Promise?

Chapter 2

Lyric remembered once that one of his mother’s boyfriends had asked him why he was always alone. Why did he never have friends to play with? Why was he always inside?

Lyric wasn’t sure how to reply to that. He had always thought that being alone was normal and that he was normal.

Because he was only six, he said he'd show him how it wasn't normal. So, he took Lyric by the hand and he took him to the town centre. He remembered sitting on one of the benches, ice cream in hand, as said boyfriend pointed out groups of people of all ages and sizes all laughing and talking and, because he was a child, Lyric thought he was helping him.

In reality, that asshole had taught him that he was a freak. He guessed that was one of the reasons he had developed asshole mode. Because he didn't want to be a freak.

Which was weird, because Billy had threatened him, he said he'd choke him and Lyric had told him that he would like it. Now, no sane person would say that. Wait, did that mean Lyric was insane? I mean, it would make sense.

It was around three in the morning, and Lyric was struggling to breathe. It was only Wednesday night and he was also really hungry, which in all honestly probably wasn’t helping his asthma. But he couldn't risk taking a cigarette and making it worse, but he couldn't sleep either. It was freezing and he was cold.

He missed school yesterday, he just stayed up there. He studied, and read a little but mostly slept. During tutor, Claire and her friends came up here. They talked about a lot of random things, and they laughed. It seemed like they were having fun.

However, Lyric noticed one thing. Max. No one besides Claire tried to include him in conversations. But, at the same time, he didn’t talk to them. Was he their friend? You’d think he was, he always hung around them. Lyric didn’t think they minded his presence.

Lyric was even brought up, mostly by Claire asking her friends if they'd seen him. Kaito ranted about how annoying he was, and Zeke told him to lay off. Lyric didn't think Roland told Claire about what he witnessed and Lyric still couldn’t get his head around it.

Why not?

He could have labelled him a freak. Well, more than he already was.

Would he use this to blackmail him? But he had no proof Lyric was going to jump. He could have just been looking at the field.

Taking in deep breaths, Lyric tried to control his breathing. It wasn't working. At this rate, he’d need his inhaler or he’d end up in the hospital again. And, with all the bruises covering his body, that was a no-no.

Maybe he could just try to sleep it all off.

Yeah, that's exactly what he was going to do. He was going to sleep my problems away.

~*~

"Did you really think sleeping would help you breathe?!" Claire yelled, exasperated.

"Yes . . . No. But I was f*****g tired and excuse me for choosing sleep over breathing," Lyric retorted, glaring at her.

Oh, quiet mode was over.

"Nice to see you still have some asshole left in you," Max said. Ah, Lyric thought this was the first time he’d seen him speak, even the others seemed to be a little surprised. One thing about him was, that he had an eyebrow piercing.

Did that not hurt?

How did he even do that?

"You, my friend, have your priorities straight," Zeke grinned. “You know, because of sleeping away his problems.”

Zeke was also weird, he had blonde hair but a couple of them were blood red. At first, Lyric thought he had someone's blood in his hair but then Claire told him that it was just colouring. Just like she told him, hers was coloured too. Hers was a purple that went blue. Lyric thought a unicorn had s**t on her head. He was sure, in fact.

Lyric took a deep breath, which was hard. "I know, I do. I am not your friend," Lyric spat back and Zeke rolled his eyes.

"I say we should leave him to rot," Kaito grumbled and Zeke elbowed him roughly, causing Kaito to smack him.

It was currently break, and Lyric had earphones on. He didn't hear Claire and her friends coming up and Claire was witnessing him struggling to breathe.

Lyric didn't like having asthma attacks around people.

It made him feel weak. It was weak. He’d been bullied because of his asthma. ‘What do you mean you can’t breathe?’ ‘f*****g freak’, ‘creep’, those were just some of the many things he had been called.

"Just use your inhaler," Roland drawled out as he fiddled with his phone.

"What? Really I hadn't thought of that. Oh. Wait, I did and I've run out."

"Get some f*****g new ones then, don't get pissy at me, you assfuck," Roland snapped back, and Lyric glared at him and he happily glared back.

"I have to wait until delivery and if I want some from the pharmacy I have to get checked out by the doctor and then I'll get some."

"Go with your mother," Claire said as she zipped up her jacket. Today, she had black contacts which were freaky because you could not see her pupils.

"She's occupied," Lyric replied dryly.

"Then go with your dad," Zeke said, and he rolled his eyes.

"Ohh, sureee! Let me just go find myself a necromancer and have them raise him from the dead."

"Well, that's one way you could get them," Roland deadpanned and Lyric glared. He took another deep breath.

"I'll . . . Fine . . . Go," he muttered.

Wow, okay, so he was not fine. If sentences were getting harder, he’d either be dead or passed out in the next twenty minutes. It was a sure sign his oxygen levels were depleting.

"Claire, why are you looking at me like that?" Roland asked dryly. Lyric didn't bother them.

He had to stay conscious.

Just breathe. Wow, no then, Lyric. Let's not breathe.

Oh, god, which mode was he going to go into? He was pretty sure he was displaying signs of all three.

"Because Row, you have a brother who is older than 18," Claire began.

“Yeah, so do you."

"Mine’s at work," she replied quickly.

"What! No way? I am not dragging him into this! He just got out of jail. I'm pretty f*****g sure this is fraud."

"This what? Technically, we haven't done anything yet," Zeke said as he stared at the students down below. Lyric watched with him, they all seemed immersed in their conversation. No one looked up.

"Lyric, drink this. It's warm, it should help," Zeke handed Lyric his drink and he eyed it.

"Is . . . Drugged?" he asked as he eyed it again, also taking a sniff.

It didn't smell drugged, just chocolatey. Of course, even if it was, they wouldn’t say it was drugged and he was too out of breath to check, so he was going to ask straightforwardly. That, or maybe he was becoming slightly delusional with the lack of oxygen.

"No! It's not drugged. What kind of f*****g question is that?" Zeke asked, amused.

"A perfectly reasonable question for someone who's been drugged before," Roland said, and he glared at him and took a sip.

"Row, get Creed here so we can bullshit something and get Lyric his inhaler!" Claire snapped and Lyric looked up at the mention of my name.

But it seemed like they weren't talking to him, so he continued to watch his legs as he swung them around.

Roland?

Creed?

What kind of names were they?

They were weird. And that was coming from him and he was named Lyric.

"No! My dad will kill him if he gets his ass thrown in jail again."

"Row, just get his ass here. Your dad likes me! I'll bullshit something up just f*****g help, Lyric, look at him!" Roland rolled his eyes and eyed Lyric up and down. He grumbled something and took his phone out.

Just as he answered his phone, Lyric’s rang. Oh, no. He took a deep breath and answered. "Hello?" he asked quickly, moving my phone away from me and taking a deep breath. She couldn't hear him wheeze.

"You f*****g bastard!" His mother yelled. "You're a f*****g piece of shit."

"Mom, whatever it is — "

"I am not your mother," she interrupted.

Couldn't she let him finish his sentence?

"Oh, is that your mother? Gimme," Claire snatched my phone from Lyric and began. "Hello! Lyric's mother? Yes, it's Claire. I’m his friend. The thing is, Lyric is having an asthma attack . . . Oh wow. . . Really? Well, f**k you too," Claire hung up and handed Lyric his phone back. "Well, she's . . ."

"A b***h. I know."

"Okay. Can you get off the ledge? My cousin has asthma and he always ends up leaning back and forth and the last thing we need is you dead," Roland deadpanned, as he fidgeted with the leather bracelet he had on his arm.

Claire frowned but nodded. "Lyric, get down," she said. He ignored them both as he took a sip of the drink. It warmed his hands up, which was nice of it.

Lyric looked past his legs and onto the ground. The bell went, causing him to jump slightly. He thought he went forward a little, but someone grabbed his arm roughly. He snatched it back, eyes widening.

"Row, he doesn't like being touched at times," Claire told him and he heard him mutter.

Why at times?

That's what he was probably thinking. Hell, Lyric didn’t know half the time why he felt the way he did.

"Lyric, get down," it was Kaito's voice this time and he was not being patient. Patience was a virtue. He was fixing his beanie that sat on his messy black hair.

Lyric frowned. Why was he raising his voice? He didn't seem angry.

"Lyric, get down from the f*****g ledge!" Roland snapped and he glared at him. Lyric didn't like him now. He was being mean. Roland groaned. "Deal with him! I need to go beat the s**t out of Mario. Claire and Creed should be here soon. Get him down there."

"Row, wait!"

"Wait for what?!"

"He's not going to be able to walk all the way down."

"So?" he asked. Why was he always beating the s**t out of Anthony?

"I think she wants you to carry him," Kaito mused from beside Kaito.

"Like f*****g hell I am. Kaito —"

"I will strangle you if you even think that I will carry him." Claire was right. They did like to strangle each other.

"Just carry the f*****g guy! He's not even that heavy, I mean look at him!" Zeke snapped.

Why were they all angry?

"Jesus f**k, come here," Roland glared and Lyric moved away.

"Don't . . . That.”

"You need to let me carry you," Roland glared. Roland glared a lot. “Claire. He's your freak of a friend, say something!" Roland snapped at her. She walked forward.

"Lyric, it's me. Okay? I'm not going to hurt you." Lyric was not five, they had to stop treating him like he was five. "But you need to let Roland get you down to his brother. We need to get you your inhaler."

The world began to spin. Oh no.

"Grab him, Roland!" Claire screamed and Lyric felt himself falling. In which direction? He didn't know.

Hey, maybe he’d fall off the building and poof he’d be gone. But that was not what had happened. He fell onto someone.

Lyric wanted to scream. He needed them to get away from him. He was sure they were going to hurt him!

He wanted to shout but he couldn't, his body refused to cooperate.

He heard the shuffling of feet and then the door opened and, a few more, the last thing he heard was: "The f**k?! Roland, did you f*****g kill the guy?! He's cute too. Aww man, you killed a cute boy!"

~*~

Lyric woke up confused. He had a dream. He didn’t remember it much but it had something to do with Claire and Roland.

"You're awake!" Claire screamed, happily.

He stared at her and blinked. He thought he was going to the doctor. This wasn’t the doctors. Looking around, this was the hospital. The hospital bed, the same yellow rooms, the constant beeping of machines, the IV in his arm.

"By the way, we need to talk," she said and Lyric raised an eyebrow at her. "Either you're in quiet mode or just ignoring me. Hopefully, the latter, because we really need to talk."

Lyric wondered what about?

Oh, god. The bruises. He was in a hospital. They'd changed him and he was in a hospital gown.

Is that what she wanted to talk about?

Why was she still here?

No one ever visited him in the hospital. He was always alone and he’d wait until he got discharged and go be alone, at home. He never had visitors, even in the children’s ward. He’d see all the other kids with their parents, but no one came to visit him. It used to hurt a lot. But now, he was used to it.

Shuffling a little, he saw that all her friends were there, including a boy that looked like the older version of Roland, oh and Max. Yes, Max had his own category because he didn’t think they were friends. Maybe they were on the outside, but he didn’t think they actually were. “Hey! Cute boy is alive!"

Lyric looked around. Was he talking about him?

"Creed shut the f**k up. Go pretend to be straight at home. Do you know? Because of the homophobic dad we have?" Roland growled out, he was sitting on the chair beside my bed, his feet on the bed.

"Don't remind me, that asshole is the reason I'll never tell him or mama that I prefer d**k over pussy."

"Creed! Shut the hell up, you freak!" Kaito snapped as he pushed Creed.

"Oh, I know," Creed replied smugly, as he waggled his eyebrows.

"So, Lyric, you're going to have to be with Roland for a while. Just until your mother gets here," Claire told him as she ran a hand through her pretty hair.

What did she mean until his mother got there?

"Creed has to take us back so we can cover for your ass and Roland's," Zeke said, gently.

Why would they need to cover his ass?

He was used to being in trouble.

"You'll be fine," Max said. "If I know anyone, it's Roland and he's in a pissy mood and, since you're in quiet mode, you'll both live,” Max whispered. But see, at that statement, Roland rolled his eyes and Max looked hurt.

Zeke awkwardly coughed.

No, what did they mean until his mother got there?

She'd never bothered him in the hospital before. She'd always send some random person to pick him up whenever he got discharged. She once sent her drug dealer. Let me tell you, that was a weird experience.

Everyone but Roland left.

Lyric was aware Roland was mean. He was a bully that scared everyone.

He turned to face Lyric, and he looked like he was going to say something, but he eyed the IV in his arm. "Does that hurt?

Lyric shook his head no. It didn't. He was used to it all, it would only hurt afterwards when the medicine finished. His eyes followed the IV up to the bag, which was half full, and it looked too big to be magnesium, so he thought it was simply some saline. Magnesium and constant nebulisers often dehydrated a person.

"What about now?" He pressed just a little under the cannula and Lyric frowned. It hurt.

But, why did he care where it hurt? Lyric snatched my arm back, staring at him.

"You tried to kill yourself.” Lyric didn't reply.

Did he?

He just wanted it all to end.

He didn't like pain. He had never liked pain. But when his mother's boyfriends started using him as a punching bag, he quickly learned to get used to it.

He didn't want to be used to pain.

He didn't think it was fair. Seeing everyone else so happy and him being the only one to suffer.

“You were going to jump. You would have if I hadn't left my earphones up there and gone back to get them."

Here we go, he was going to be mean and use it to make him do something.

"Why?"

Did he just ask why?

That was the first time someone had asked him why.

He didn’t know. He didn’t know.

He didn’t know. He didn’t know.

He didn’t know. He didn’t know.

He wanted it to end. Was that bad?

He wanted it to end.

"Claire wouldn’t tell me what kind of conversation she had with your mother, but I don't think it was a good one," he said, as he sipped his drink. "They said that your body temperature was really low. How long were you outside for?" He shrugged.

No, go away. He didn’t need you in his life.

Roland would leave.

Claire would leave.

Everyone would leave.

Lyric would be alone. He didn’t like being alone. He didn’t think anyone liked being alone. But he had to be, so he would not let himself get attached, just so that they could leave him.

Well, maybe some people did like being alone. In some way, he liked being alone. He thought the correct term was that he didn’t like being lonely.

Yeah, that was it. He liked being alone. He didn’t like being lonely.

"Are you just gonna sit there and stare at my face?" Roland drew out, and Lyric blinked. Oh, he had zoned out.

The door flew open and in came his mother. "You ungrateful little —" she stopped when she saw Roland. "Who are you?"

"Believe it or not, lady, I'm a Time Lord. The last time lord alive. See, it all started with the time war," Roland began as he stared up at her, face blank. She looked shocked.

What was he talking about?

He was human.

Lyric's mother stood there in an ugly sweater with flip-flops, her hair was greasy and she had no pants on. Her boyfriend was behind her in a dirty white vest with shorts on and they were both high. He wanted to cower in a corner, embarrassed. He was surprised she could leave the house in that state.

"Hold up, they are your parents?" Roland asked, looking at Lyric. Lyric shrugged. They weren’t. They had never acted like a parent.

"Like hell I am, I'm just waiting until he turns 18, then he's on his own," she spat as she smoked a cigarette.

"Lady, he's asthmatic. You’re not supposed to smoke around him," Roland deadpanned. Why was he sticking up for him? “And do you see the oxygen on his face? One wrong move and we all blow up.”

"Gyah, who let the hobos into the hospital?" Roland's brother asked as he walked in. "Hey, look, the cute boy is sitting up."

Who did he keep calling a cute boy?

"They're not hobos, they're his parents."

"You're shitting me," Creed replied, as he eyed them both with a look of disgust on his face. Lyric smiled a little at that.

"Yeah, no they're hobos, of course, I'm not shitting you, you stupid dick."

"So rude," Roland gave his brother the middle finger. “And mean."

"Can you all get lost?!" she snapped.

Lyric’s eyes widened, they'd leave and then she'd let him hit him. Lyric eyed boyfriend 23. He believed he was. He looked like he had some pent-up anger. He couldn’t wait to get out and Lyric was the perfect opportunity to do so. They hadn't even moved past the doorway.

Just because Lyric was used to the pain didn’t mean he liked or wanted the pain. "I can't. Claire made me promise not to and if I did, she'd probably get Chris on me."

"I thought he wasn't your parole officer anymore."

"You thought wrong. I f****d up.”

"Ahh, nice, say hi to Chris for me."

"I hate you."

"You get used to it."

"So, no lady, I won't leave, you’re welcome to make me though," Creed said as he took a seat on Lyric’s bed. He quickly brought his legs to his chest. Making sure not to touch the older boy. He couldn’t, wouldn’t let himself dirty the boy.

"Don't do that, moron, Claire said he doesn’t like being touched sometimes and this is one of those times," Roland said as he sighed. Was he annoying him?

"Also, what the hell have you done to this boy? He's scarred as f**k, I mean his neck's been strangled,” Creed asked as he eyed his neck.

"That was Billy," Roland replied.

"Billy who?"

"Billy Ray Cyrus! Which f*****g Billy do you think?!"

Who was Billy Ray Cyrus?

"Oh, no, but Billy's hands aren't that big. See? There are two sets of marks, I bet one would fit perfectly with either one of the hobos in front of us."

"Huh, who would have thought they'd let hobos in," Zeke said as he walked in, his friends behind him and behind Claire, another boy who looked like the male version of her.

"I swear to god, I'm innocent!" Creed yelled at the boy-like version of Claire.

He rolled his eyes.

"Whatever, Creed, can someone tell me why there are two hobos? Lyric, Pain in the ass one and two, my ass of a sister, her pissy Asian friend, her coffee-loving friend and pain in the ass, one's best friend here . . . Ah, s**t, they're not hobos, it's Andria and her current boyfriend . . . My bad." Boy Claire said he was a police person. He was wearing a police uniform but now his mother had hidden her cigarette.

It was too crowded.

The walls seemed to be closing in on him! Why were they getting smaller?

"I don't think the machine is supposed to beep like that," Max whispered, as he eyed the machine. Again, Lyric didn’t think anyone paid attention to him. But, he was right, they weren’t supposed to be beeping like that.

A nurse came rushing in. "He's feeling overwhelmed, I'm going to have to ask at least four people to leave." Oh, it was Maxine. She was a nice old lady with grey hair and pretty blue eyes.

She always talked to Lyric when she was on shift, even if she was on a different ward she'd make time for him and not make him feel lonely. Lyric liked Maxine.

"That's easy, how about you all leave? I need to talk to Lyric before he changes modes," Claire said.

"Take him! Oh, and once you're out, stay out for two weeks," mother's boyfriend snapped.

"What does he mean?" Roland asked as he glared at him. Lyric shrugged, pretending not to know.

"Have fun. We're leaving.” She grabbed her boyfriend's arm and the two of them left. Maxine left waving goodbye, promising she'd be back soon.

A minute later, only Roland, Claire and Lyric were left. "Row, that means you too."

"No. I'm staying."

"Why?"

"Because I am."

"I am too tired to complain," Claire muttered.

"First of Lyric, that last sentence, what did she mean?"

Lyric shrugged. "Don't shrug! You know what she was talking about," Roland said. He shrugged. He thought that action seemed to piss him off more.

"Row, calm your ass down."

"The phone call I had with her, she was screwing her boyfriend. Was she going to talk to you like that?" Lyric didn't reply.

"Lyric, I need to know," she whispered gently. He wouldn't get close to her, or her friends or Max.

She was way too nice.

She would leave or she’d want something.

He didn't reply again. "Okay, let's do it like this. You ask me a question we answer, we ask you a question you answer." Lyric thought about it for a second. He nodded. He had so many questions that needed answers.

Both Roland and Claire seemed to smile at that. Claire's was bigger but Roland's was . . . nicer. Lyric liked Roland's smile.

"Okay, us first. Why was your mother f*****g her boyfriend while she rang you?" Claire asked cautiously.

Lyric didn’t know. She regularly f****d her boyfriend when she rang me. Lyric took out his phone and he typed: "I don't know."

Okay. His turn. "What's a time lord?" Lyric turned the phone so Roland could see what he had typed. Roland read the words and laughed.

Why was he laughing?

Lyric was serious.

He frowned, he needed Roland to stop laughing at him.

"A time lord is a . . . Creature. They look human but are hundreds of years old and have two hearts. They regenerate when they die, they also have a TARDIS,” Roland said. “It's from Doctor Who?'"

Confused, he typed: "Doctor what?"

"Not what. Who. Doctor Who. It's a show." Oh, he understood now. He nodded at them both.

"What did she mean, when she said that you're going to be on your own when you turn 18?" Roland asked this time.

He was sitting in the chair beside him and he looked pretty. His green eyes were really pretty, but today they had eye bags, they also seemed . . . Darker than what they did on Monday. Maybe because the light was hitting them nicely.

Oh, right, he had asked a question. What she meant by that was that the moment Lyric turned 18, he would no longer be living with her. She'd get rid of him sooner, but her side of the family didn't agree. So it was complicated.

Instead, he typed, "When I turn 18 I'm leaving."

"Leaving where?" Roland asked, quickly. Did he think he meant leaving by heading up north?

Lyric shrugged.

His turn. “Who's Billy Ray Cyrus?"

"You seriously don't know who Billy Ray Cyrus is?" Roland asked and he shook his head no. "He's . . . remember Miley Cyrus?"

He quickly typed, "The one who came in like a wrecking ball?"

Roland snorted. "Yes, the one who came in like a wrecking ball, it's her dad."

Ohh.

"Now, the final question is what happened to your body?" Claire asked, cautiously.

He froze . . .

Please. No one was supposed to ask about that. He didn't like talking about it.

He didn’t like those memories.

Lyric bit his lip. Hard. Until he accidentally tasted blood. Roland reached his hand out but he smacked it away. Roland rolled his eyes.

He didn't want to tell them.

So, he typed his most common lie. "I'm clumsy."

~*~