sense to take you as far away from the guy as he could without leaving. “What’s up, baby girl?”

“I...I...fuck.” You shook your head, not knowing how to get out what you were saying.

“Do you- know him?” His words were stop short staccato.

You just helplessly nodded.

“Oh, god.” Leigh’s eyes looked sad and angry all at once, and you knew exactly why.

Your voice was barely above a whisper, “He’s why I follow rules.” When Leigh looked at you curiously, you sighed out a breath, blinking to keep tears at bay. “He was...a kid kind of like you.”

“What do you mean?”

“He smoked and did drugs and he drank all the time.” You could see the objection on Leigh’s face, but ignored it, “And he skipped classes, didn’t really care about his education. He just... didn’t care. And he reeled me in.”

“You... don’t think I’m doing that to you, do you?” Leigh knew this was a bad question, you could read it on his face, but he couldn’t stop from blurting it out in his fear. Fear? Fear wasn’t an emotion that you’d ever seen on Leigh’s face.

But you couldn’t bring yourself to address his question right now. Not now.

He seemed to know that, and shake his head, a nervous laugh forced from his throat, running a hand through his hair. This was a nervous tic of his, you’d noticed.

So he asked something else, “What did he do to you?”

“He just... convinced me that kind of crowd was right for me. He wasn’t part of the punk kids, not like- not like you. More like he was one of the drop-out kids who wouldn’t ever go to class. You do go to classes...,” you trailed, “...sometimes. You care a little. Right?”

He nodded.

“He...ruined my life.”

“What’s the prick’s name?” Leigh said, voice dark, heavy, thick. The name he used made you jump.

“Caleb,” you said, sighing out a breath that you hadn’t realized you were holding.

“How does he know you, (y/n)?”

“He... used to go to Bridgewater. He got kicked out because of his grades and behavior. But to everyone else, he dropped out to pursue a music career.”

“Music? Was he any good?” Leigh’s brain did a complete 360 at the mention.

“He was--that has nothing to do with it. Leigh, that doesn’t matter.”

Another nervous laugh. Another run through of his hair. Nervous tic, you conceded. “S-sorry. Sometime’s I’m a little- scatterbrained.” You just nodded, unsure what to react to that with. “I... didn’t know he did that to you. He must’ve broke into my apartment.”

“How would he know where your apartment was? Who you were?” Leigh shrugged. “How would he know that you called me ‘baby girl’ like that?”

“That could’ve been a lucky guess. I don’t know about the other two though.”

You forced out another shaky breath, and he said, “Maybe this’ll cheer you up. I have another show tonight, if you want to go?”

It was Friday. Your parents would be a little more lenient. Probably.

“Okay. B-but, what’re we going to do about...,” you couldn’t bring yourself to say his name again.

Leigh understood, though, always understood it seemed, “Don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of it. Can you get home okay?”

“I think so.”

“Text me when you get home, and don’t stop if you can help it. Go straight there.” Leigh’s voice was protective now, and you wondered why all these sides of him were coming out at once, if they’d show themselves again later.

You nodded again. He pulled you up by your hands and walked you to your car, hand never leaving the small of your back. He watched you drive away, you saw in your rearview mirror. And you did exactly what you were told. Pulling into your driveway, then walking in the house. You informed your parents that you were going to be going out that night, and that you’d be able to drive yourself home.

Your parents were hesitant, but they did not say no.

You texted Leigh when you got to your room.

< I’m home, safe and sound. Where’s your show tonight, and what time?

He responded quickly.

> Good, I’m glad you’re safe. Show is @ Blue Waters at 9.

Chapter Text

You arrived at Blue Waters at 8:50. You waited in your car for five minutes, doors locked tight, and fingers wrapped tightly around a can of pepper spray in your purse. You felt a fear that hadn’t been around since- but that was in the past, you reminded yourself.

You got out, walked quickly through the blue door of the building. Each step was measured, careful, and even against the blue brick, blue walls, blue lights, you saw Leigh’s mop of blue hair. You were safe. It was okay. You let go of the can in your purse, and he smiled at you, “Hey, baby girl. I’m glad you made it.”

“Hi, Leigh.” You sat uneasily next to him at the bar.

“You look sick,” Leigh said, and at first you wondered if he meant it as slang.

But he was actually concerned for your well-being.

“Just...not feeling good, I guess.”

“You catch a cold or something?”

“Nah. Just...y’know. Today’s been a lot to take.”

“I get that.” Leigh seemed to understand, and that bled into the brown of his eyes. His attention was diverted from the glass of beer in front of him and from you as the bartender began talking to him about the set he was doing.

You let yourself fade into the background, let yourself get lost in your thoughts, let yourself pretend you were at home and away from everything.

Why is Caleb following me now? What is he doing here? How does he know Leigh? He’s going to hurt me, hurt Leigh, hurt his friends. I can’t let him do that. Not to him. Leigh didn’t ask for it, never did, and it’s so unfair of me to bring this--

“Right, baby girl?”

You turned, jerked from your thoughts, “Huh?”

“I said that you came out to see us tonight.”

“Oh! Yeah, I did. I love their music,” you admitted, gushing.

Leigh had a foxlike grin on his face as he spoke, eyes dark, “I think it’s ‘cause you love me, (y/n).”

You flushed, and hoped the blue lights would wash it out, “Noooope. It’s the music, Leigh.”

Suzy came up between you two, stopping your conversation, “Dan, we’ve got to start setting up.”

He offered you a two fingered salute as his goodbye before following Suzy away. You went back to your thoughts.

And why does everyone else call Leigh ‘Dan’? Why doesn’t he correct me? Am I calling him wrong? Is it a nickname? Was Leigh his middle name? Where--

Again, your thoughts were interrupted by Leigh, but instead it was his introduction. “Hey you guys! We’re Dudes and Dolls. This one is a new song. We’ve been working on it for the past few days, so I’m sorry if it’s a little rough. It’s pretty fuckin’ good, if I do say so myself. It’s dedicated to someone, but I think they’ll know when they hear the title who it’s for. Enjoy.” There was applause, and then Leigh remembered and continued, “Oh- yeah. It’s called Baby Girl.”

The keyboardist was playing in a few chords, then Suzy came in on the bass, hair in her face as she felt it out. Arin began strumming the guitar part, harmonizing easily with Suzy’s mellow bass. Then Leigh’s voice fluttered in with the cymbals of the drum.

Oh, baby girl

You’re driving me crazy

Baby girl,

Why do you do this to me?

Pink and blue skies

And the spark in your eyes

You’re the reason

that I’ve felt something

in so long.

Baby girl, baby girl

I’m calling out.

Baby girl,

This is my S.O.S.

Was this really how Leigh felt? Or was it for the sake of the song? He caught your eyes as he went to the bridge.

Baby girl, I want you

But not like that

It’s not a fling

It’s not for a quick fuck

I want you so badly

I’d do anything

just to hold your hand

This couldn’t be happening. You busied yourself with organizing your purse, counting the money in your wallet four times, rearranging your coin purse, finding a place for all the cards in your wallet, anything to distract you from the set. You couldn’t look Leigh in the eyes, didn’t want to.

You didn’t want to admit you were interested in him. You didn’t want to admit you were intrigued by him to the point that you wanted nothing more than to just listen to him talk about himself. You didn’t want to admit anything. You’d plead the damn fifth the whole way out of the building, you decided, as you stood up. Blue, blue, blue everywhere as you pushed open the door of the place, walking towards your car under the blue, blue, blue sky. You got in, locked the doors, and rested your head against your windshield, sighing out a groan and closing your eyes.

This was making your head hurt. You had aspirin in your purse, didn’t you?

You reached into your bag and pulled out the little bottle with the blue, blue, blue lid, and the blue, blue, blue label with the little blue, blue, blue pills. You popped two in your mouth and swallowed them with a swig of the too-warm water bottle in your car.

Why did it happen?

Why did he write a song about you?

And why the hell did it have to be about love?

Chapter Text

Your eyes were closed and you could still feel the blue, still feel the blue in your veins and you wanted to tear your own skin away to get it out of you. Fuck the blue, fuck the blue. Fuck it. You didn’t want to think about the color blue anymore. You never ever wanted to think about blue. You opened your eyes long enough to see a blue slip of paper in your cupholder, and you snatched it and tore it to bits.

The tiny pieces of paper, confetti celebrating your pity party. Your blue pity party.

The night had become deep navy blue now, stars twinkling and blinking in the sky, the moon shedding light against the hood of your car, your skin, your fingers, that damn blue confetti.

The stars blinked, mocking you with shapes of hearts and your eyes connected constellations, trying to find connections to anything to keep your mind away from him, away from the blue, blue, blue. You found Gemini, Aquarius, Orion, Ursa Major, Ursa Minor...

You found your star sign.

You found Pisces.

You sighed out a breath again.

It felt like you were in your car for hours, and you leaned back, reclining your seat a bit and just closing your eyes. You hear your phone go off, and ignore it. You know it’s your mother, your father, and probably Leigh too. You know you don’t want to hear it, don’t want to face it.

Things felt so simple before you became friends with Leigh. Things made sense when you just saw Leigh as the troublemaker around school. But then he had to decide to actually show up to Literature class, had to talk to you at lunch, had to keep you intrigued. In just a week, he’d turned your life on its head.

And you hated him for it.

But you loved him for it.

Why did it matter? Why did anything matter? Why didn’t you just pull away from the blue, blue, blue and just escape it? Stop thinking about his cotton-candy hair and let it go? Stop wondering what it would be like to kiss his lips, pink and pretty and contrasting with his hair and leave? Stop thinking about his words, his voice, his eyes-

Damn him.

Damn him and his beautiful smiles and words that make your heart melt.

Damn him to hell.

~*~*~

You were jarred from your half-sleep by a tap on your windshield.

Everything in your dreams was in shades of blue.

You looked out and there was that damn cotton-candy hair. Those pleading brown eyes. You wished your windows were more tinted, that the earth would suck you up and you wouldn’t have to look at him anymore, him and his mouth curved into a frown. He was frowning down at you through the window and you could do nothing else but stare at him.

He pointed downwards with his finger and you just kept staring. Then, Leigh sighed and made a cranking gesture with his hand.

Roll down your window.

But why should you?

He kept doing it. Roll down your window.

You didn’t want to deal with it, deal with him, deal with all the stupid shit that he was causing you. You popped your seat back into place as Leigh continued to pantomime that he wanted to talk to you. You started the ignition as Leigh was reaching to tap the glass of your window again. You were reversing and he was chasing after you, hands grabbing at the handles of your doors, the bumper, anything. You drove too fast for him to keep up, and you left him and his cotton-candy hair, his stupid, stupid, stupid, blue, blue, blue hair in the dust.

~*~*~

You laid in bed, everything visibly blue in a pile in the bottom of your closet. Blue, blue, blue.

Leigh texted you three times since you drove away.

> Are you okay?

> I’m sorry if I did something

> What’s going on?

You couldn’t do anything but respond with the word that had been fluttering in your head since you left that damn place.

< Blue, blue, blue.

He didn’t respond past that, and you took that as a chance to shove your phone under your pillows and ignore responsibilities. Your head hurt far too much, especially considering your parents had yelled at you for being out so late. But it didn’t matter, it didn’t matter.

Blue, blue, blue.

Your phone buzzed under your head and you wanted to ignore it, but you looked to see that Leigh was calling you. You finger hovered over the red ‘decline’ button far too long, and the call went to voicemail. You let it.

Eight minutes later you got a notification. New voicemail from Leigh Avidan.

You tapped it and then put your phone to your ear.

He sounded tired.

“Hey...uh, baby girl. I’m sorry if I did something to uh- upset you. I didn’t mean to, if I did. I-uh, I’m grateful you came to our show tonight...”

When had Leigh been so stuttery with his words?

“...Suzy said that she wanted to invite you to our hang out tonight--” and he was cut off by Arin whooping in the background and calling your name, Suzy admonishing him, and Leigh forcing a chuckle. “But yeah uh- I got really...uh- inspired? Yeah, inspired by the message you sent me, so I convinced Ar to noodle a bit on the guitar so I could sing it for you. I was hoping you’d- y’know, pick up, but voicemail is okay too. Enjoy it, baby girl.”

The name left a sour taste in your mouth for the first time.

Arin played a bit, a short intro, and Leigh’s voice flowed from the speaker to your ear.

Blue, blue, blue

Baby, if you only knew knew knew

The trouble I’m going through, through, through,

just because of you, you, you

Everything’s so blue, blue, blue

Without you, you, you

And I don’t know what to do, do, do

Because it’s blue, blue, blue

God damn, I don’t have a clue

When I’m feeling blue

Because you’d brighten my day, ooh,

and God damn, I love you.

You heard the squeak of a missed string, and Arin swearing. Leigh had moved to the next line but stopped abruptly at Arin’s mistake. You could practically see the shrug that Leigh gave as he said, “Well- I guess that’s it then. I mean, there was another little bit but it’s not done clearly. Maybe it’ll go on our next album with Baby Girl. You’re quite the- uh, muse, (y/n). I’ll talk to you later. Have a good night.”

And then the voicemail ended with a beep. Ended into silence. You stared at your screen, dimming with inactivity before shutting off completely with a lock. The phone ended up on your bedside table, and your face was buried into your pillow.

Maybe you could just sleep this off, forget about Leigh and pretend you don’t know him until he goes away.

That lasted an hour before you found your earbuds and were playing that voicemail over and over again.

Blue, blue, blue.

Chapter Text

You woke up the next morning, yawning and stretching, but grateful it was Saturday. Saturday meant you didn’t have to see Leigh, or try to put him out of your mind. It meant that you could forget about him for the time being.

But that was compromised when you’d grabbed your phone and found two voicemails and five texts.

> I hope you liked the song

> Sleep well baby girl

> arin jsut fell off the couch bcause he was drnk

> it was really fnyyn

> im sso drunks

The voicemail was equally as drunk.

“Heeeey baby girl. How’re youuuu?” his voice slurred and his voice was giggly even as he wasn’t laughing. “I miiiissssshhh you. I wanna seeeee yooou.” Dial tone. The robot voice asked you to hit one if you wanted to hear the next voicemail. You tapped one.

“Baaaaby girl. You shhhhould’ve comeee. Where’re yoooou? I wanna kissssshhh you.”

Your eyes widened. He wanted to kiss you?

No. He was drunk. It didn’t matter. He was drunk, drunk, drunk. He was lying.

You were blue, blue, blue still.

You listened to his first voice mail, the not drunk voicemail again.

~*~*~

Leigh hadn’t tried to call you the rest of the day. You spent your day periodically doing homework, sleeping, and just trying to relax, get it out of your head, get him out of your head. At the end of the day, you realized you’d hardly left your bed the whole day. You got up for meals, but then you’d go right back to bed, right back to the pillows and blankets of warmth and the safety of hiding away from responsibilities.

At nine, Leigh called you.

You wanted to decline, your finger nearly hit that red ‘decline’ button, but you tapped the green ‘accept’ right as the call almost expired. His voice filled your room as you tapped speaker in the middle of him talking.

“...I don’t know what I said to you while I was drunk. I hope it wasn’t anything embarrassing. I’ve got a bitch of a headache right now, and I just wanted to call and check in on you, make sure you’re doing okay. You seemed really upset last night and I don’t know what I did wrong.”

You felt a pang of guilt as he blamed himself, because it was largely your fault that you felt the way you did.

“I just don’t want to ruin your life.”

That’s what Caleb said too, and look where that got you.

“You there?”

You couldn’t bring yourself to speak, you felt sick and sad, heart thrumming against your chest in a painful pitter-patter that you just wanted to stop.

“It’s- it’s okay if you don’t want to respond. I get that. I just wanted to invite you out. I was going to go get a new tattoo today and I thought it might be cool for you to tag along. Maybe you could help me with the colors or something. I- dunno, maybe. Just text me or whatever if you want to go.”

You did want to go, even though you hated Leigh for mixing your feelings up. You wanted your voice to work and talk and tell him you want to go, but your throat felt full of wool.

“I’ll talk to you later, hopefully?”

You hoped so.

“Bye, baby girl.”

The call ended.

You’d never grabbed your phone so quickly.

< I want to go.

> I’ll pick you up at 7?

< Can’t wait.

~*~*~

At 6:00, you were pacing your room. What did people wear to a tattoo shop? Was it a date? What to do, what to do, what to do. You reached into the back of your closet and found a pair of dark jeans, then grabbed an old t-shirt. Your father gave it to you for one of your birthdays, saying it was special and that the band on the front was one that he’d enjoyed when he was younger.

You pulled your dad’s leather jacket from the hook on the wall at 6:45, and waited for Leigh to honk the horn to let you know he was here. At 7:03, you heard him honk, and you yelled goodbye to your parents, pulling on the jacket and hurrying to his beat-up green Impala.

He looked you over, “It’s weird to see you not in school uniform, baby girl.”

You shrugged.

His eyes got wider and he grinned, “Dude, your shirt has Rush on it! I love them.”

“My dad really likes them.”

“You heard any of their music before?”

“A couple songs.”

“Which ones?” Leigh was excited. Rush was probably his favorite band, judging by the look on his face.

“Uhh, Xanadu... The Trees... Tom Sawyer...,” you trailed off. You had trouble thinking of more titles.

“Tom Sawyer is one of my favorites!” he said excitedly. “Although A Farewell to Kings is my favorite album of theirs.”

“Ah,” you said. You weren’t that familiar with their music, but you knew the gist.

“I’m actually getting some lyrics from Rush today.”

“In your tattoo?” you asked, dumbly.

He nodded. “Mhm. I have some other stuff on my side, and I’m gonna get a little scroll of paper with it with some lyrics from Tom Sawyer.”

“Which lyrics?”

“Haven’t picked yet. Maybe you could help me with that, baby girl.”

You thought for a moment. “How about ‘Modern day warrior, mean mean stride’?”

“I like that!”

“Don’t pick it just because of me,” you said quietly. It was going to be on his body forever, after all.

“No, no, I really do like that. Thank you for the idea.”

The rest of the car ride felt forced, clouded by your anxiety that he was getting something tattooed that you’d said. It was bad, he was going to regret getting it, you knew that. He was going to hate it. You knew that.

He parked, and said, “We’re here.”

You looked at the window. A fluorescent neon sign wrote out ‘Avis Tattoo and Piercing Shop’ in a curlicue font. The store hours were listed underneath, handwritten on a sheet of blue construction paper, illegible in chicken scratch.

You followed him inside silently. He greeted the owner with a smile, and the owner smiled back, “What do you want today, Danny-boy?”

Again with Danny, not Leigh.

“Gonna get some more stuff on my ribs.”

“You always complain when I do that, though!” the girl joked. You made note of her pink hair as Leigh laughed. “Who’s the lady?”

“Oh, this is (y/n). She’s a friend of mine.”

A friend of mine.

“Oh?”

“Not like that.”

You spoke up, “Leigh, do you want me to just wait out here while you get it?”

Leigh was about to answer but then the girl spoke with a loud laugh, “Pfft. She calls you Leigh? I haven’t heard that since the teachers in school used to call you that the first day of school!”

You felt bad for coming at all, and you felt bad for calling him the only name you’d had for him. “I’ll go...wait in the car.” You thought bitterly of the girl’s pink hair against Leigh’s blue, together they made cotton candy fluff.

You were starting to leave, and she was going back into a separate room, probably waiting for Leigh--Dan--whoever to go with her and draft the design for the tattoo. But Leigh took your hand and smiled at you, brown eyes full of sincerity. “I invited you and I want you to go back with me. I want you to be there with me when I get it done, since you were a part of the design.”

You could do little more than nod slowly as he pulled you into the side room by your interlocked hands. You watched Leigh and the girl talk about how the scroll was going to go, how the lettering looked, checked spelling four times over, and trying to figure out the style. You caught him calling her by name. Holly.

Leigh held it up to you, “Do you like it, baby girl?”

“Yeah...yeah! I think it looks good.”

“Good enough for me to get on my body for the rest of my life?” he asked. You felt a pang of guilt, and he seemed to notice that. “I’m joking. It’s okay. I want to get it done, I promise.” You let him go give the design back to Holly, and then reach to pull his shirt off. You looked away, embarrassed, and then turned back to see Leigh laying on the chair, arm reached up out of the way. You looked at his side, a rose curling around the base of his ribcage and a unicorn tracing around the front of his chest to reach his neck.

Holly carefully transferred the design onto Leigh’s side, then began prepping the tattoo needle. You just bit your lip. You’d never had experience with tattoos before, and didn’t know the first thing about how to be there for someone while they were being tattooed.

Leigh spoke up, startling you from your thoughts, “Okay, baby girl. These ones always hurt like a bitch, so forgive me if I grab your hand for moral support.”

It wasn’t the first time he’d grabbed your hand that day, you reminded him internally, but nodded. Holly leaned forward and started her work. Leigh bit his lip hard, closing his eyes and breathing out slowly. She was diligent and careful, and you were mesmerized by her work, the precision and practice to her strokes. You took a quick survey of her arms, looking at the character tattooed on the top of her arm by her shoulder, the birds littered around it, patterns, designs, and colors bright. She had a thing for birds, you guessed--

Leigh snatched for your hand, a groan coming out of his lips. You spoke reassuring words you didn’t think would help, “It’s almost over.” You couldn’t guarantee that. You didn’t even know that.
He looked at you, brown eyes lidded under the pain of the tattoo, “Y’think so?”

You shrugged, choosing honesty.

“I dunno. Holls would know better than we would.”

Holly spoke up, pulling the needle away from his ribs, “I’m thinking I’m doing just the lining today and we can do the color another time?”

“Okay,” Leigh agreed. “I’ve gotta get (y/n) home anyways.”

The fact that Leigh was thinking about you made your heart flutter a bit.

“I’ve just got a little bit left, you’ll be done in ten if you don’t cry like a baby.”

Leigh put on a brave face with a giggle and let Holly continue her work. His fingers stayed wrapped around yours, tightly squeezing. Your fingers were starting to turn red as blood got caught in the tips like a string tied around it, but you didn’t complain. You just wanted to let Leigh feel the comfort of it.

After that, Leigh paid for his tattoo and thanked Holly. She smiled and told him when his next appointment was for the touchups and for color. Then, you both turned and left. Sliding into the car, Leigh started the ignition and sighed out, “What’s going on?”

He seemed to know that your mind was running even when you didn’t.

“I don’t know,” you said softly.

“You seem stressed.”

“I’m just worried about...Caleb...and us.”

“Why us?” he asked. He knew the Caleb situation.

“I don’t--” you weren’t sure how to bring it up. “I don’t know how you feel about me...how I-I feel about you.”

He sighed. “I feel...” he trailed, then changed his train of thought, “I think you should probably sort your feelings out first, baby girl.”

You wanted him to say what he felt, to help you decide what you were feeling. You didn’t know. “Can you take me to the library?”

“The one on Crescent?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“Please don’t ask.”

“Okay,” he said, voice soft as he pulled the car onto Crescent Street. You were grateful he let it go, though you knew he’d try to get it out of you later over text. He parked in a spot, “You gonna be okay? Do you want me to walk you in?”

“I....I’ll be fine.” You insisted, even though you wanted him to stay.

He nodded again, “Call me if you need me, okay baby girl?”

You nodded in response, mirroring his nod, “Yeah, thank you.” You got out of the car, and shut the door in the middle of his goodbye. Leigh pulled away and drove off. You went inside, and went to the place you always went to when you needed to think.

Your phone rang and you picked it up, hearing Leigh speak, “Please be careful.”

You rolled your eyes, “Okay, older brother. Relax.”

He sighed, then said, “Do you have a sec?”

You nodded, even though he couldn’t see, “Yeah, why?” You leaned against one of the shelves, talking quietly to not disturb the other patrons. You were about halfway to your destination.

“I...wanted to run some music by you?”

“Why does it matter what I think?”

“I just...you’re important to the band and you’re a muse to me, (y/n). That’s why.”

“Make it quick, please,” you pleaded, sighing out and leaning more comfortably.

His voice rang in your ears.

Everything is happening now

and I’m chasing after you

like coyote and bird

and I can’t reach you, no, baby

After every failed plan,

I’m just trying to catch up

At all.

His voice stopped just as quick as it started, “I..uh. I was unsure what to call it.”

“You could always call it something irrelevant?” you asked, urging him off the phone.

“Yeah, yeah...maybe. I could--shit! I’ve got an idea.” Leigh started singing again.

My head’s whirling faster

than a cartoon

and I’m sick and tired

of these looney, looney tunes.

You smiled a little at his clever reference. “Going to call it Looney Tunes?”

“Yeah. Gotta tweak some words and add some shit. I’m sure Ar will have some good ideas.”

“Yeah. Good luck on that,”

“Th--” he started, but you cut off his response with the end call key. You needed to go and think, think about Inamorata, Baby Girl, Blue Blue Blue, and now this stupid Looney Tunes number. You needed to stop giving him ideas. But first, you had to sit, before you got dizzy and fell from all this thought.

You walked towards the plush leather chair of the history section, where no one ever sat. It was usually deserted.

Usually.

Chapter Text

But not today.

He was there. Caleb was there. You forced out a breath and tried to turn around, hoped Leigh was still close enough to pick you up or maybe you could get a head start to run home and--

“Hey, little one.”

Little one. He still called you that...after all he did to you?

You ignored him and tried to keep walking. His hand went to your wrist, “Don’t ignore me.”

You wanted to. You kept your mouth shut.

“Speak up, I wanna hear your voice. It’s been a long time, hasn’t it?” You nodded, and his fingers pressed harder into your wrist. “I said, hasn’t it?”

You squeaked a forced, “Yes.”

“That’s what I thought. It’s been a long, long time. I’ve missed you. Have you missed me?”

You knew you couldn’t keep up your silent act, but if you were honest, you hadn’t missed him. Saying no would only make him angry. “Yeah.”

His fingers loosened and you could practically feel that toxic smile tickling at your neck, bouncing off of you like steel dragging on concrete.

You spoke, forcing your voice once more, “I need to go make a call.”

“What for? You were just on the phone five minutes ago.”

“Different person,” you said, lying. “I need to call my mom.”

“Why?”

“I asked my dad to take me to the wrong library.” Your voice was stilted but you hoped he wouldn’t notice. He let you go, and said, “Don’t be long, little one.”

“Okay,” you said, voice soft as you walked a little closer to the exit, farther away from Caleb. You dialed Leigh’s number.

He picked up quickly, “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

It was as if he knew.

“I need to talk fast,” you said with tension tangling your voice, “Caleb is here.”

“Oh fuck,” Leigh started, but you cut him off as you heard Caleb coming.

“What’s taking so long, little one?”

Leigh heard him and sighed out, “Is that him?”

You had to work with your lie now. “Yeah, can you come pick me up? I’m at the library on Crescent. You know the one?”

“Is he harassing you? I’ll punch him if he does.”

“No, that won’t be necessary. I can go another time. Just, please come pick me up?”

“Sure, I’ll come. We’re talking when I get you though.”

“Okay,” you said. “Love you, dad.”

Leigh sighed out a chuckle, “Bye, daughter.”

You hung up. Leigh would be here soon. He would save you from this situation that you knew was going to get ugly if it took too long. Caleb laughed, voice dark.

“I still find it funny that you tell your parents you love them before you hang up.”

“Why?” You knew why.

“Because you know I hate my parents. Bastards.”

You frowned but kept your opinion to yourself. It wasn’t their fault that Caleb was a deadbeat asshole who found more interest in drugs and harassing innocent girls.

You felt your phone vibrate and looked down, not opening the message. You saw it was from Leigh in the preview.

> At the light on Fairview. 2 mins at most. Be safe...

The message cut off. He probably wrote more than that, but you got the highlights. Be safe, you told yourself, he’s almost here.

“That your dad?”

“Yeah. He’s almost here.”

“It’s enough time,” Caleb said softly, almost to himself. Your eyebrow quirked in question, and he smirked. “You wanna go back to the history section? We could recreate old times.” His voice dipped low as an implication. You knew what he meant.

“No. My dad will be here soon and I don’t want to make him wait.”

“C’mon baby, it’ll take five minutes.”

“I don’t have five minutes. It’ll probably take two.”

“Then let’s take advantage of the two,” Caleb said, reaching a hand around your waist, snaking it slightly under your shirt. You frowned and pushed at his wrist, trying to get him to stop.

“Stop, Caleb.”

You felt your phone vibrate in your hands, but Caleb was unfazed by it as he kept reaching higher. You felt his breath on your neck, “C’mon baby. Don’t be so uptight.”

“Caleb.” Your voice was tilting in warning. “My dad is going to be here soon.”

You felt your phone ring in your hands, vibrating in a pattern that you focused on as he kept reaching up your shirt. You pressed the green answer button and slid it in your pocket, hoping it would pick up what was happening.

“Hey, baby girl. You aren’t so uptight with that other guy.”

Your heart jerked as he called you baby girl. Baby girl was the name Leigh used for you, and he was making it dirty, tarnishing it with his tone. “What other guy?” you played dumb.

“That blue-haired dick you were with the other day.”

“Other day?” playing dumb seemed to distract him from grabbing at your skin.

For a moment, at least.

He reached up more and found interest in squeezing your hips, fingertips digging into your skin as he answered, “Earlier. You went with him to Avis.”

He’d been following you.

And you were very grateful that Leigh had realized to stay quiet on the phone.

You heard the front door slam, but Caleb paid no mind to it as he kept squeezing. “I saw you with him. Are you sweet for him?”

You didn’t know, honestly. That’s why you were going to go think in the library. And then this happened.

Caleb’s nails dug deep into your skin now, and you could feel the crescent-moon shapes stinging into your flesh as he talked closer to your ear. His voice was dark, “Are you sweet for him, little one?”

His voice sent chills up your spine, and you didn’t know how to answer.

Luckily, someone else was able to answer for you.

With a grab, you were pulled against someone’s chest, and you saw a cloud of turquoise hair in front of you, snapping at Caleb. You looked up to see Arin holding an arm around your shoulder, keeping you away.

You tuned out Leigh, now. You didn’t want to hear what he was saying to Caleb now.

Arin spoke up, “Are you okay, (y/n)?”

You shrugged, voice quiet, “It’s not the first time.”

Arin frowned, but didn’t say anything. You asked him, still quietly, if he could let you go, get his arm off of you. He listened immediately, dropping his arm to his side but still standing close. “You know that Dan’s going to grill you about this, right?”

“I really hope he doesn’t.”

You felt small. Memories and fears of your times with Caleb flooded in your head. The tension, the manipulation, the tears...

Arin saw you cry, and he asked if it was okay for him to hold you. You just halfheartedly agreed, crying into his shirt. He ran fingers through your hair, rubbing your back soothingly, “It’s okay, (y/n). I’m here. Dan and I won’t let him get to you again.”

You weren’t sure how well that promise could be kept. Caleb was relentless. You knew that from the start.

Minutes passed, and then Caleb walked by, hissing at Arin, “You’re a bastard, kid.” Then, his voice more soft as he directed his attention to you, “I’ll see you very soon, little one.” You hoped not, goddamn you hoped you never saw Caleb again. You hoped you never had to see his face again, never had to see him haunting your dreams, skulking in the shadows of undiscovered alleys, lurking for a chance to grab your hips, your wrist, your neck. You hoped you never saw his disgusting, horrible face again. That monster.

You felt someone lean against your other side, putting you in a sandwich between Arin and them. Then, Leigh’s voice came quietly in your ears. Clearly he was ad-libbing, but it still was heartbreaking, soothing, beautiful.

Let it go

Forget about him

Focus on me

It’s okay to cry

Your heart is beating

Tears fill your eyes

But it’s okay

You’re okay

You felt a little better with his words. Maybe you were okay. Maybe you could just let it go, forget about Caleb. You felt Leigh’s arms around you, Arin’s arms around you, Leigh’s voice slowing from singing to humming in your ear, hair soft against your cheek.

Maybe it would be okay.

Chapter Text

Leigh pulled you to his car gently by your arm, nudging you into the passenger seat. Arin sat in the back, silent. Then, Leigh sat next to you in the driver’s side, and sighed out a breath.

Your voice was quiet, “Please lock the doors.”

Leigh didn’t question it, and locked them. You breathed out a thanks. “I’m sorry that happened to you, baby-girl.”

You didn’t know how to respond to that. Arin was muttering swears under his breath in the backseat, and you forced yourself to try to ignore them. You hadn’t meant to cause such a ruckus just because of some stupid guy you had past connections to. You didn’t want Caleb to ruin your friendship with Leigh.

His voice was quiet in the front seat as he kept driving, “I’m here for you.”

Arin spoke up, finally getting out of the loop of swears he was in before, “Do you want to come to my house? We can just play games or watch a movie or some shit.” You just nodded, and Leigh turned the wheel, switching his blinker from right to left and driving towards Arin’s house. “Can we pick up Suzy?” Arin asked.

Leigh nodded, driving past a neighborhood and turning to another one. Crestview Circle. He honked in front of a sunny yellow house and yelled, “Scuze! Get in, loser!”

Suzy came out the door laughing, curls bouncing as she walked, but her face fell upon seeing your stony face. She slid into the backseat of the car next to Arin, and her voice was jarringly quiet compared to Leigh’s yelling before, “What happened?” Her voice didn’t lilt into a question at the end, staying deadpan.

The two boys looked between each other, deciding how to say it.

You spoke up, “Some asshole. Don’t worry about it.”

She listened and nodded, patting your shoulder gently and letting it go. Leigh turned around and drove out of the neighborhood, flicking on his blinker and turning right. The car was dead silent, and you counted the trees rushing by as Leigh drove.

He pulled into a driveway, and you looked forward to see a house painted a pale peachy-pink. Arin slid out and Suzy walked around to meet him. They walked hand in hand inside, Arin mumbling some stuff to her as he leaned close against her hair. You looked at Leigh, still in the driver’s seat, and he shrugged, sliding out, walking around, and opening your door for you.

It felt odd of him to do that.

But you shrugged it off, slid out, shut the door behind you, and walked after him inside Arin’s house. Arin and Suzy had disappeared, but Leigh popped into the living room, offering a wave and a smile to the two adults in there. You guessed they was Arin’s parents.

“Hey, guys. I’ve brought a new friend with me.” He pulled you forward by taking your hand, and you offered a wave with your free one. “(y/n), this is Mr. and Mrs. Hanson.” You gave them a smile, and it felt wrong on your face, but you shook that feeling away, and he led you to a staircase down to the basement.

You heard Suzy and Arin giggling, and felt relieved knowing they hadn’t just left you.

“You’re going down, asshole!” Suzy yelled.

“Nu-uh! You’re going down!” Arin countered.

You made it to the bottom of the flight to see them both wrapped together in a big fluffy blanket, smashing buttons on controllers and laughing, yelling trash-talk at each other. Leigh sat down next to Suzy, and patted the seat next to him, offering for you to sit next to him. You made the choice and sat next to him, and he put an arm around you, leaning back against the couch and pulling you with him.

As Arin and Suzy yelled at the game, Leigh spoke in a low voice near your ear. “Are you going to tell me why th-that fucking asshole is harassing you?”

“He’s just attached to our past.”

“What past do you have?”

“He used to ask me to fool around all the time. I would say no almost every time, but he’s attached to the times I was too defeated to say no.”

“That...fucker!” he said. His voice was angry and you flinched. “He asked you to do that kind of shit while you weren’t fully aware?”

“Never with alcohol or drugs or anything. Just when I was too tired to argue with him.”

“That’s still not consent, (y/n)! That’s fucking absurd.”

You didn’t know what to say.

“I want you to stay far away from him. He’s a bastard and if he tries anything like that again you call me immediately. I refuse to let him treat you that way.”

Leigh technically was ordering you around, but you knew it was because he was upset. You probably would have called him anyways. “Okay.”

He sighed out, “Good.”

There was a long drag of silence between you two, only filled with the sounds of Arin and Suzy giggling. It left you time to think.

You really liked Leigh. You liked the way that he treated you, you liked the way he looked at you, and you liked the attention he gave you. But that sounded a lot like how you felt about Caleb before. You had to differentiate. Where Caleb had ‘little one,’ Leigh had ‘baby girl.’ Where Caleb played guitar, Leigh sang. Where Caleb was a punk kid who dropped out of school, Leigh was a misunderstood kid with tattoos littering his arms who didn’t care about school.

But Leigh had that blue, beautiful turquoise blue mane of hair on his head. And Caleb could never compete with that. Leigh had that beautiful smile, that bubbling bouncing giggle, those bright brown eyes. He had that silvery septum ring, those worn leather boots with burn marks from cigarettes he never smoked, old ratty Rush t-shirts. He had that unicorn tattoo, Tom Sawyer lyrics scrawled up his ribs, blood red roses dancing up his chest and sides.

Caleb could never ever compete with Leigh.

And you couldn’t be happier that Leigh was the superior in that battle.

You looked down to where Leigh’s arm was resting between you two, him having dropped it from behind your back during your conversation. You looked at the tattoos coloring his skin, and reached, tracing them with your fingers.

“Do you like them, baby girl?” Leigh asked.

You nodded quietly, “Do they have a story?”

“Some of ‘em do. You know my new one has a story. The unicorn is because I love them. The Last Unicorn is one of my favorite movies.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I used to watch it as a kid all the time. It still makes me cry.”

“That’s really sweet.”

“You think so?”

You nodded again, and he smiled gently at you.

Arin spoke up, “You two want to give it a go?”

“Sure,” Leigh said, reaching for the controllers and handing one to you. “You’re going down.”

The trash-talk was half hearted, and you giggled, voice increasing in volume, “No, you’re going down!”

He laughed and it was like music to your ears, the game started and he laughed more as you yelled in delight with the actions in the game.

The games were over a couple hours later, and you felt better, lighter, happier. Caleb was forgotten and Leigh filled that space with himself, his laugh, his smile, everything about him. You were growing fonder of him each and every moment.

“Can you take me home, Leigh? I should probably be back before dinner.”

“Sure, baby girl. Let’s go. Bye Arin, Scuze.”

“See ya,” Suzy said.

“Bye Danny, (y/n),” Arin said, turning his attention back to the game in front of him before swearing as Suzy killed him again.

Leigh led you upstairs and back out the front door. You slid into the passenger seat of the car, and he started the engine. Pulling out of the driveway, he clicked on the radio. The CD changer clicked and switched CD’s, and he let a laugh out before saying, “If this is something embarrassing, don’t judge me.”

The car filled with Leigh’s voice, but a different sound than Dudes and Dolls. Clearly this was before he was in that band.

I’d swim an ocean wide

I’d run a thousand miles.

So you won’t ever let me go.

I’d leave it all behind

So I could see you smile

Before we have to hit the road.

Your voice was stuck in your throat, “Leigh?”

“Hm?” He flicked on his turn signal to turn.

“I want to tell you something.”

“Go for it.”

“I think I like you.”

“I like you too, (y/n).”

“No, I mean like- I like you.” You tried to emphasize.

“N-no no no. You don’t. You just...I saved your life, that’s why you think that, baby girl. You don’t really, I promise. Don’t feel obligated.”

Leaving it all be,

Leaving it all behind.

We’re on a skydive.

We never want to,

We never want to find.

What’s on the other side.

“It’s not like that, Leigh. I really mean it. I was thinking about it while we were sitting at Arin’s. I’m not just- It’s not just because you stopped Caleb.”

“Please don’t force yourself to like me just because of that.”

He was trying so hard to make sure you didn’t like him, but you couldn’t let it go. You did like him.

Woah, let’s ride through this night.

Never looking back.

Veering off the track.

He pulled into your driveway, and put the car in idle, “Bye, baby-girl.”

You got out and spoke, “I...pretend I didn’t say anything.”

“We’ll talk,” he promised, dodging your statement before sticking the car in reverse and backing out of your driveway. You pulled at the hole-filled hem of the ratty Rush shirt you were wearing and sighed. Everything made sense with him, but without him was confusing. You just wanted to admit to him that you liked him. You’d figured it out, decided your feelings without even needing to go to the safety of the library.

But he drove away in disbelief.

Chapter Text

You rolled over in your bed, yawning loudly after waking from your nap. It had been a few hours since Leigh had left you. You knew you’d have to talk to him again, knew you’d have to tell him what the truth was. He left doubt in you. Was it really that you liked him? Or was it that you liked that he was saving you from Caleb?

You reached for your phone, hearing it vibrate. No notifications came up, so you went to check the email you knew had arrived. What you saw caused your stomach to sink.

An email. From Caleb.

Hey little one. I noticed that your ‘dad’ never showed, huh? Just that other asshole and his friend. You know that I don’t like it when you lie to me, little one. It’s not fair for either of us. I’m very disappointed in you. You should know better.

We’ll be seeing each other soon, I believe. Expect me.

- C

A chill tickled down your spine, and you shivered unwillingly. Caleb was going to find you. He didn’t ever come to your house in the time you knew him, but you had a strong, gut-twisting fear that he would find it. You had a fear he’d catch you driving home and follow you.

Maybe he already knew now.

Another chill danced down your back and you sighed, shaking your head and clicking the button on your phone to make the screen fade to dark. You knew you couldn’t just keep running to Leigh at the first sign of trouble. Even though that’s what he told you to do. You had to be strong on your own. You had to handle this by yourself.

You decided to ignore the email and roll back over to sleep some more. Sleeping the day away felt like the right thing to do. The shirt you’d worn, still hole-filled, seemed to be filled with the smell of cigarettes and Leigh. This was the last thing you retained before drifting off.

~*~

“Hey, little one,” he said, smile curling up his lips.

You smiled back, you watched yourself smile back and it made your gut wrench. Why were you smiling at him?

It was like you were reliving a memory. You were reliving a memory.

“You ready?”

You watched yourself, in a sunshiney yellow blouse and tucked in his too-big leather jacket, nodding excitedly. Why did you agree? You wanted nothing to do with him.

But past you wanted everything to do with him, you reminded yourself.

He took you by the hand and it made your own skin crawl thinking you let him touch you that way, thinking that you dared to let him touch you where Leigh touched you later on in life. You had no control of it then or now, but you wanted to change it, wanted to make it possible that you never even knew Caleb at all.

He led you to a motorcycle, painted with the sparkling metal flake paint that he was so proud of buying with his dad’s debit card. Handing you the helmet, he slid on and you slid on behind him. He let out a wild laugh and for a moment even you convinced yourself he was okay. But as you slid on the helmet, he revved the engine and kept laughing. His laugh began to sound like a dull aching thrum against your ears. Wrapping your arms around his waist felt foreign, dirty and wrong, like you shouldn’t be doing it now.

Another rev of the engine and then you were speeding down the street. You watched the school building streak away in shades of reddish-brick brown and taupe concrete. The streets blended into forest-surrounded roads of orangey dirt. He’d driven this way before, the Clay Park paths that had signs littering the sides of the paths that explicitly said “No motorcycles, skateboards, or rollerblades” but he ignored because he was too edgy to care.

An officer in the park yelled at him to stop, but he sped up and drove the rest of the way through the park.

You were angry, the feeling filling you straight to the tips of your fingers as you clenched your fist, watching you in that pretty blouse clutching onto that forest green shirt of his. You hoped you never saw that shirt again. You hoped Leigh never wore forest green.

He stopped the vehicle in front of a small area that the kids at your school called the Pot-luck. Not only because it was a hodgepodge of random people who sat there, but also because it was the typical place for kids from the local public school to get high before, after, and during school.

He got off the motorcycle, kicking out the kickstand and pulling you by the hand. He pulled you to sit on the bench, where he pulled out a pack of Marlboro cigarettes, and tapping them against his leg a couple times.

You’d known before why he does this, but he always tells you. He thinks it matters to you. “To pack the tobacco in there, y’know. Not as good if you don’t.” You nodded halfheartedly as he lights one of the thin, white sticks. Sucking it in and blowing out a breath of smoke directly in your face as he speaks, “C’mon little one. You’re having a good time, right?”

In all honesty, you knew you weren’t. Even you in that current time wasn’t having fun. But you watched yourself force a smile and say, “Yeah, yeah, I am.”

“Good, I’m glad.” It was a mystery he didn’t know you were lying to him, considering how often he accused you of lying anyways. As puffs of smoke filtered out of his mouth, he sang in the raspy, smoke-ruined voice that you used to love. Now it just made you sick, like the tobacco in his breath.

Memories, they fade away

Memories, they can be replaced

Memories, oh memories

What do they matter, anyways?

You won’t remember me

I won’t remember you

Let’s make memories last

By taking advantage of now

Back then, you would have thought this was romantic. You would have felt like you mattered. But now you know that he’d sing this to any doe-eyed girl. You know you weren’t special to him any more than that girl he used to see as a bassist for his guitar shows. You didn’t matter to him, she didn’t matter. You doubted if he even mattered to himself.

He took another long drag of his cigarette, “You love me, don’t you, little one?”

The smoke stung your eyes and twisted into your lungs as you inhaled, but you couldn’t bring yourself to reply. You didn’t love him, but if you said no, he would get angry.

The cigarette’s lit end came close to your wrist that he had grabbed when you didn’t respond. “Right?”

You really didn’t want to answer, didn’t want to give him another lie you’d come to regret. You tried to force yourself awake, knowing what came next and not wanting to feel that searing pain on your wrist again. You already had a couple circle-shaped burns on your thighs, straw sized holes burnt into your jeans where he’d jammed the hot end of the cigarettes before.

But you couldn’t wake up fast enough and you felt that stinging sensation on your wrist as you forced yourself awake, blinking it away as your body adjusted.

~*~

Your arm felt hot like it had been from all the cigarette smoke that Caleb had blown at you. Your wrist still felt almost like he was still pressing that cigarette into your skin, but a duller, less enthusiastic pain. You looked down to see that dark ring on your skin, still scarred like the few dots on your thighs were.

You knew you should be more scared than you were, but you didn’t know what to do. You knew you had to talk to Leigh, had to sort out your feelings- though you were fairly sure you had those decided now, after remembering what happened with Caleb once of many times. You decided it might be smart to write everything out. Writing things made your head clearer.

You grabbed a sheet of paper and a pen, and started writing.

Chapter Text

You looked down at the work in front of you, sighing out. You’d created five front-and-back sheets, scribbled out and covered in ink with the words reflecting your feelings about Caleb, about Leigh, about everything going on at the moment. You wanted to tell him, both of them, but didn’t want to face Caleb on your own.

You sent a text to Leigh.

< Can you pick me up in like 10 mins? I want to show you something and I need help with a Caleb related problem.

As you were in the middle of typing an email to Caleb asking him to meet you the same place you were going to ask Leigh to take you, you received a text back.

> Is he bothering you?

< No, but... I wrote out all my feelings and I wanted to get you both together to clear the air and read it to both of you. It’s easier for me to do it both at once, and I feel safer around him when you’re there.

You finished your email, and sent it off.

Caleb,

Meet me at Groveview in about 15 minutes? We need to talk.

It took you a long time to formulate this reply, for some reason. Perhaps it was your hesitation to associate with Caleb. You heard a honk outside and grabbed your jacket, wearing the same clothes you were wearing before: the black leather jacket, ratty Rush shirt, dark jeans. You held your phone and your wrinkly ink-filled pages in your hands as you walked to the familiar green car in front of your house. You slid into the seat and Leigh immediately had a hand on your arm.

“Are you okay, baby girl?”

“Yes,” you assured. “I just need to get all the feelings out in the open.”

“I get it. Is he going too?”

“Yeah, Groveview. I told him about fifteen minutes, but that was, like, five minutes ago.”

“Okay, I’ll head out that way, but we can take it slow. Maybe do a loop around so we aren’t early, hm?”

“Might be better that we’re early,” you said softly, embarrassed all of a sudden. “He might think something happened because of you that caused me to dislike him.”

“Which isn’t true,” Leigh concluded.

“Yes. I didn’t like him even when we fooled around.”

He patted your arm over the console again, “I’m sorry that happened.” He stopped at a light and turned to face you fully, turquoise curls bouncing around his face, light catching his septum ring, “But hey. We’ll figure it out, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you agreed.

“Got a lot to say?” he asked, as he glanced at the sheets in your hands. The light changed to green and he turned forward again, boot-clad foot on the gas.

You just nodded, not really feeling the need to talk. You looked him over. He was wearing a faded black shirt, torn jeans, black boots. He had some rings on his fingers you hadn’t seen before, and a necklace around his neck that had some weird object on it. You couldn’t place what it was.

You arrived at Groveview with about five minutes to spare. You got out on your own, letting Leigh take his time shoving his keys, a pack of cigarettes he didn’t smoke, and a wad of money in his pocket. You both stretched onto a bench to wait for Caleb to drive up in the motorcycle he had, engine roaring and yelling like he always did.

A few minutes later in the silence, watching the leaves fall and people walk, you heard the crunch of footsteps and a familiar voice.

“Oh, you brought that son of a bitch.”

You felt Leigh tense sitting next to you, but patted his arm gently, before saying, “Please try to keep things civil, Caleb. Please.”

His lips pursed but he obliged, giving you this. He said, “Why is he here?”

“I need to talk to the both of you.”

Caleb didn’t sit, just stood, staring condescendingly at the two of you. Leigh leaned, turned to face you. When you didn’t start, Caleb sighed impatiently, “Get on with it, (y/n). I don’t have all day. It took me twenty minutes to walk here.”

You wanted to ask where the motorcycle was, but part of you knew he sold it away for money. Money for drugs, for alcohol, for something. You just shook it off. Leigh was gentle, “Whenever you’re ready, (y/n).”

The way he said your name was so tender. So different from Caleb. Caleb said your name like a command, with force, action, anger. Leigh said your voice like it was a treasure, something fragile, glasslike, able to break at any moment. Caleb saw you as an object, the way he barked at you. Ordered you like a dog. Leigh saw you as a person, voice calm, gentle, reassuring. Talked to you like you mattered.

That gave you the push you needed to start.

“You both have impacted my life.” You started, lamely. “You both know that. C-Caleb,” and you swore at yourself for stuttering. “You showed me stuff I’d never seen before. I saw drugs, alcohol, hard rock and roll. I felt like a rebel for awhile when I was with you.” The smug look that grew on Caleb’s face made you sick, as he looked at Leigh with a sneer. “But you’re not good for me. You weren’t then, you aren’t now, and I doubt you will.”

“You bitch,” Caleb started, voice raised.

“Civil, Caleb. Keep it civil,” you reminded, voice still quiet to combat his loudness. “You’ve left enough scars on me. The cigarette burns, the tears to my heart, the fractures in my mind. I don’t want anything else from you anymore. I don’t deserve it.”

“How can you fucking say that, (y/n)? After all we’ve been through!”

You shook your head. “You put me through too much.”

“I showed you things you’d never seen, you even said it! I let you drink whiskey and we kissed and kissed all night long. I taught you innocence and lack thereof! I touched you--”

Leigh leaned forward, clearing his throat, “Let her finish.”

“Fuck you,” Caleb said.

“Let her finish,” Leigh says again, standing his ground.

You wanted to thank him, but didn’t want to anger Caleb by showing more favor for Leigh. “And Leigh,” you started. “You showed me things I hadn’t seen either.”

“What could he have shown you that I didn’t?!” Caleb yells.

You shush him, nerves starting to get to you as he pushed your buttons. He knew you hated being interrupted. “Leigh showed me that rockers don’t have to be assholes. He showed me that people can drink, do drugs, whatever and still be good people. Suzy and Arin get high all the time, but they’re so kind to me. Leigh showed me music I’d never heard. Leigh showed me how tattoos work, showed me how each one can hold a story, a small picture on skin can mean so much. Leigh showed me that just because other people around me do drugs or drink, doesn’t mean I have to. Leigh makes me feel supported, loved, happy.”

Leigh had a small smile on his face, probably because he was just complimented.

“I’m gonna kill him,” Caleb says. Then, he decides on something else, “I’ll kill you both,” Caleb promises.

“I’ve said what I wanted to say. Leigh, let’s go.” You stood, and he followed. You slid into the car and sighed. “I’m scared.”

“I know, baby girl.”

“I don’t know what to do,” you admitted.

“Just...let it go, I guess. Hope he doesn’t keep coming back.”

“But he threatened me, Leigh.”

“I know he did. But if you get the police involved, you’re in for a hell of a lot of trouble.”

“How?”

“He probably has friends, doesn’t he?” Leigh asks.

“He had friends when we used to be friends. But... I don’t know. A lot of them probably have been arrested already.”

“Not a good crowd?”

“I thought you knew that.”

Leigh had circled the park four times, and finally just rolled into an empty parking lot and parked the car to talk. “I could guess, but that’s just affirmation.”

Silence blanketed you two, heavy and thick. You didn’t know what to say, and he didn’t know how to say it.

“Hey... we can go report it if you want to. I’ll go with you.”

“I’d need to call my parents first.”

“We can do that. I don’t mind waiting. Go ahead.”

You pulled out your phone, tapping a few things before dialing your dad’s number. He knew about Caleb more than your mother did. “Hey...dad?”

There was silence for a moment, then his voice came through, “What’s the matter?” You guessed he knew that you didn’t normally call him around this time.

“Caleb.”

“What’s he done? I thought you’d gotten away from him.”

“I...did. But then he came back up. He found me at the library.”

“Oh no.”

“Dad...he...he threatened me.”

“You need to go report it. Now.”

You nodded, even though your father couldn’t see it, and bit your lip. Leigh reached across the console for your hand, taking it gently and lacing your fingers together. It was what calmed you down. “I called to let you know. Get your permission.”

“You have all the permission in the world, (y/n). Go do that. I’ll tell your mom.”

You hung up after he did, looking at your fingers tangled with Leigh’s. You noticed the tattoos littering his fingers, though at the moment you could only see ‘fuck’ in all-caps written across his knuckles. You wondered what his other hand said, but decided to leave it for another day.

“We can go.”

Leigh pulled the car out of park, sacrificing holding your hand to do so. But the moment the vehicle was set in drive, his fingers were back to yours. It felt safe holding them, felt safe knowing that he was there with you.

The drive was silent. Exhausting. The radio hadn’t been put on. There’d been no reason to. When you arrived at the station, you both got out, and he still held your hand as you walked in. Solemn and silent. Like a funeral procession. Perhaps it was a funeral in a way. The death of Caleb’s free lifestyle.

The death of the ties you’d have to him.

The death of the fear of him.

You both walked into the building, and a woman in uniform smiled at you, asking how she could help. You didn’t know what to say.

Leigh picked up the slack. “Uh, someone threatened my...” he stopped for a second, looking at your intertwined hands and trying to decide what to say. “...girlfriend. She wanted to come report it. He’s had a history of other stuff too.”

The woman nodded, “We’ll be with you after you do the paperwork. We’re currently in the middle of someone else’s report who came before you, but we do need you to fill out the paperwork so we can keep the information in our files. Sound good?”

Leigh nodded and you forced a smile, speaking to her after reading her nametag, “Thanks, Gina.”

“No problem, sweetheart. We’ll get this worked out, okay?”

You nodded again, and she reached behind a desk to grab some papers for you. She handed them to you, along with a pen, before turning a door that said, “Authorized Personnel Only.” She stopped for a second, then said, “What are your names, again?”

“I’m (y/n),” you said.

“Danny,” Leigh said.

Again with Danny, you thought to yourself.

Gina just nodded, smiled, and went through the door, letting it shut behind her.

You sat in one of the hard, plastic blue chairs. Leigh took the one next to you. You began filling out the sheets.

First name. Last name. Occupation. Age. Date of birth.

It felt so monotonous, filling out paperwork. Almost as if you could fall asleep.

~*~

You were woken up by Leigh softly singing and the scratch of a pen.

When it’s all said and done

We’ll realize we’ve won

And we’ll need to make up

for the lost time from this shake-up

Do you want to try again?

Do you want to start over again?

I don’t blame you, baby

A new start could make it all okay, maybe.

“How long was I asleep for?” you asked quietly.

He finished the phrase he was writing, “Not long. Five minutes or so.”

“Did you do the rest of the work?”

“Just one more question. I want you to read over it though. There’s one question I had to skip that was the past stuff, but I figured you could do that.”

“Were you going to wake me up?”

“In a bit, yeah.”

“Did Gina come back in?” You were beginning to feel paranoid with all of the things you could have missed in those five minutes. Falling asleep in a police station was the worst thing you could have done.

“So many questions, baby girl. It’s alright,” he reassured, sensing the anxiety in you. “She came in to tell us they’d be done in about ten minutes. But that was like, right before you woke up.”

“Okay,” you settled.

He finished the question and handed it back. You added a few things to some of the questions he’d done, before turning back to the one he had skipped.

13. Does the individual you are reporting have any past instances of issues? If so, what?

You wrote slowly, carefully.

He has stalked me, burned me with cigarettes, gotten me drunk in order to get me to fool around with him (once, and I said no. We didn’t actually do anything though.), broke in and entered into my...

You stopped. Leigh had called you his girlfriend. Should you write boyfriend? Talking wasn’t the same as official police records. You turned to him, and he looked at you, turquoise curls bouncing again.

“I’m trying to write about how he broke into your apartment. How should I refer to you?”

He said it so nonchalantly. “Boyfriend.”

“But, we--”

“I called you girlfriend earlier, and we don’t want errors in communication. Don’t worry. We can cross that bridge when it comes.”

“...Okay,” you said, softly.

“Don’t forget about the chloroform, okay?” He was very adamant about this. You nodded, and went back to writing.

....my boyfriend’s apartment, removed his things from his apartment without asking, and drugged me with chloroform within my boyfriend’s apartment.

As you finished, Gina came in, “Alright, we can take you both now. I’ll take the paperwork. Go ahead into room four, (y/n), Danny. The sheriff is waiting in there for you two.”

Leigh took your hand, pulling you through the door. His thumb rubbing over the knuckles of your hand felt almost like a reminder to your heart to beat in consistent rhythm. You sat in front of the sheriff, and Leigh sat next to you, still never letting go of your hands.

The sheriff looked at Leigh, his bright hair, septum piercing, tattoos up his arms. You knew that he was judging him.

“What brings you two in here today?” he asks.

“I...I’ve been having a bit of a problem with a guy recently.”

“This guy?” the sheriff assumes. Leigh leans forward to say something, but you squeeze his hand gently. Trying to tell him to back off. That it was okay.

“No, no. Not at all him.” You realized with the records, Leigh had called himself Danny. So you went with that. “Danny has been nothing but wonderful. It’s about another guy.”

“Who?”

“Caleb Wynn.”

The sheriff nodded knowingly, “Bridgewater Bust.”

You shrugged.

“What’s he done?”

“I filled it out on the paperwork,” you said quietly.

The sheriff reached for the phone, before pressing a button and speaking, “Gina, can you bring me the paperwork that...” he trailed off, searching for your name.

“(y/n),” you supplied.

“...that (y/n) filled out for our records? Thank you.”

You three sat in silence as Gina walked in, bright smile and all, and handed the manila folder to the sheriff. He flipped through the papers without a word.

“Ah. I see the situation now.”

“What are you going to do?” you couldn’t help but ask.

“We’re going to see if something happens.”

Leigh spoke up now, “You can’t just wait to see if he tries to kill her or not. That’s a pretty serious accusation, isn’t it?”

“But we have no proof, other than your word,” the sheriff says calmly.

“Isn’t that proof enough? She’s terrified! I’m scared for her,” Leigh says. “You can’t just- you can’t expect it to just work out on its own.”

“I don’t expect it to work out on its own. I expect he’ll either go after you and we’ll arrest him, or he won’t touch you and then we’ll have to review your claim to see if you’re lying.”

“You can do any lie detector test you want, I’m not lying,” you said.

“And for now, I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt and trust you aren’t lying, (y/n). But that may change.”

“Sir, there are other specific things included on those documents that he’s done that would also make it possible for you to arrest him. He’d been doing drugs and alcohol since high school, he’s stalked me on multiple occasions, he touched me against my consent multiple times, he’s tried to coerce me to fool around with him on multiple occasions. There has to be something you can do!”

He reads over the paperwork one last time, considering what you had just said to him, combined with what you had written.

“I’ll see.”

“What are you going to do? How long is he going to be in jail for?”

“Don’t jump to conclusions. We’ll see what we can do. Is the number you wrote on here a number we can use to contact you about this?”

“Yes, but--”

“That will be all, (y/n).” He didn’t even address Leigh until a moment later. “And you...Danny.”

The look on the sheriff’s face made you wonder if there was some sort of history between the officer and Leigh.

“But--” you tried again.

“Please leave my office.”

“I just--” Maybe the third time would work. Though part of you knew it wouldn’t.

“Goodbye.”

Chapter Text

Eventually, Leigh just had to tell you that the police weren’t going to help. You wanted to believe that they were going to do something, but based on how the sheriff treated your case, you should have known they’d never call. You’d asked to stay at Leigh’s house after a week where nothing had happened in either direction, Caleb’s or the police’s. You laid next to him on the floor as he twirled a cigarette between his fingers, singing under his breath.

Falling for you,

Is like grabbing at clouds.

And tail-spinning through,

While on my way down.

It felt so much like a pity party, the way you both laid on the beige-y sand carpeting on his floor, full of little burns in the carpet. He told you the burns were from when he used to smoke weed all the time, and when he’d stub it out on the carpeting or accidentally drop his blunt. You asked him if he’d ever smoke weed again. He said he might, but not as a regular thing like he used to. Silence filled the room, heavy and loud, except for his singing.

We always disappear.

No way to calm the night.

Don’t worry about me...

Calm down, and close your eyes.

A voice outside the door, and you knew it was Leigh’s mom. She was nice, you recalled. She offered you some tea when you came in, which you politely declined. “Danny? Are you two okay in there?”

He responded, “Yeah, Debbie, we’re fine.” You forgot about how he called his parents by their first names, forgot about a lot of the tiny things he told you in the safe, dark confines of his room, during your pity party.

“Okay. If you two need anything, I’ll be in the kitchen. Your father will be home in a half-hour. I hope you’ll introduce (y/n) to him before she goes. He’d like to meet her.”

His mom seemed to believe you two were together. And you supposed that was understandable, considering how you acted around each other due to current situation. You hardly left Leigh’s side, you held hands on the street (out of comfort, mostly), and he kept adding more and more pet names to the list that already came out of his mouth. It seemed very clear that you two were together, but it was never an outright stated idea. You’d have to talk through it first. After Caleb. That was a later problem. You had to focus on the problem at hand.

You didn’t say anything, but Leigh pulled you closer by your waist, and you let it happen. You left the silence between you two. It was a warm silence, not uncomfortable, but still it left something feeling empty in you. There was the opening of a door, the closing of it, and voices downstairs. Clearly Leigh’s dad had arrived home. Leigh removed his arm from around you, and sat up, “We should go so I can introduce you to my dad.”

You stood as he did, and he took your hand again, leading you downstairs. You saw his mom, and she offered a smile at you while she cooked in the kitchen. Leigh was calling through the house, “Avi!”

A very distinct voice replied, “Yes, Dan?”

“I want to introduce you to someone.”

He walked out of the room he was in, and you realized he was a very...different individual. Not bad different, just someone you doubted you’d forget easily. It was an awkward and interesting interaction, but his dad was nice. You appreciated that he was so kind to you, though you could have assumed from the fact that Leigh was so nice too. As the interaction with Avi came to a close, Leigh’s mom came in, interrupting politely, “(y/n), will you be staying for dinner?”

You looked between the three, Leigh, his mom, his dad. Leigh, looking at you, fingers still intertwined with yours and turquoise hair bouncing as he rocked back and forth on his heels. His mom, head cocked to the side in question, eyes crinkled at the sides in a close-lipped smile. And his dad, fully grinning, still wiping away at his eyes from another joke that Leigh had told a bit before. They were each so special, and you really liked that about them.

“I’d like that, thank you, Mrs. Avidan.”

She smiled, batting her hand at you, “Pfft, (y/n)...call me Debbie!”

And just like that, you felt like you belonged with the family. You felt welcomed. That was a feeling that you enjoyed most of all. The feeling of being welcomed, the warmth that seemed to radiate from Leigh’s entire family, the laughter of his dad still filtering...

Leigh’s fingers still grounding you.

~*~

You had been walking home from school, opting to avoid taking your car that day. You kept your purse close, after all, you had a can of pepper spray and you wouldn’t hesitate to use it on someone. Arriving at your doorstep, you found a slip of paper with your name written on the front. You noticed the words on the inside were written using magazine cuts.

But when you opened it, you recognized the name.

(y/n),

I’m pissed you got the cops involved. I always knew you were a bitch. Do yourself a favor, and just let it happen. The blue haired bastard is nothing. You know I’m twenty times better than that prick.

- C

A picture fell out of the letter too, this time. It was a rather candid picture of you and Leigh walking hand-in-hand. You’d remembered this day. He was walking you home the night after you’d had dinner with his parents. The photo was defaced. Where Leigh’s face would have been (and you knew this by the clothes and the turquoise tendrils of curls that poked out behind it) was a large red ‘x’, scribbled heavy and dark so his face was practically unrecognizable. Scribbles covered your hands, tied together by fingers. A large heart went around your face. The blurriness of the photo told you very plainly that Caleb had been stalking you when he took this picture, taking it on his phone camera.

Your stomach sunk, and you texted Leigh and told him that Caleb sent you another letter, but you didn’t mention the photo. It had been the fifth letter. He’d stalked you to different places several times, never going directly after you, but sitting four tables over in a Starbucks or standing five aisles over in Walgreen’s.

You reminded yourself of the letter he left on your doorstep the first time, which twisted your stomach because that meant he’d found your address. It simply said that he was going to find you. He signed it the same way he signed all the others. You remembered the time he stood an aisle over in Target, pretending to be interested in tampons and Depend pads while you looked for shampoo. You remembered the creeping feeling of someone watching you, and turning around, feigning to look at the other side of the aisle, but seeing him looking at you straight on out of your peripherals. Remembering this sent a chill down your spine.

Luckily, Leigh responded quickly.

> Just stick to being inside for awhile, baby girl. It’ll be fine. You’re safe. Call me if you need to.

You went inside, and didn’t leave until the next day.

Coming home from school, you couldn’t help yourself from practically jogging. The fear of nothing and everything made it so easy for you to hurry. You saw another letter on your doorstep that day, and your heart pounded. Not again not again not again-

You opened it, and saw Leigh’s name at the bottom.

It was handwritten too.

lamb,

meet me at the park where we talked with caleb. you know the place. we need to talk about something. i think you know what.

- danny

He’d used one of his newer pet names now in this letter. You know that ‘baby girl’ will always be his favorite, but he’d also enjoyed using ‘lamb’ and ‘angel.’ You shoved the letter into your bag, turning back around and walking to the park. You felt like you were being watched the whole time, but shrugged it off. You knew it was just Caleb, hiding around a corner, lurking in the bushes. It was normal. He didn’t ever outwardly assault you, so you just had to let it go.

You walked into the front gates of the park, the entire time thinking about what Leigh meant when he said you’d know what you needed to talk about. Was it the fact that you both were putting off the romantic stuff that you both clearly needed to talk about? Was it about Caleb? About himself? You didn’t know.

As you headed towards the benches, you saw Holly sitting on the bench, feeding the birds. A couple of the pigeons sat near her, and she reached out to stroke one of them. She looked up and made eye contact with you, “(y/n)! What’re you doing here?”

“Meeting Leigh here,” you responded.

“Oh?”

“Yeah, he said he wanted to talk about something.”

“Okay, I’ll probably head out then. Don’t want to intrude on your conversation.” She stood and you watched her leave, pulling her phone out as she walked. You sat on the bench that she had vacated, and waited. You appreciated that Holly had the decency to let you and Leigh be alone.

You saw a figure approaching, and didn’t look up at first, saying, “Hey, Leigh!”

The voice that responded made you look straight up. It made your skin crawl. “I cannot believe you’re this gullible, little one. I forgot how easy you are.” He didn’t end the sentence. He left it at how easy you were. Not easy to fool. Easy in general.

You shook your head. That wasn’t true. Your eyes looked straight into his, and his face was stuck in that perpetual scowl. “Why did you do this, Caleb?” You hoped it wasn’t exactly what you thought it was--

“I’m here to settle shit. I’ll beat you to shit and then go after the blue haired bastard. He’ll come running really quick if I text him off your phone.” The sneer in his voice, scowl still stuck on his face, but mouth upturned in such an evil grin you almost wanted to punch it right off his stupid face.

Almost? More like, you did.

Fingers curled into a fist that your father taught you how to do so you wouldn’t break your bones, you punched as hard as you could. Your fist did little damage to his face, but it did jar him long enough for you to kick your foot up and cause your knee to gouge him in the gut. He keeled over, wheezing at the sudden expulsion of air from his lungs, but this was short lived. You were reeling back to try to punch him again, however weak your punches were, when he popped a punch right to your nose.

You heard his fist crack into your face and felt your nose get hot. It was a sensation so odd to you. You blinked a couple times in succession, startled by his sudden punch, and your face began to sting. Tears welled up in your eyes, without your consent, and you walked backwards until the backs of your knees hit the bench. Touching your face, your hand revealed blood. A lot of it. Pressing the fleshy side of your hand to the bottom of your nose, you narrowed your watery eyes at him, “You’re an asshole, Caleb.”

“I know, baby, but I can’t help it. And you look so fucking gorgeous with blood on your face.”

Your body stung with new shivers that you willed to go away. It made you sick. You hoped no one ever saw you the way Caleb did. Like an object. You felt so dizzy, and you wished things were different as you sat there, fingers covered in your own blood and Caleb fast approaching, hands ready to grab you. His fingers closed around your forearms as you held your hand under your bloody nose, too tight too tight too tight--

“(y/n)!” you heard. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from Caleb’s face, his rabid eyes. His fingers squeezed you tighter and his face turned to a disgusting grin.

“Baby, ignore that. It’s only me here.”

“(y/n)!” the voice called again. It was familiar but so washed out. You were so dizzy.

“Little one...you’re so beautiful,” Caleb said. He was lying, wasn’t he? He was a liar. A gross, disgusting liar. Right?

You didn’t know for sure, anymore.

His hands left your arms and went for your throat, staining red from the blood that had dripped down your chin. You were too scared to move.

You heard the crack of a fist against skin, and winced, waiting for more pain to blossom on your face. You looked up, and saw Caleb on the ground, Leigh straddling him and punching with reckless abandon. You could tell Leigh hardly had fought someone, but with his knees pinning Caleb’s arms down, he was winning. Fingers still under your nose, you stood and walked closer. Caleb was clearly unconscious now. You put the lesser bloody hand on Leigh’s shoulder, and his hands slowed.

“I think we should call him an ambulance.”

“He fucking hurt you! He doesn’t deserve--”

“He doesn’t deserve to die, Leigh. He’s an asshole, he hurt me, yes. But he doesn’t deserve to die. Not here, at least.” Your voice was soft, controlled. “Plus, it’d be nice to go get my nose checked out to see if I have a broken nose or something.”

He sighed, stood, and got off of Caleb. You took out your phone and dialed 9-1-1. You told the operator you needed an ambulance at Groveview. You promised you’d stay until the ambulance showed up.

~*~

Your nose wasn’t broken, but you were advised to ice it for awhile. Once Caleb got out of the hospital, they were going to send him to jail. Leigh had to be interrogated, but they didn’t put any charges against him. Things seemed to be okay. Caleb was gone and you could finally settle down and just relax. You wanted to get closer to Leigh and his friends. You were pulled from your thoughts by your phone ringing. You picked it up, and greeted, “Hello?” Leigh’s voice came as a response.

“We need to talk.”

Chapter Text

You were supposed to meet Leigh the next afternoon after school. School dragged on, as it usually does under anticipation of future events. When the bell rang, you were the first out of the room, practically running to meet him in the lot. He was leaning against his car, the green Impala looking more shabby than usual. You couldn’t help but notice the slightly burned passenger seat and the tiny drops of blood on the driver’s seat.

You shook these things from your memory as he greeted you, “Hey, baby girl.”

You smiled at him, “Hey, Leigh. You wanted to talk?” As he nodded, the smoke trailing from his fingers caught your eyes and you noticed he was smoking a blunt. “I thought you said no smoking?”

“Eh,” was all he said, as if that answered your question. “C’mon, I wanna talk.”

“Okay,” you said, and were ready to do so until he walked to the driver’s seat and slid into his car, thigh covering the drips of blood you had seen before. You had no choice but to follow him, and you watched him stub out the blunt on the side of his shoe, flicking the remains of it into a cup holder that held a couple pennies and a half-torn receipt. He was acting weird, but you shook it off. “What’s up?”

“We need to talk about....whatever we are.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that--like...you told me you had feelings for me what feels like ages ago. And I rejected you.” A sting of hurt went through your heart when he reminded you of that. You’d almost forgot. But things were different now, right? He’d held your hand, introduced you to his parents, spent almost any moment he could being there for you and protecting you when Caleb reared his ugly head at you. That had to mean something, didn’t it? “I rejected you because I didn’t really feel that way about you. I thought you loved the things I did, not me.”

You were about to argue when he continued, “But it’s different now. I know you still like me. But, I...,” he trailed off for a moment, collecting his thoughts. “I don’t know. I feel affection for you too, but I don’t know if I can go through a relationship right now.”

“Why?” you asked. You didn’t care about not being with him at the moment. You just wanted to make sure he was okay.

“I just...can’t.” He was hiding from you.

“You don’t need to hide your feelings,” you said. “Please tell me.”

“It’s not...a breakup or anything, if that’s what you thought.” You hadn’t really made any speculations. “I just...am going through some shit. The people at my apartment complex aren’t being that nice to me... I’m behind on rent... I just... Fuck. I don’t need to tell you this stuff.”

Immediately his walls went back up. He realized he was letting himself put down his facade of not caring. Even though it was never up around you. He cared a lot, about you, about himself and his friends, about school, about his music. But people couldn’t know that. People couldn’t know that he was someone with feelings.

You couldn’t shake your sneaking suspicions. “I don’t know if you’re letting on the whole truth, Leigh.”

His brown eyes were shooting daggers at you and he reached into his pocket and pulled out a pocketknife, twisting it in his fingers. You couldn’t help but see the dried reddish-rust that was on the blade.

“...Leigh,” you started hesitantly.

“It’s not what you’re thinking.”

You didn’t know what you were thinking. The situation itself was making you feel dizzy to begin with. You played with the hem of your shirt.

“What’s wrong with you?” you said, then realized your words did not come out the way you meant them. The blade tightened in his fingers, to the point that his fingers were nicked and blood started coming out.

“Fuck,” was all Leigh said, watching his fingers drip into the carpeting of the car. The tone of his voice was deadpan, as if he’d expected it to happen all along.

“Let me rephrase that. What’s going on? You aren’t telling me everything.”

“I shouldn’t have to, (y/n)!” Leigh bursted. “You aren’t a fucking therapist. I don’t have to tell you everything.”

“But I want you to. You need to.”

“I don’t need to do anything!” Leigh said, voice clipped.

“You do. You’re tense, you don’t even care that you’re bleeding right now, and you’ve been so aggressive with me.”

“You don’t know me.”

Why was he being so angry towards you? You were doing nothing but being kind to him.

“I don’t, but I want to. This is a good time to start--”

He cuts you off, “Shut the fuck up.”

You didn’t want to be around him anymore. “Danny,” you started. Using his first name was shock enough for him to look at you. “You know where to find me when you want to talk. Right now, I don’t appreciate being talked to that way. I just got away from someone who treated me the way you’re treating me right now, and I would appreciate being treated better than this. You should know that. I’ll see you around.”

You got up, and you exited the vehicle, starting your walk home. You heard Leigh start the engine of his car, and drive out of the lot, his car rushing right past you in hot heat and the hot tears you saw running down his cheeks.

~*~*~

You woke up the next morning with a few voicemails. They were all from Leigh. He sounded high.

“(y/n)... I fuckin’ love you,” he paused to giggle unfittingly with his statement. “You’re so fuckin’ hot....God.” The next few moments were mumbled words you couldn’t make out and the apparent sounds of him taking drags from a blunt.

The next one was no different. More love confessions. He slurred out how he wanted to fuck you. You shook your head and blinked away tears. He didn’t mean that, did he? Leigh was more respectful than that. That was the drugs talking. Wasn’t it?

The last one was a complete turn.

“I fucking hate you, (y/n).” There was a long, long pause. More mumbling and drags from a blunt. “You’re such a fucking bitch.” That couldn’t be true. Right? “You pretend like you fucking care but you don’t know shit . I’m so fucking messed up.” He giggled. What was he laughing at? “I could go jump off a bridge and you wouldn’t care at all. You’re a fucking bitch.” Repeating himself only made you feel worse, but you couldn’t ignore the fact that he alluded to killing himself. That was something you couldn’t ever ignore. “I kinda wish Caleb would’ve fucked you over because you’re fucking dead to me.”

You couldn’t stop your tears now. He had to have meant it if he really said it. As you were putting your phone back down, going to find tissues to wipe away your tears, your phone vibrated. Someone was calling you.

Leigh’s name was on the caller ID.

You declined it.

He called again.

You declined it a second time.

There was a text next, one you barely had time to read before he called a third time.

> Please pick up, I really need to talk.

You answered, and before he even spoke you said, “Now you want to talk? Or are you just going to start to open up and then get angry at me? Your voicemails last night make me want to hate you.”

There was a thick moment of silence, followed by his intake of breath as he started, “I was really stoned when I left those. Anything I said, I didn’t mean.”

“You said you loved me and that you wanted to fuck me, but then you said you hated me--”

He cut you off, “I didn’t mean those things.”

“Let me finish, Leigh!” You snapped. You couldn’t help but feel the fire raging in your insides as you spoke. “You told me you hated me. You told me I was a bitch. You told me that I didn’t care about you, you said you could jump off a bridge. You told me that you wished Caleb would have hurt me more because I’m dead to you. Well, which one was stoned you and which one was real you? Do you hate me or love me? You can’t tell me both of those were things you didn’t mean, because they’re opposite fucking feelings.”

He sighed. “I didn’t mean either.”

“That’s impossible!”

“It’s not. Just because I don’t hate you doesn’t mean I love you.”

“Then what does it mean? I’m tired of you being so wishy-washy with me. Everything is mixed signals and I have no idea what you mean half the time!”

“I didn’t--”

“You flirted with me openly all the time, and now you want to tell me you don’t have feelings for me? You want to act like nothing special was happening? Why did you go after me? Just because I was innocent, another girl you could reel in? Maybe you weren’t feeling fulfilled and you thought I was a quick fuck, huh?”

All this fire was fueling you. You were angry, and it wasn’t going to subside unless he had a good explanation.

“I’m wishy-washy because I’m depressed, (y/n),” Leigh admitted, deadpan.

“You’re--wait, what?” Suddenly you felt like the world’s biggest asshole. You sat down on your bed.

“I’m depressed. I was diagnosed with depression a little bit after I met you. I’ve also got obsessive compulsive disorder.”

“Is...that why you’re scared to like me?”

“Yes.” Knowing this did give you a bit of closure. But it still hurt. “I just don’t know if you’ll be able to handle when I go through a really bad depressive episode. And my OCD is just...it’s hard for me too. I get episodes of that too where I can’t leave my apartment or my parent’s house or anything and it causes so many problems for me.”

“I...had no idea.”

“Yeah. No one does. I haven’t told anyone.”

“Not even Arin or Suzy?”

“No.”

“Why me?”

“Because I knew you wouldn’t let it go. And that you’d understand.”

“What?”

“You might not have depression and OCD but you’ve been through some shit. All the Caleb stuff I’m sure has messed you up pretty badly. I can only imagine.”

“And I can only imagine what you’re going through, Leigh.”

“Can you come by my apartment?”

“S-sure, of course, when?”

“Now?” he asked. The pleading in his voice broke your heart.

“Of course, absolutely. I’ll be there soon.”

“Okay, good. Please hurry.”

The tone of his voice left an unsettled feeling in your chest as you rushed downstairs to hop into your car and drive down to Rosedale Apartments again. His music blasted through your speakers as you drove.

You’ve been changing

But so have I.

And what’s been happening

while I’m getting high?

You’re scared of me,

but baby,

You have every right to be.

I’m a fucking disaster.

In between smoke rings

and the broken promises

I can’t say I’m much better

than I was at the start.

Chapter Text

You practically screeched into the parking lot of Rosedale Apartments. You needed to get there quickly. You didn’t know what was going on, if he was okay. It stressed you beyond belief. You walked to his door and saw a note tacked to it, and for a moment your heart pounded as you thought it was an eviction notice. On it was a huge list of random words. You narrowed your eyes in confusion. Whatever it was, it didn’t make any sense to you.

You turned the knob and walked in. The apartment was silent, but just as you had remembered it from before. It was odd that there was no music, no singing, no signs of life. You wondered what was going on with Leigh, if he was okay.

You listened carefully and heard rustling to your left. Following the hallway, you found a door, shut, at the end. You knocked softly, “Leigh?”

A sound of acknowledgement came as a reply.

“Can I come in?”

Another acknowledging sound.

You turned the handle and came in. He was shirtless and flicking the ashes from a cigarette onto his sheets. That forced you to hurry close to him and take the cigarette away from him, “Leigh, that could catch on fire!”

He shrugged at you. He didn’t care.

You stubbed out the cigarette on his side table and set it there, before looking at him and all the tiny holes in his blue sheets. You looked around quickly to take stock of the room. The door you came from led back out of the apartment, and the other door was a closet. On the walls were a few unicorn posters and some framed vinyls. Two dressers. Clothes all over the floor. A bong on top of one of the dressers.

He looked at you, his eyes dark. You missed the spark.

“You did realize that would catch on fire right?”

“....Sure,” he looked at you, shrugging again.

“Also, those ashes could have hit your skin and would’ve hurt you.”

“Eh,” he says. A third shrug.

God, something was wrong.

“What’s going on?” you asked, quietly, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“I dunno,” he said.

You paused for a moment before saying, “I’ll be right back. Stay here, don’t move, okay?”

He nodded, “Wasn’t planning on moving.”

You went to the kitchen. As dorky as it was, it seemed fitting that Leigh had one of those containers for daily medications. You looked at it. Monday, empty. Tuesday, empty. Wednesday, empty. Thursday, empty. Friday still had medicine in it. Today was Friday. You sighed softly, getting a glass of water and taking the pills to his room.

“You forgot to take your medication.”

“I don’t need it,” he insists.

“Leigh, you need to take it.”

“No,” Leigh says. He was being childish because he was upset.

“You can’t stop taking a medication without asking your doctor first.”

“I asked him already,” Leigh said, though you could read the lie on his face.

“You didn’t. You just don’t want to take it.”

“That’s not true!”

“Then take your medicine.” His eyes narrowed angrily and he took the cup and pills from you, shoving them in his mouth and taking two large gulps of water to get it down. Setting the glass on the side table, he closed his eyes, sighing.

“Finish the rest of the water, okay? Then I want to ask you something.”

It took him fifteen minutes to finish the water, but you sat there with him the whole time, even though he had insisted you could leave. You knew he was being bipolar because he hadn’t taken his medication. You tried to not let it bother you.

“What did you want to ask me?” he said after awhile.

You pull out the paper from his door. “This was on the door. Does it mean anything to you?”

He looked down at it and you looked with him

Golf Oscar Oscar Delta [Dash] Foxtrot Oscar Romeo [Dash] November Oscar Tango Hotel India November Golf [Dot] [space] Sierra Lima Alpha Charlie Kilo Echo Romeo [Dot] Charlie Romeo Alpha Zulu Yankee [Dot] [space] Papa Sierra Yankee Charlie Hotel Oscar [Dot] [space] Kilo India Lima Lima [space] Yankee Oscar Uniform Romeo Sierra Echo Lima Foxtrot [Dot] [space] Papa India Echo Charlie Echo [space] Oscar Foxtrot [space] Sierra Hotel India Tango [Dot] [space] Whiskey Oscar Romeo Tango Hotel Lima Echo Sierra Sierra [Dot]

“I stopped reading them a long time ago. They left me directions on the first one they left. It’s the NATO phonetic alphabet.” He dug in one of the dressers, pulling out one of his journals and handing you a printed sheet of paper with the key on it. It took you a few moments to translate the first bit, but once you read what you had, you decided you didn’t want to read anymore. It just hurt you to think about.

The journal page was left open, and you couldn’t help yourself from looking at it.

Blf’iv dligsovhh. Incorrect.

Klrmgovhh. Undetermined.

Blf’ev wrhzkklmgvw blfi uznrob. Incorrect.

Hsv szgvh blf. Undetermined.

Hsv’oo mvevi olev blf. Probably.

Ml nzggvi sld nxfs blf olev svi, hsv’oo mvevi olev blf yzxp. Probably.

Blf xzm’g vevi gvoo svi sld blf uvvo. Correct.

Proo blfihvou. Ignore.

Kzizmlrz rh z hrtm lu dvzphmvhh. Undetermined.

The mixture of actual words and gibberish confused you, but he closed the journal before you could figure it out. He sighed, and said, “I’ve been told to write my thoughts down but it never really worked. So I made it more complicated so I’d really have to think about them. Then I make myself decide if they’re rational or irrational or whatever.”

You nodded. You didn’t really know what to say to that.

“Have you written any new music lately?”

“Yeah, actually. Here,” he said, searching in his journal again for a different page.

It was written in actual words, thank god. Except for the title. ‘Xrksivih.’

I hide myself behind lies

and force myself to be quiet

It’s easier to pretend

than to commit

Switching letters

Rearranging everything

Maybe someday

I can make my thoughts make sense

Where’s the code?

The answer key?

The answers to life

aren’t in the back of the book.

You looked at him after reading it. “I like it. It’s really interesting.”

“Thank you baby girl.” You were glad he at least still used your nickname.

“Feeling better?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you want to talk for a bit?”

“Isn’t that what we’re doing?”

“You know what I mean.”

“Do you want some food or something? A drink?” You could tell he was avoiding the problem. You sighed, rubbing your eyes for a minute.

“I’m good. We do need to talk though.”

“Can we talk later about it?” he asked. His voice was soft, quiet, and innocent. Like a child. “I just...want to be in bed.”

“Okay.” You would let him have this. To your surprise, he pulled you by your waist to lay next to him, his arms curled around you and body pressed against yours. You could feel him breathing. It was warm.

It was the first time you felt safe in a guy’s arms.

Chapter Text

When you woke up, the first thing in your consciousness was a bright blue mass of hair. You leaned away to get it out of your face, and realized you were in a room that you weren’t that familiar with. It seemed like you’d been there before, but you couldn’t place--

A groan from next to you. You looked over and realized it was Leigh next to you. You tried to slide out of bed, away from him...how awkward. What would happen if he woke up, saw you cuddle next to him? Even though you’d thought about cuddling close to him briefly, it was a thought reserved only for in your dreams.

But here it was, happening right here in your conscious mind. Pulling away was futile. He had you in a tight hold, arms pinned to your sides. He also took the invitation to use your breasts as a pillow, but that was neither here nor there. The silence filled the room and it almost felt too loud. For a moment the silence felt like static on a TV, scratchy, blaring, loud. You shook your head and that startled him awake.

“Wh--” he started.

“I uh--” you started trying to explain.

But Leigh didn’t seem to care. “G’mornin’, baby girl. How’d you sleep?”

“...Pretty good, I guess,” you said hesitantly. It was one of the best sleeps you’d had in your life.

“That’s good. I slept pretty good too. Want some coffee?”

“Sounds good.” He detached himself from you, and rolled off the bed towards the kitchen. You followed silently. He began his morning routine and you naturally fell into it. It felt like you were supposed to be a part of it and--

Stop. You shouldn’t think that way about him. You’re just friends. You knew that he wasn’t interested in you, so there’s no point in thinking about it and hurting your own heart. You shook your head again, and he spoke.

“How do you take your coffee?”

“Cream and sugar,” you replied.

Leigh made you coffee silently, before handing it to you. “You hungry?”

“I’m good for now. I can always grab something on the way back.”

“Sounds good.”

You could tell he was trying to avoid talking to you about yesterday. But you knew you also would have to. It would only prolong the inevitable if you didn’t talk about it. You headed towards the couch and sat down slowly, waiting for him to take the incentive and sit next to you.

When he did, you brought it up. Quickly. Like pulling off a bandaid. “So, what’s been going on?”

He didn’t want to talk about it, and you could read it on his face. You tried to give him the time so he could come up with the way to say it. “I...told you already that I have...what I do.”

“Mhm,” you said.

“But I...dunno. The doctor said there’s no real cause for it. Like, it’s not hereditary, so they think it might be an imbalance in my brain which is why I’m taking medications and stuff. But uh. They don’t really know what to do to stop it other than the medication. They think I should...” he trailed off.

“Take your time,” you said, quietly. You didn’t want to rush him.

“They think I should try to meet new people. They told me that when I was diagnosed. So I...”

He was avoiding whatever it was.

“What?” you urged.

He sighed. “I started talking to you because they told me I needed to meet new people.”

It hit you like a ton of bricks. He hadn’t talked to you because he was interested in getting to know you. He started talking to you because his doctor told him to. You weren’t his friend. You were an excuse. You were some cure for his illness. You were nothing but a--

“(y/n), I started--”

“Stop.” You cut him off. “Am I just a way for you to,” you held up air quotes, “get better?” When he didn’t reply, you continued. “Am I just some meaningless cure for you?”

“No, that’s--”

“Don’t lie to me,” you said. You were tired of guys lying to you. Cheating you. Making you feel worthless because you couldn’t do anything to stop them. “Please don’t lie. I can’t...handle anymore lies.”

“I didn’t befriend you because of that.” He stopped. Went back. Started over. “Well, wait...at first...I did. I befriended you because you were sitting by yourself, so I figured you wouldn’t mind having someone to talk to. But now that I’ve--”

“So I am? I’m just your doctor’s prescription?”

“You were at first!” he says, exasperated. “Please listen to me.”

“Leigh, I can’t believe--”

“Listen to me,” he said. “Please.” He took your hands in his. “You were my doctor’s prescription at first. But now, I can’t imagine my life without you. I can’t imagine it. I don’t want to. I want you to be in my life. You’re one of the most interesting people I’ve ever met, and that’s mostly because you’re so different from me.” You watched his face. His eyes were soft, and he moved closer to you. Was he going to kiss you? Oh god, no he wasn’t. He’s not interested in you--

He leaned closer, and you turned away. Scooted back.

“Leigh, I...”

“I’m sorry,” he apologized. Why was he apologizing? What did he do?

“You don’t have to...apologize, Leigh. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I...,” he started, then stopped. Started again. “I didn’t act the way I should.”

“What do you mean?”

“I let my feelings get the better of me. I need to....” Stopped again. Every thought from him now was so incomplete. “I’ll be better about that.”

“You don’t have to...control yourself around me. It’s okay. If you need to talk, then talk. I don’t mind.”

“It’s not...fair to you.”

“Friends help each other. You have no reason to stress about this.”

He shook his head. To him, this probably seemed so illogical.

“Suzy and Arin are your friends, right?”

“Yeah.”

“What have you told them?”

“I mean...they know about me as a person, but they don’t...really know about me.... I keep my feelings far away from them.”

“Why?”

“I don’t want them to hate me.”

“They would never. They’re your genuine friends.”

“But they’re...”

“Leigh, please listen. They care about you.”

He sighs. Looks at his hands. Then he stands up, and goes to his room. He pulls his journal out and a pencil. He wrote for a bit, and you didn’t read what he wrote. You didn’t want to invade his privacy. He didn’t tell you what any of it meant, but he still showed you the page.

Zirm zmw Hfab zivm'g blfi uirvmwh. Incorrect.

Gsvb'oo yvgizb blf rm gsv vmw. Undetermined.

Blf xzm'g gvoo gsvn zmbgsrmt. Correct.

Hsv rh obrmt gl blf. Undetermined.

Blf xzm'g gifhg svi vrgsvi. Possible.

Rh hsv ivzoob blfi uirvmw vrgsvi? Probably.

Wl mlg gvoo svi sld blf ivzoob uvvo. Correct.

You had no idea what any of it said, but you nodded.

“Do you see why talking about my problems causes more? I have to sit here and record hours of thoughts that ran through my head because of the conversation we had. I can’t control it and it’s so...fucking annoying. I just can’t...keep track of it all. It’s easier when it’s only my thoughts.”

“Leigh, I...” you started. But you realized you’d never really be able to explain your stance or explain what was going on. “I...didn’t mean to make things...hard for you.”

He started writing again.

Hsv lmob nzpvh gsrmth wruurxfog uli blf. Undetermined.

Hsv rh gibrmt gl sfig blf. Undetermined.

Hsv dzmgh gl sfig blf. Undetermined.

Vevibgsrmt hsv wlvh rh z orv. Possible.

Hsv rh obrmt gl blf. Possible.

Hsv wlvhm'g xziv zylfg blf. Incorrect?

“I can’t make these thoughts go away,” Leigh said after a long time.

“I know.”

“(y/n)...I...think maybe...I don’t know.”

“What?”

“I don’t know. Never mind.” He stopped himself. He couldn’t say whatever it was. You didn’t want to push him, no matter what confession it may have been. A long, long pause.

“Do you want me to go?”

The innocence and sincerity in his next words shook you to your core.

“Please don’t leave me.”

You nodded slowly, opening your arms to him. Leigh moved closer, curling close to you and you felt hot tears down his cheeks. Running your fingers through his turquoise hair, you tried to soothe him.

“Shhh... It’s okay. You’re okay. It’s hard, but you can make it through this, okay? Shh... I’m here.” And you were. You were there for him. Always.

He kept crying, and you held him, rocking him slowly. You started to hum, and a song came from you that you’d forgotten. It was a song your mom always used to sing as a lullaby when you were younger. A calm, sweet, soothing lullaby.

Stars, in the dark night

Shine just as bright

They’re looking down on you

Hoping, believing, rooting for you.

Everything seems so hard now

But, baby, just wait awhile.

It’ll all work out

In the end.

He cried on your arms for a long time, your shirt long since soaked in the salty tears. You didn’t mind. Nothing mattered except being there for him. You rocked him gently some more, humming the melody of that lullaby to him until he quieted. You realized he’d fallen asleep in your arms, face resting against your shoulder. Fast asleep, he looked peaceful. He looked like nothing was hurting him, like the demons in his head had quieted enough to let him sleep.

That peacefulness was left behind as he whimpered softly.

“Leigh?” you said. Your voice so soft, gentle. Like talking to a puppy.

He didn’t say anything, just whimpered again, his face scrunched in pain.

“Are you okay?”

He started crying. In his sleep. His voice wavered as sobs worked their way from his throat. Pulling him closer, as if that was possible, you spoke more. “Leigh. Leigh, I’m here. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

The sobs formed to words as his subconscious brain processed. “(y/n)...”

“Yes, I’m here. I’m right here.” You rocked him gently some more. Maybe it would help. Anything was worth trying.

“(y/n).... I c-can’t...”

“What can’t you do? Whatever it is, let me help you.”

“I can’t tell you...what’s...”

“What? What is it?”

“I can’t tell you how...I feel...”

This stopped you dead. You couldn’t tell him about the things he was muttering in his sleep. You had to wake him up.

His chest heaved. He was hyperventilating and you were trying to wake him up, ignoring your own racing heart to help him.

“Leigh, wake up.” You shook him, softly, not too hard. “Leigh, I’m here. Please wake up.”

He didn’t stir and cried harder. His voice was keening now, loud and filling the room. You ran your fingers through his hair.

“Leigh... please. You’re okay. I’m right here. Everything’s okay. Please wake up.”

He woke with a jolt, looking around. His eyes were dazed, confused. He forgot where he was for a minute, before sitting up and moving almost to the other side of the couch.

“...S-sorry.”

“You don’t have anything to be sorry for.”

“I didn’t...mean...”

“It’s okay.”

He looked at you for a long time. “Do you want to go out? Grab a bite to eat or something?” You knew he was trying to avoid realizing that he’d fallen asleep on you, and been crying and mumbling in his sleep. You knew whatever his dreams were...they were more nightmares than anything. You knew that. You didn’t want to make him have to think about it. If he asked what he’d said, you’d just say he’d said your name. You didn’t need to know how he felt, and you weren’t going to try to think about it. You weren’t going to pretend that he liked you when he didn’t. Telling you how he felt really would only be telling you he didn’t like you, that he wasn’t interested.

As you drove, him sitting in the passenger seat of your car, you tried not to think too much. He sang along with the radio, and you pulled up to a restaurant he pointed out. Parking, you looked at him.

Leigh spoke with a whisper. “I’m...sorry.”

“It’s okay. I promise.”

Chapter Text

A few weeks later, Leigh invited you to another show of his. He asked you to come by a bit early, though you didn’t know why. When you arrived, you sat across from him at one of the tables. He had papers all around him. When he caught your eyes, he smiled gratefully at you.

“Hey baby girl.”

It felt good when he called you that. It had been awhile since he had.

“Hey, Leigh. What’s up?”

He gestured to the papers. “Trying to pick songs for the set. I wanted to know which new one you think I should do.”

“Oh! Which ones should I read?”

“Nope, that’s part of the surprise. Titles only, and you can’t read the lyrics.”

You wondered why he was being so playful now. You assumed his medication had been helping more now that he was making an effort to take it. You texted him every morning and night to make sure he took it.

“Alright, alright. Tell me the titles.”

Leigh smiled at you, before letting you read the titles. His hands were carefully placed over the lyrics so you couldn’t read it. You picked one, and he nodded. “Good choice. I like that one a lot.” You were excited for his set, and spent the time before he had to go just aimlessly chatting. It felt like so long had passed since he’d cried in his sleep, since he’d asked you to never leave him.

He stood up on stage and you felt that magical stage presence again. His eyes were never far from yours, and his stare captivated you. Leigh introduced himself and the band, and went right into the songs.

Then he spoke, after a few songs. “This next one was a recommendation from someone very close to me. I hope you guys will enjoy it as much as she will. It’s called Tightrope.”

Leigh’s voice fluttered out. It was sincere, honest, and raw. It seemed to just be Arin’s guitar with his voice. Occasional drum hits.

I’m walking borderline,

On the tightrope

between hurt and fine.

But it’s okay.

I’m on thin ice,

slipping and sliding

between not and nice.

But it’s okay, baby.

It’s okay, baby

It’s okay because I’m with you.

The closer I am to you,

the closer I am to fine.

A new song. You loved it. His voice sounded beautiful, and you wished you could hear it forever. Leigh and his band played a few more songs, and then he came off the stage, sitting not across from you but next to you.

“How did you like the set, baby girl?”

“It was really good. You always have such a presence on stage.”

He smiled shyly at you, bashful with a bashful smile that reached up to his eyes as he looked down in his lap. “Oh, stop it!”

“I mean it!” you insisted. And you did. He always, always captivated you. Not a day went by that he didn’t. He smiled wider still at you and for a moment, you could forget the things that had happened in the past. All that seemed to matter now was that you were with him and he was with you. Just together in a dark bar, sitting hip to hip and talking about nothing.

As you were sitting there, Leigh spoke up again. “Do you wanna go back to my house? Arin, Suzy, and a couple others were going to just hang out.”

You paused for a moment. “Sure.”

~*~*~

The party scene was more overwhelming than you had anticipated. A few of Leigh’s friends were drinking, and Arin was busy smoking some drug. You didn’t know what it was, and didn’t ask. Leigh was nowhere to be found. Suzy was sitting next to you, avoiding the drugs and alcohol because she had agreed to be the designated driver for the night.

You were overwhelmed. This was entirely not your scene. You didn’t know why you came to this party. The only reason you had was because Leigh had smiled at you, asked you with a sweet tone and instantly you followed him. You’d always follow him, like a lamb and shepherd. Your eyes closed, and you sighed. Why did you come here? You weren’t welcome here, anyways.

Suzy’s hand was on your arm, and she pulled you to stand. “Hey, (y/n), you wanna go outside for awhile? It’s a bit stuffy in here.”

You nodded, faster than you realized it, because god you wanted nothing more than to get out of that room. Somehow she read you like a book and knew you wanted to get out of there. She led you to the front porch and you both sat there. Crickets and cicadas chirped in the night, and the moon was a sliver now. A gentle breeze rustled some of the trees.

“Feeling better?” Suzy asked you. She just knew.

“Yeah. It feels good to get out of there.”

“I get what you mean.” Maybe she knew you meant a bit more than you were leading on- that the party didn’t just feel suffocating because of the drug smoke. She was quiet for a moment, then spoke, “How’s Dan been doing?”

You were confused for a second, then remembered, “Oh...uh-” You knew his mental disorders were not your story to tell. “He’s doing fine.”

She nodded. “That’s good. Arin hasn’t talked to him much recently. He’s been hanging with you more than him.” You wondered if for a moment this was to make you feel guilty, but she stamped that thought, “Not to make you feel bad, of course. I’m glad Dan’s found another friend to lean on. You two seem really close.”

You just nodded. You didn’t know what else to say.

Suzy was fine with that, and just kept talking. “I wanted to ask you something, though. It really seems like you...aren’t a part of our crowd. I don’t mean that- like, you can’t be a part of our crowd. I like having you here of course, but I just was thinking. You and I aren’t really...similar. You’re much more of a good girl and we’re...well, we’re bad kids. We don’t do good things. I just- don’t really know why you’re letting yourself into our group.”

“I just really like you guys. After the whole Caleb thing, I hadn’t made many friends. You guys seemed cool with me, which made me comfortable to be around you guys.”

She nodded. It was a lame answer, but she was satisfied enough with it. “And uh- what’s going on with you and Dan?”

“Well- wait what?”

“You and him hold hands a lot.”

“That’s because I don’t like to be alone on the streets.” And because he always held yours first- didn’t want you to let go.

“You’ve met his parents.”

“Yeah, but it wasn’t like that. It was just-”

“Okay, okay. You don’t need to be defensive. It’s okay. I just didn’t know if you had feelings for him.”

This hit you like a freight train. Were you obvious? Did everyone know you had a crush on him? The thought made you sick. You thought you weren’t that obvious. You thought everything was fine.

“I don’t know if you do,” Suzy said. “But I just want to let you know he’s pretty sensitive. I’m sure you know that but...stuff gets to him easily. When something or someone means a lot to him, he puts his whole self into it.”

You saw a car’s lights start to come up the neighborhood, and Suzy asked if you wanted to go back inside yet. You shook your head. You wanted a bit more fresh air. The night was cool and comforting.

The car drew closer- a cherry red Dodge Charger.

Your heart sunk to your knees, but you were speechless to let Suzy know what was going on. The car slowed to a stop in front of the house. A guy and a girl got out. One of them had a dark black streak in her blonde hair- almost a reversal of Suzy’s hair, and the guy had long, greasy black hair.

They approached you quickly, and Suzy put an arm in front of you. “Can I help you two?”

The threatening demeanor of Suzy didn’t faze them. “Just go inside.”

“Why?”

“Leave the bitch, and go inside,” the girl said.

“No.”

“I would if I were you.”

“Why should I?”

The guy stepped forward and you heard the sound of a switchblade popping out. “Because you don’t want to become closely acquainted with this.”

“Suzy,” you said, voice curt. “Go inside.”

“What, and let you get stabbed to death?! Hell no!”

“Go inside. I have to take care of this on my own.”

Suzy stood, slowly, not wanting to let you be alone. She went inside.

You had to talk to them. You knew Suzy was going to call for help.

“I don’t know what you guys want from me.”

“You got Caleb stuck in jail. We told one of our guys we’d give him a virgin teenager in exchange for his bail.” Everything was falling apart. Somehow you went from an abusive ex-boyfriend to being offered into some human trafficking circle? Oh god. You heard the sounds of sirens in the distance. The two members of Caleb’s gang seemed unphased. “So either you come with us willingly, or we can make you come with us.”

“Why me?”

“Because you’re a bitch. You put him in jail. You’re a virgin teenager. Caleb doesn’t give two shits about you anymore.”

These words stung. You were nothing but an object to them. You stopped talking, and studied their car. Red Dodge Charger. License plate DEK192. You committed this to memory as they grew closer, then began studying their faces, trying to remember them in case they ran away. Cops showed up and arrested the two of them, and one walked over to you.

“Miss, are you alright?”

“Yeah, I- yeah. I’m fine.”

“Would you mind giving us a statement of what happened.”

“I was sitting out here on the porch with my friend and those two just drove up in their car and started threatening her and me.”

“What threats did they say?”

“They threatened to stab my friend if she didn’t go inside, and they also said that they were going to kidnap me and put me into some sort of human trafficking circle going after virgin teenagers.”

“Do you know them? Did they use a weapon on you? Is your friend the owner of this home?”

“I don’t know them specifically, but they’re part of Caleb Wynn’s gang. They were threatening me because his previous assaults on me got him put into jail. The guy had a switchblade, but I don’t know about the girl. And no, but I know him. Do you need to talk to him?”

“We just wanted to ask him a few questions and let him know what’s happened, if that’s okay.”

“Sure. I’ll go get him.” You stood up, wandering around the house, looking. Suzy and Arin were making out on the couch, and the rest of Leigh’s friends were playing video games and ignoring the Frenching couple behind them. Leigh wasn’t there.

“Where’s Leigh?” you asked the group.

“His room,” one of them said. You didn’t pay attention to who. You walked upstairs and knocked on the door.

“Leigh? Can I come in?”

“Sure,” you heard his voice through the door. When you opened it, he was laying on his bed, stretched out, and looking incredibly content.

“The police want to talk to you.”

He shot up like a weed. “What?”

“They’re outside. They want to talk to you.”

He looked scared. Very scared. You took his hand and led him outside. He was gripping your fingers tightly.

“Here’s the owner of the house. Or- well, he’s the son of the owners.”

“Son, we just want to ask you a couple questions and let you know what’s happened, alright? You’re not in trouble.”

Leigh’s hand relaxed in yours, but he still held it. “Okay.”

“Son, have you been involved in any crime or gangs?”

“No, sir.”

“Do you know anything about Caleb Wynn?”

His fingers squeezed yours briefly, both for your comfort and as a release for the rage he had to control. “He hurt (y/n), but I don’t know him personally, sir. I only know him secondhand from her, and firsthand from the time he fought me in the park.”

“Ah, yes. That.” The officer seemed to remember this. “Last question, son. Did you have any involvement with Bram Messer?”

Leigh shook his head, “No, sir.”

“Okay. Thank you for your answers, Mister-” The officer stopped, searching for Leigh’s name.

“Avidan. You can call me Danny though.”

“Mister Avidan. Danny. Of course. Are you aware what happened outside your house at t9:45  this evening?”

“No, sir.”

“Your...” the officer stopped again for a moment, trying to decide what to call you. “Your...friend was threatened by two of Caleb Wynn’s gang members. They threatened her with a switchblade and were planning to kidnap her and put her into a human traffic circle. They also threatened a female friend of hers. They’re going to be going behind bars for a long time, but we wanted to make you aware of what happened on your property.”

“Thank you, officer,” Leigh said. You could tell he was trying to keep his emotions under wraps. “Is that all, sir?”

“Yes, son. Have a good evening, you two.” The officers drove off. Leigh looked at you and sighed.

“Can you take me back to my apartment?”

Chapter Text

You dropped him off at his apartment and he told you to go home and be safe. He didn’t talk to you for three days. Suzy called you.

“Hey, (y/n), how have you been?”

“I’ve been alright, how about you?”

“Fine, fine. I wanted to ask you something.”

“What’s up?”

“Have you talked to Danny recently?”

“No...?”

“Call him.” Silence met your ears after this statement, and you realized she had hung up on you. You didn’t know why she had insisted this, but you dialed his number anyways. It rang and he didn’t pick up. The second time, he did.

“Leigh?” you said, voice soft.

He didn’t say anything.

“Are you...okay?”

He sighed, and you could picture him running his fingers through his hair in frustration, “I don’t know.”

“What’s going on?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Leigh...”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he said again, more anger in his voice now.

You just shook your head and said, “I’ll be over in ten.”

His voice was exasperated now, “No, don’t, I--” But you hung up on him. Clearly something was wrong if Suzy had told you to call him, and now he was trying to avoid you coming over there. He didn’t want your help. But you had to give it. You had to help him. Because knowing he was there alone, fending for himself not against any physical assailants but against his own fucking head? That wouldn’t--no, couldn’t stand. You wouldn’t leave him out there to die, you wouldn’t leave him out there to worry himself sick

You had to be his knight in shining armor for once. All throughout your time with Caleb’s attacks, Leigh had been yours. He had stepped in and fought him at the library, kept you from him when he started stalking you, literally got into a fistfight with him when he tried to attack you in the park. He’d been there for you, and not once had you’d been there for him. A twinge of guilt crept up your back, right to your neck and the hairs on your neck stuck up. Why weren’t you there for him?

But you were. You were there when he had that breakdown in his apartment, when he forgot his medication and nothing seemed to matter to him. You were there when he told you his cryptic thoughts and how the only way he could cope was by coding everything into a cipher that he understood. You remembered the note on his door from some guys he lived by who bullied him. You were there for him in an entirely different way.

When you arrived at his apartment, you hadn’t realized you’d been driving there. Habit had taken you there. Drawn to him like a moth to a light, a string tied between you two that could never sever. You headed towards his door and found another one of the cryptic messages on his door.

Papa Alpha November Sierra Yankee [space] Alpha Sierra Sierra [space] Mike Oscar Tango Hotel Echo Romeo Foxtrot Uniform Charlie Kilo Echo Romeo [Dot] [space] Golf Alpha Yankee [Dot] [space] Foxtrot Uniform Charlie Kilo Echo Romeo [Dot]

It took you only a few seconds to translate it before you crumpled it into a ball and chucked it far down the sidewalk, away from Leigh’s door, away from where he had any possibility of picking it up. You refused to let these people hurt him anymore. You let yourself into his apartment to find him laying on the floor. Getting closer, you saw the bruises on his shirtless back, and his eyes were closed.

“Leigh...?” Your voice was hesitant, barely above a whisper. As if you were terrified to know what had happened.

He groaned. That at least meant he was alive. When you knelt down to look at him, he had blood running down his face from his nose, and a patch of his beautiful turquoise hair had been torn out. The patch was bloody too.

You placed your hand gently on his shoulder, “I’m here, Leigh. I’m here.”

He shot up quickly, realizing it was you. Thank god it was you . He almost tackled you with a hug, holding you tight, hard. He didn’t say anything, just started crying. You could tell he was so scared with how hard he was shaking and how hard he was crying.

“I’m here,” you reassured again.

“Please don’t go- I can’t be alone anymore, I just- I can’t. I can’t do it without help and I need your help- I want your help- I want- I...I want...” His words trailed into hiccups. You rubbed his back gently.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

~*~*~

You put antibiotic and some bandages on his wounds and made him an ice pack for the bruises. Almost immediately after you were done, and after you’d given him some painkillers, he fell asleep, head in your lap. You ran your fingers gently through his curls, humming softly. Somewhere in-between, your humming lapsed into singing.

I know things are tough

But it’ll be alright

The odds have stacked up

But it’ll be alright

Because darling,

I’m here with you.

You’re never alone

Because I’m here with you.

As you kept singing, he curled closer to you, sharing your warmth and trying to be close to you. He sighed sweetly, and he looked content- like everything was okay for now. But you knew when he woke up, you’d have to ask him about what had happened. You’d have to ask him why he was bruised up, why some of his hair had been ripped out, why he had a bloody nose.

You wondered if it had something to do with the note on the door. You wondered if it had something to do with the past that you still knew so little about. You wondered if it was part of his world, part of his circle that you’d only been in for a few months, only known him that long. You wondered what was going on, what you could do, how you could protect him from everything that was going on.

He slept for an hour, but it was a fitful sleep. You let him take hold of your hand as he spasmed in his sleep, moaning at whatever phantom figures were in his dreams. His nails dug into your skin, but you couldn’t bring yourself to pull away. He needed you. When he woke up, his wide brown eyes looked almost innocent, childish. He spoke, “How long was I asleep?”

“About an hour.”

“Wow...” This sounded surprising to him, for some reason. Maybe he wasn’t sleeping well.

“Did you take your medicine this morning?” you asked.

“Yes.”

You figured you couldn’t beat around the bush anymore. You had to just be blunt with him, and do it quickly, like ripping off a Band-aid. “What happened?”

He sighed. His eyes left yours and looked away. Leigh clearly didn’t want to talk about this, if that was any indication from his averting gaze. “I...It’s the guys again.”

“What are they doing? Why do they do this?”

“N-normally they just leave the notes and say stupid shit when I’m leaving my apartment... but today they uh, they forced their way inside my apartment and...uh, they beat the living shit out of me. They... do it because they think I’m weak.”

“What?”

“They used to call me a faggot because I never brought any girls to my apartment. It’s not that I didn’t want to, it’s that no girl has really ever wanted to be around me. I’m not-”

“I know.”

He sighed, letting that part of the argument go. “But I... don’t know why they’re still holding grudges.”

“How long has this been going on for?”

“Months. Probably two years or so.”

You looked down, trying to find some indication that this was a joke. When you didn’t find any, you sighed. “Leigh... have you told any of your friends?”

“No, but Arin knows because he was part of it.”

“What do you mean?”

“Arin used to help me fight them off, but I told him they weren’t bothering me anymore because I didn’t want him to worry about me.”

You sighed again, trying to let all of the inward upset you had go. You couldn’t be angry with him, because you understood where he was coming from. “Okay. I want you to tell Arin the next chance you get. He has the right to know, and you know that you can’t do this on your own.”

Tears welled up in his eyes, but he blinked them away and refused them falling. His brown eyes looked at you, wide and scared, but you knew he understood you. With a sniffle, he spoke, voice breaking, “I...need help. I can’t do it on my own anymore.”

“And that’s why I’m here for you. We’re here for you.”

A watery smile appeared on his face, lopsided and half-assed, but you smiled at him and caused his smile to grow into a grin. Looking at him, you wanted to kiss him, wanted to so badly that it ached but it wasn’t fair to do it while he was struggling with himself. That’s not fair, it’s not fair. Leigh adjusted himself so that he rested his head on your lap, and asked if you could turn on the TV. You switched it to some cooking show, and you both watched in a comfortable silence.

In that silence, your brain was working in overtime. What were you going to do about these guys? You supposed you could ask Suzy or Arin for help, but you didn’t want to do it without Leigh’s permission. It’s not fair for you to share his secrets with others. Not fair not fair not fair-

But you realized something. Leigh was beginning to open up to you, was starting to share his world with you when you’d forcibly shared yours as you both had been shoved into it against your wills. He was in your life when you needed him, without you even asking or really giving him a chance to answer that question you didn’t have the time to ask. Now you had to be there in his, be there to help him and guide him not only as he gets over his struggles with the asshole guys in his complex, but to help him ward off the struggles in his head. You were not aiming to be a cure, just someone there to help him when the cure could not be.

You knew he’d appreciate it a lot. He didn’t have to say it, because you saw it in the comfort and safety in his eyes, how he was so willing to let you be around him, let you run your fingers through his hair and patch his wounds.

But you knew, as well, that you couldn’t keep your feelings swallowed below anymore. He knew you had liked him, but did he know now? Did he even feel that way about you? You would imagine he didn’t. Without thinking, you blurt, “Hey, Leigh?”

“What’s up, baby girl?”

Now you had to say something. You couldn’t say i t though. It’s not fair not fair not fair- “Do you like shows like this?” And inside, you swore at yourself because you didn’t care if he was interested in the stupid cooking show that was on about people making dishes from specified ingredients.

But he took your awkward, stilted question into stride, “Uh, they’re not my usual thing, but they’re alright.”

Why wouldn’t you just admit it?

Chapter Text

Leigh was still trying to work through all of his issues, and you tried to be patient with him. Caleb hadn’t bothered you in quite awhile. It felt like things were working out, finally. Leigh’s friends were nice, nicer than you thought they’d be considering their appearances--a rough and tumble, rag-tag band of misfits. They all didn’t fit in anywhere else, what with the silver and gold piercings and the pastel pops of color in their hair.

But it felt like home to you. Felt good to be there with them. And maybe one day, you talked with Suzy for a number of hours about maybe getting your hair dyed. Or you talked with Arin about maybe getting a piercing. You weren’t too sure. You didn’t know. And that was okay. They were okay with you, pleated skirts and ironed blouses, being a part of their band of misfits because in your own way, you were a misfit too. You didn’t have many friends. Your only friends before this were your school textbooks. But now you at least had some friends. Some people to defend you.

You didn’t realize how important this would become until things took a turn. You drove your car to a fast food place up the street, aiming to get some food for you and everyone else. Just a couple boxes of terrible fast food tacos and a few drinks for everyone. All of them had thrown in some bills to share on the receipt, because that’s what friends did. You were waiting patiently in line while the poor employee double checked your order and handed it off to the cooks. You heard the bells ring for the door and didn’t think anything of it. They rang again almost as instantly as they had started and you turned around now. No one was there. Maybe someone just walked in, and walked out? Thought it was busy? Though, the place was dead on a Saturday night at midnight...

You shook it off. Nothing to worry about. The worker hands you two large boxes of tacos, and then looks at your full hands and the two cartons of drinks on the counter. “Uh, hang on, I’ll get someone to help you carry this to your car.” An odd courtesy that wasn’t usually given at a place like this. But since it was so late, everyone was bored and looking for something to do.

One of the assistant managers came by and helped you carry all your stuff to your car. You set the drinks on the floor of your car and the boxes of tacos on the passenger seat. “Thanks so much for your help.” The manager nodded and waved, before going back inside. You took a moment to appreciate the cool night air. As you were starting to get into your car, bright headlights flooded your car’s interior and blinded you. You squinted, putting your hands above your eyes as a makeshift visor to try and see through the bright lights. You climbed out of your car again, pocketing your keys and stumbling out. Closing the door. Locking the car with the satisfying double-beep and the flash of the lights to indicate it.

Everything was fine.

You squinted and saw a large pickup truck. Black with those overly bright LED headlights. The ugly purplish blue hue of the lights was starting to give you a headache as you tried to step away from where the lights were shining. Maybe their car’s alarm went off or something. But wouldn’t the lights be flashing? You were a little confused. You managed to find a spot where there wasn’t light and your eyes adjusted. What you didn’t expect to see was a bunch of men. Circling around you. It felt almost like a stereotype, like a musical with a gang snapping in a line down a dark alley. Except this wasn’t a musical, and this gang had the very real threat of hurting someone. That someone being you.

You tried to back up and ended up with your back against the wall of the building, brick scratching your skin. The guys were circling tighter, mischievous, evil grins on their faces. One of them was chuckling darkly to himself, a few other of them joining. The one in the middle spoke in a deep, baritone voice. It sent shivers down your spine. “So we heard you were avoiding Caleb’s orders, slut.”

You looked at him with confusion. Caleb was out of your life. Out of sight and out of mind.

“You avoided being taken off, and got two of us sent to jail. That ring any bells?”

Oh... that. That was a long time ago. Suzy and you had long since explained and got over it. You didn’t worry about it anymore. But apparently it was something to worry about, and something you should have kept in mind.

“So we’re here to finish what they started.” Two of them snatched your forearms, tugging you forward, surrounding you, suffocating you. “Now come with us. We’ve got to get you to Bram. He’ll love seeing such a pure little whore like you. Not deflowered at all....”

For the record, you had been deflowered in some ways, but not in the way they meant. Bram... the same person running that trafficking circle. You had no way of getting out of it this time. No Suzy to go inside and call the police. One of them put their hand over your mouth so you couldn’t scream. You were done for. You had no way of getting out of here. The lights of the truck went out as you were being pulled to another car. But the parking lot was quickly flooded with another set of headlights, the yellower lights of an older car.

You heard car doors slam, people get out. The men stopped, breathing quietly. As if that somehow could avoid the fact that they were shrouded in light, forcing you to a car. You squinted at the car. ...A green Impala...

You saw Suzy first. She smiled at you, but there was a glint in her eye that made you scared for everyone here. Arin had his fists clenched, ready to hurt someone. Holly was there too, able to take a night off to hang out with you all... but right now she was frowning. Barry, Kevin, and Ross were behind them, mouths straight lines. Anger clouded around them. But... where was...?

Leigh . He pushed through to the front, his beautiful turquoise curls... he was here... oh thank god he was here. “Put her down.” His voice was dark, angry, and commanding.

The guys didn’t look phased.

“Yeah? What’s a pansy ass little bitch like you gonna do?”

You could see his face fall, the confidence wilt for a moment. Arin stepped closer, trying to make sure Leigh remembered he wasn’t alone.

“You’re outnumbered. And you don’t want ti know what I can do.”

The guys snickered.

Then the fistfight began. You were dropped onto the pavement and everyone was punching each other, blood flying and teeth bared. You covered your eyes, not wanting to see this, but you could hear it. Could hear skin against skin, fist against the fleshy and not-so-fleshy parts of bodies, bones snapping and cracking. You felt someone touch your shoulder after what felt like hours. “Baby girl?”

It was Leigh.... Thank god. You pulled your hands away, and there he was. He looked wilted, nose bloody and the red liquid dribbling down his chin and onto his shirt. He didn’t seem to mind. “Are you okay?”

You shook your head. You weren’t. They hadn’t done anything to you but you were hurting... He pulled you close, sitting down on the asphalt and pulling you into his lap. He wrapped his arms around you and rocked you. It was just what you needed...resting your head against his shoulder and him rocking you. All his friends, bloodied up and shirts torn, sat around you, joining you in the closeness of comfort. You didn’t have the strength to cry. Leigh picked you up and set you in his car. Holly said she would drive your car back to Leigh’s house. Then, everyone else piled in his car, laying and sitting on top of each other as Leigh drove you all to his house. Suzy held your hand gently, reassuringly.

These people were your friends... your broken, bloodied, beat-up friends. But you loved them so much. When you got to Leigh’s house, Holly brought in all the food and set it on the table. Before Leigh could wander off to the kitchen to heat it up because it was cold, you spoke up to everyone. “I...I love you guys. Thank y-you.”

They all smiled at you. Wiping the blood from their jaws, noses, faces. They didn’t care about being hurt, bruised, as long as you were okay. That was what friends were supposed to be. Friends were supposed to stand up for each other, help keep each other safe. Friends were supposed to be worried enough about each other to check in on each other... even when they’re just ten minutes away. And that was what you knew. What you knew about Leigh and his friends. They were your friends. You didn’t feel so alienated anymore. Didn’t feel like they didn’t like you. Because they liked you. They wanted you around, enough to fistfight an entire group of guys trying to kidnap you. They cared. And that was exactly what you needed.

Your life was becoming more and more intimately twined with Leigh’s.

They got drunk, a few of them. Some of them got high. And they started drunkenly singing songs, yelling them and laughing. Someone started karaoke. Leigh was singing now and you were mesmerized.

God, my god,

You’re the prettiest girl I’ve seen

God, oh god,

Won’t you be my baby girl?

You’re all mine, baby

All, all, all mine

I’ll make your body sing

If you’ll let me....

Oh, baby, oh...

How you make me feel...

My heart’s thrumming in my chest

And I have to say--

His voice switches as he changes the lyrics, instead speaking this line. “I have to say, my dick’s pretty hard too.”

Leigh was so drunk. But it was funny. And he was giggling. You laughed too. Everyone was laughing at him and someone shoved him and Leigh laughed harder. Leigh was funny... goofy and everything you loved. And these people were your friends. And you were so glad they were.