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Promise?

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badboy
drama
twisted
highschool
small town
lonely
mxm
Writing Academy
turning gay
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Blurb

The story of a boy who makes promises and a boy who breaks them.

Lyric Hollingsworth is what you would call a 'weird' child. Famous throughout school for his 'modes'. There's asshole, sarcasm and quiet mode. His modes act as a barrier between him having any sort of relationship with humans, therefore, he is used to being alone. No one talks to him except Claire.

Roland Marygold. Notorious for getting into fistfights and breaking promises. One of his best friends Claire, talks to everyone including the weird kid Lyric. Roland's known for his sass, obsession with leather and breaking a boy's arm.

Fate seems to be playing tricks when Roland meets Lyric in a hazardous way. Claire demands that Lyric stay with their friend group. And it can’t be helped when the rest of the friends begin to like Lyric’s company.

A friend group consisting of: The bad boy, the coffee addicted friendly nerd, the Latina girl known for breaking hearts, the tall and moody Asian who never smiles, the boy who's always in trouble, the bad boy's brother, and the bad boy's brother's parole officer.

Throw in some teenage angst, secrets, a lot of swearing, an unhealthy amount of caffeine, fire, sexuality, finding out who you are, bullying and mental health issues.

What could possibly go wrong?

------

**UNDERGOING A REWRITE WHICH HAS NOT YET BEEN PUBLISHED**

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Chapter 1
Lyric wanted to know if today was a good day. Maybe. Possibly. Hopefully. He wasn’t sure. Sometimes, he was more sure of it than others, but even on unsure days. He found himself contemplating it. It wasn’t a difficult task, it really wasn’t. There were multiple ways to perform said task, and if done correctly, they would have the same result. Lyric over thought the idea as he walked to school, the pouring rain soaking him down to his core. He tried his hardest to keep his earphones dry. He’d spent so long saving up the money to buy them and would refuse to let the rain destroy the one good thing he had in his life. He hummed along to the music, which blessed his ears. "Oh, love, how I miss you every day when I see you on those streets. Oh, love, tell me there's a river I can swim to bring you back to me. Because I don't know how to love someone else." Lyric wanted to know if it was weird to desire a love like that? A love where you can rely on one another and love each other without a care in the world. To feel loved and wanted. To be someone’s first choice without even thinking about it because they loved you so much. To wake up to their face every morning, and just be content with each other. The destination was the bathroom, which was near to the side entrance he had entered through. Lyric kept his head down as he slipped into the room. He opened the stalls doors, making sure they were empty, and once realising they were, a sigh of relief escaped his mouth. He went over to the mirror, pulling his brown contact lenses out of their case. He slipped them in, giving his eyes a few minutes to stop watering and adjusting. Since it was pouring down, he didn’t want to get rain into his eyes. Not when he liked looking up, feeling the rain on his face. Lyric paused as he looked at his reflection. He didn’t hate what he saw, but he didn’t quite like it either. He had simple brown hair and odd coloured eyes, hence the brown lenses. He pulled his eyes away from the mirror, shrugging out of his wet coat and shoving it into his backpack. He would cry about the wet notebooks another time. His main notebook was kept inside a small ziplock bag. He protected it with his life. The bell went, especially loud in the bathroom, causing Lyric to jump slightly. He contemplated whether or not he should go to his class. After wandering around a little, skillfully avoiding the teachers, he arrived at his lesson, albeit a little late. “Mr Holloway, you’re late.” Lyric wondered what his mouth would do today? Stay shut or throw a sarcastic comment at Mr Dexter, a tall, middle-aged man with a raggedy beard and a ridiculous sense of fashion. “Clearly. And if you must know why before you ask, I’ll tell you, I was screwing your sister,” he deadpanned. Ah, so neither quiet nor sarcasm, but an asshole’s reply. Mr Dexter didn’t say anything but did glare as Lyric took a seat beside the girl with ever-changing eyes. Everyone claimed to have never seen her real eye colour. Some said her natural eyes were blood red, which Lyric found ridiculous. But today, her eyes were blood red, reminding Lyric of Satan. “Clearly,” Claire whispered, once Mr Dexter began teaching again. “You’re in asshole mode.” Lyric ignored her, taking out his notebook, and leaving the ziplock in his bag. He opened a fresh page and began drawing some messy mushrooms. He wasn’t sure why, but he wanted to draw them. Writing and drawing helped calm Lyric down. It helped him release everything he was bottling up inside. Many days, he’d wake up and feel nothing. Other days, he would feel as if he was drowning with the number of emotions he felt, Lyric and Claire weren’t friends. Well, Lyric didn’t consider her his friend. She was the type of girl who talked to everyone, the extrovert. Despite who her friends were. According to the entire student body, Lyric had three modes. The names of said modes were self-explanatory. There was quiet mode, everyone’s favour sarcastic mode and asshole mode. Fun fact: Asshole mode was when he got beat up the most. However, due to these modes, Lyric had approximately zero friends. No one could tolerate his modes. He, not even his mother could. It would explain the bruises on his neck that he got when he was strangled or the cigarette burns, maybe even the cuts and scars, because they thought it would be fun to watch him bleed. Oh, don’t worry. She wasn’t abusive. Her boyfriends were, but she did nothing to stop them. And since today was asshole mode, boyfriend 23 had strangled him, which he was now trying to cover with a turtleneck. Teachers and students had both seen the bruises, but no one helped. So, in a way, Lyric had given up. Every day was a stupid day. He had nothing to look forward to. He’d wake up just to wonder when he could go back to sleep. Lyric looked down at his page, he’d drawn a variety of mushrooms. He also scribbled a quote from ‘The Picture of Dorian Grey’ to be more exact, it said ‘you will always be fond of me, I represent to you all the sins you never dared to commit.’ Lyric had decided he liked reading, and would often sign out books from the library so he could read them. He was currently in the middle of a fantasy book. It was well known. The librarian loved it and said he needed to read it, so he decided to give it a go. He was enjoying it so far, he had a few favourite characters and hoped nothing would happen to them, but something probably would, because that was his luck. “Mr Holloway!” Lyric’s head snapped up at the mention of his name. He scowled when he saw it was only Dexter. “What? You homeless s**t?” he deadpanned. Lyric inwardly frowned to himself. “The answer?” “The question?” he said, raising his eyebrows. “Quadratic formula?” Lyric paused, he didn’t think he was in when he had taught this. He thought back to the two days he had missed this term, last Tuesday, because he had no energy to leave his bed and the last, last Friday, because he had gotten beat to the point where his body was so sore, he couldn’t move. Since this was the third week, he had probably taught them on one of those days. And from the smug look on his face, Lyric was correct. He felt the nudge on his knee. Looking down, he saw a piece of paper in Claire’s block writing. He didn’t need it, he already knew it, but it was a sweet gesture on her behalf. “Negative B, plus-minus square root of B squared minus 4AC all over 2A.” Mr Dexter stared blankly at Lyric, who stared back. He opened his mouth to say something but then decided not to, as he turned to write out what he had just said on the board. “You could tutor Kaito, Zeke and Roland,” Claire whispered, as she ran a hand through her ombre hair. She tried to look over at Lyric’s notebook, and slammed it shut. Lyric turned to scowl at her. “They’re your friends, not mine. Do it yourself.” She was in the same class as him, so just as smart. Lyric wasn’t a big fan of her friends, and he was pretty sure he wasn’t on their best friends list either. “Don’t you think I’ve tried! Someone always strangles someone, so far Roland has strangled Kaito the most. Zeke just screams at them to knock it off as he drinks his coffee.” “What about Max?” Lyric asked when he realised she hadn’t mentioned him. She shrugged. “He just laughs at them as he watches them beat the s**t out of one another.” “You wear seven-inch heels, beat them senseless. Threaten them, right, but say it calmly. Watch how they piss themselves.” It was Claire’s turn to scowl. “What is it with boys and violence? Seriously, I just want to meet a boy who isn’t stupid.” Lyric didn’t reply as he focused on the questions, answering them in his maths book. Claire continued to talk, and Lyric continued to ignore her. Once Lyric finished answering the questions, he put his head down on the desk. His lower back hurt, and his mother’s boyfriend thought it would be fun to sit on him for six hours straight, despite Lyric’s protesting. He was a heavy bastard and if Lyric moved too quickly, he would feel the sharp pains shoot up his back. The bell rang, and Lyric quietly packed his things up and left. Claire ran up to him. How did she manage to run in those heels? Only God knew. “Thanks for waiting,” she groaned, sourly. “I didn’t say I would.” “You need friends.” “You need to keep your head out of s**t that has got nothing to do with you,” Lyric snapped. Lyric felt his body thrown to the right, out of nowhere, hitting the lockers that lined the walls. He groaned, trying to blink the darkness away as he felt hands grip his throat. The loud ringing was drowning out the voice of someone yelling at Billy to get off of him. “I swore the next time I saw you, I’d choke you,” Billy spat, as he squeezed tighter. “And I swore I would like it,” Lyric said, smirking a little. Billy dropped him to the ground, he kneeled, throwing a few punches before any teachers could get there, he stood up and left. Lyric shook his body, a small groan escaping his mouth as he stood up. “Nope, I’m fine.” Lyric sighed a little as he heard a few students groan. He shook his head, trying to get rid of the pain and the black spots. “What did you do to piss off Billy?” Claire asked as he walked in the opposite direction of his class. Lyric decided period 2 would be spent under the bleachers, reading his book and possibly writing and or drawing in his notebook. First, he needed to get rid of Claire. “Claire!” Lyric’s head snapped in the direction the voice came from. Claire also turned to see who had called her. Lyric saw Roland and took that as his cue to slip away. Lyric dodged both students and teachers as he made his way outside. He was glad to see it had stopped raining. Jogging over to his spot, he settled down. Slipping his earphones on, he put his playlist on shuffle and grabbed his book as he continued reading. Around thirty minutes in, his music stopped as the phone rang. He sighed as he looked at the name. “What? I’m in school.” “Did you take his money?” Lyric’s mother shrieked. Lyric imagined her sitting on her lover’s lap, high off her ass and he hated it. “No.” That meant a yes. “Don’t lie,” she groaned . . . in pleasure? “Are you f*****g him right now?” he hissed. “Yeah, so? Don’t come back for the rest of the week. You can live off the money you stole.” “Wasn’t planning on it,” he deadpanned. “I’ve already been strangled twice today, I don’t plan to make it a third.” “Where did I go wrong with you?” she sighed. Lyric couldn’t tell if it was annoyance or bliss as he hung up. He shifted the neck part of his shirt to let his bruises have some air. Lyric thought about his predicament. It was Monday, so he couldn’t be in the house until next week. He would have to figure something out. But first, he needed to plan. He needed to figure out how to keep 20 for an entire week. Shitty weather was forecast all week, so he’d need something warm. Water. He would need water. Humans couldn’t go a week without water. As for food, he wouldn’t eat. That would help save money. If he got one, two-litre bottle, he could always refill it from the canteen. Now, he needed warm clothes, and he would have to sneak home to get his spare inhaler. The one he had on him right now would not last him a full week, especially not if he was going to be out. He thought about getting a cheap scarf. That way he would only be breathing in warm air. He needed to head to town, pick up the things and then make his way to the little s**t that sat in the corner of the roof. But his inhaler would be the most difficult part to get. “Claire! Is it him?” Lyric snapped his eyes open to see Zeke, a fairly tall boy with blonde hair and brown eyes. His eyes landed on Lyric’s neck and they widened. “What happened to your neck?” Claire came over, looking at him and she nodded. “Yes, it’s him. Thanks, Zeke. Remind me to buy you coffee. Now, get lost.” “Why?” he whined. “Because he’s in asshole mode and you’re you, and if you cry Kaito will get bitchy with me.” “I am not sensitive,” he deadpanned. Lyric blinked a few times, no one had said he was sensitive, so he guessed he was and he knew it too. Claire stared at Zeke, a bored look on her face. “You cried when Sherlock killed himself, you knew he was still alive.” “He died in front of John!” he said, eyes wide. “I cried because I imagined what John went through. His best friend killed himself in front of him. I’d sob if Kaito died, especially if he died in front of me,” Lyric looked at the two of them, slightly confused. Sherlock and John? As in Sherlock Holmes. He didn’t kill himself, did he? Claire stared before Zeke sighed, nodding. “Okay, good point, I’m leaving.” Zeke turned on his heel and left. “I’m avoiding you. Why are you here?” Lyric snapped, glaring at her. She ignored him, taking a seat beside him. Lyric’s glare deepened. “Don’t do that, get up, bitch.” She rolled her eyes. “Now, Lyric. Is that the way you talk to your only friend?” “You aren’t my friend, leave me alone, freak.” “That’s a lot coming from you.” “I know,” Lyric deadpanned. “Leave.” Claire pouted. Lyric paused at how pretty she looked. Everyone knew Claire was hot, they knew it and so did she. She got around a lot, she was hot, smart and even nice at times. Lyric had even heard the rumours that she had ruined multiple marriages. Lyric made a face. So, maybe he could use her. “Get up,” he said, as he stood up, packing his things away. “Follow me.” He didn’t need to turn to check if she was following him, he could hear her shoes hitting the ground. They walked to the back of the school and climbed the gates. “Where are we going?” she asked, as they both walked side by side out of the school grounds. “My house,” Lyric said. “There’s a high chance my mother’s current boyfriend will open the door. I need you to seduce him.” “Why?” she asked. Lyric didn’t reply. Claire would distract Lyric’s mother’s boyfriend. Lyric would sneak in through the back door, and he would grab his inhaler and his cigarettes for when the hunger pangs began. He’d need to sneak into his room, hopefully, grab some of his warmer clothes and get out. When Claire realised Lyric wasn’t going to say why, she dropped the topic, and silently followed behind him. Arriving at his house, lyric points to the door. “There. Distract whoever opens it.” She smirked as she eyed Lyric and then the door, she tied her hair up in a loose ponytail, pulling some strands out as she walked to the door. Lyric didn’t wait to see their interaction, he began moving to the back of the house, and entered through the back. His mother never locked the back door, she was always too high to remember. Lyric walked through the door, he saw the cigarette pack on the counter and snatched it up, slipping it in his pocket. His eyes widened when he saw what was sitting on the opposite counter beside the knives. The asshole had stabbed Lyric’s inhaler canisters and all the salbutamol had escaped. Lyric shoved his fingernails into his palms, trying to distract him. He moved past his mother who was sleeping, naked on the couch. Lyric tip-toed past the current boyfriend. Claire, to her surprise, frowned a little but got the boyfriend distracted. Lyric opened the door, and he scowled as his clothes had all been thrown carelessly in town. Lyric was slowly beginning to panic. How would he survive a week without his inhalers? Without any warm clothes? Lyric rushed downstairs quietly and snuck back out the door. He went to the front of the house, waiting in the distance as Claire ran over. “That was awful,” she deadpanned, as she grimaced and Lyric shrugged. He would say he was sorry, but he wasn’t sorry, he needed to do what had been done, for his survival. When Lyric didn’t speak, she sighed. “Back to school, then,” she said with a grin on her face. “I need to stop by Costa. I promised the idiots I’d get them drinks, and I plan to win this year.” It jarred Lyric slightly, how she didn’t care that Lyric wasn’t trying very hard in the conversations, by now people would be sick of how one-sided it was and just move on. Lyric quietly followed behind Claire, lost in thought. He knew he needed warm clothes. So if he got a single two-litre bottle and bought some second-hand clothes, he would be fine. But who would he get his inhalers? He knew he wouldn't last very long in this weather without his inhalers. “Lyric, what do you want?” Claire’s voice seemed to bring him out of thought. “What?” he snapped. Claire rolled her eyes. “To drink?” Lyric's eyes widened. If he didn't have warm clothes, he could get a warm drink, it would keep his insides warm at the least. “Claire,” he said, he couldn't help the smile on his face. “You’re a genius! And hot chocolate.” “With cream?” she asked, and Lyric nodded. “Why am I a genius?” “Because,” he said, not giving an accurate answer. “Did you get what you were looking for?” she asked, and once again, Lyric didn’t know how to feel. Why was she so bothered? It annoyed Lyric a lot, but it was sweet at the same time, but more annoying. “You live half an hour away from school, do you walk every day?” He nodded. “Isn’t that bad for your asthma?” He nodded once again. “Are you changing modes?” she asked, as she eyed him. Lyric shrugged. He didn’t know why it happened, or what caused them to change. But he knew each mode lasted different amounts of time, each time. The longest time for each varied. Asshole’s mode longest time was a month; sarcasm mode lasted six weeks. And with the longest being quiet mode, which had lasted six months. The two of them silently went back to school, Claire seeming to talk about everything and anything, her friends were brought up, and so was her brother. Claire spotted her friends, and when she turned to say goodbye to Lyric, he was already gone. Lyric knew he wasn’t going to get attached to her or her friends. People left. That's what they did. So he would save himself pain by not getting attached. The majority of the student body was in form. A few were loitering around in the halls, they all ignored Lyric as he walked past to the roof. He was the only one who had the key. He had managed to get it from the janitor when he was in quiet mode. He knew the janitor had pitied him, but it got him access to the one place no students would be, so he was fine with it. He made his way up, holding the warm cup in his hands. He jogged over to the shed and went inside, pulling on the light switch as the bulb flicked and came to life. He was relieved to see the blanket he had used previously was still there, in a crumpled mess. Lyric put his drink down as he remembered he had an inhaler in there somewhere. He scrambled around and found the small blue inhaler. He shook it but it turned out to be empty. He sighed, picking up his drink. He was about to step out of the shed when he heard the door open. He held his breath and closed his eyes tightly as he turned the light off. All he had to do was regulate his breathing. That was fine, he could do it. “Where’d you go when I helped you find the boy with the three modes?” that sounded a lot like Zeke. Lyric panicked slightly. Why were they on the roof? He wanted to know if it was only Claire and Lyric, or was the rest of the group there too? “I don’t like Lyric,” someone else said. “He has a big mouth on him and what kind of name is Lyric?” “Says you, Kaito,” Max said. Lyric recognised Max’s quiet voice. He was surprised he had somehow heard it. “I’m Asian. Kaito is a perfectly acceptable name,” he spat back. “Claire, why was his neck bruised?” Zeke asked, ignoring the arguing boys. “Billy strangled him.” They stayed on the roof all through form and break. Once Lyric was fully sure they had gone, he stepped out. He had finished his drink a while back and he missed having something for his hands to do. Lyric walked towards the ledge and slowly climbed up. Everyone was in class. He was sure no one would miss him. Hell, no one would even realise he was missing. Lyric believed himself to be unimportant. He thought he just existed in everyone’s lives. A side character that no one liked. Hell, not even he liked it because that meant they had some sort of feelings towards him, he was just there. He missed school frequently. So, to everyone else, it would simply be another day he wasn’t in. Would it be today? Lyric thought it might be. He was sure. He looked down, and it was so high. All he had to do was jump, and poof, he’d be gone. He hoped once he was gone, the feeling of being a ghost would end. Of being here, and not being here at the same time. All he had to do was take a single step. “What the hell are you doing?” A voice said from behind him. Lyric turned around, eyes wide. He frowned when he saw black hair and stunning green eyes. His right ear had been pierced multiple times and the only way he was seeing it was because of the sunlight hitting all the piercings. “Get down!” the boy snapped as he took a step forward cautiously. Almost as if what Lyric did next was important. Lyric thought it wasn’t. He would jump; he’d be dead. He would get down; he would be alive. “Lyric,” he said, dragging Lyric from his thoughts. “Get down.” He was still taking those small steps towards him. Lyric turned around and eyed the football field. He leaned forward, he didn’t panic, not in the way you would expect. He was relieved. He would have fallen too, but he felt the grip on his wrist. The boy pulled him away from the ledge and Lyric looked up at him, glaring. The sun shone down on him, and Lyric was startled, his green eyes were shining beautifully, almost as if a whole forest had been trapped inside his iris. Lyric scowled, pulling his arm away from him. “Why would you do that?” he hissed. “I was going! I was almost gone! I would have been free!” Lyric wanted to know why he wasn’t in class. The boy was supposed to be in his class. “What the hell were you thinking?” the boy hissed. Lyric shrugged. He had wanted to be free, and this was the way to do it. Lyric looked at him, this boy was pretty. He was so pretty it almost took the breath out of Lyric. He had never made eye contact with him before because he had always intimidated Lyric, but Lyric was hating himself for never having the courage to do so. “Don’t go quiet with me. Claire said you're in asshole mode.” Lyric still had his eyes glued on the male, the pretty male. The boy scowled. “Are you even listening?” Lyric blinked a couple of times. “Bloody hell, Claire said you were weird. She didn’t say you were suicidal. I need to talk to her about her friend's choice.” Lyric wanted to speak up, saying that Claire and he weren’t friends. That they were simply friends in her mind, and that in his mind she was more like an annoyance, but he couldn’t bring himself to get the words out. “You need food,” he said. “I dragged you down and you weighed next to nothing,” he muttered. He turned on his heel and left. He wasn’t supposed to be there. Lyric wanted to know if the boy knew he was staying in the shed. Did Claire tell him about his mother? Would he tell everyone what he saw? Lyric was panicking when the boy stormed back up to the roof. “Stop standing around like a lemon and follow me,” he hissed. Lyric blinked a few times, finding the boy to be very rude, he walked ahead, and Lyric followed behind him quietly. The boy was angry. Lyric wanted to know why he was angry. The boy stopped outside a classroom, and turned to look at Lyric. “Wait here.” He opened the door, and as it shut, he heard yelling. Lyric waited. Five minutes later, he came out with an angry-looking Claire. Lyric noticed the boy’s bruised, swollen knuckles. “Lyric!” Claire mused as Lyric stared at her. “Oh,” she said, to no one in particular. “He’s changed modes again. Wait, why is he with you?” The last question was directed at the pretty boy. “Claire,” he said, frowning. “I seriously question your choice of friends. He-” Lyric interrupted his statement by stomping on the boy’s foot. He hissed, as he shoved Lyric back, glaring. “He what, Roland?” Claire asked, a frown visible as she stared between both boys. “I thought he was your friend,” Roland asked. Lyric paled slightly. Where was he going with this? “He is.” "Don't you feed your friends until they throw up?" "I do." "Then go do that. I have to go beat the s**t out of Anthony." "Row, you said you'd leave Anthony alone,” Claire whined, as she glared at Roland. "You're right, I did say that." He nodded to himself, turned on his heel and left. "Right, Mr, come with me." Claire grabbed Lyric’s arm, and he snatched it away, glaring at her. "I'm just going to assume when you're in quiet mode you don't like being touched." Lyric didn't say anything and she walked ahead and he followed her. Lyric was scowling at the ground as he spiralled. Roland hadn't told Claire. Why? Would he use this against him? Probably. Actually, most definitely. Would he try again soon? Probably. ~*~

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