Author's comment: Well, sorry about this, but this is my very first Vs. The World story I have made, so sorry if not all of the information is correct, but hey, no one's perfect! So anyway, enjoy my rather depressing (it gets better in the end) Scott Pilgrim yaoi
Matthew was the least favorite of the League. They were all pretty bad people, but he was at the bottom of the Evil X's food chain. He sat by himself whenever they had little conferences, he didn't talk to anyone at all. The only people he actually conversed in conversation with were Lucas Lee and his new found friend Todd Ingram, who loved to bully him more than anything. To put it simply, he hated his life.
He would sulk in his bedroom whenever he was alone, and stare down at his notebook full of depressing poetry. If the day was really going on a roll, he'd walk through the rain with his hood slumped over his head, blocking his solemn face from the world.
If was April 6th, a cold rainy and icy morning in Canada. Matthew was being his old self, walking slowly to his favorite café. His eyes skimmed their way up the tall buildings and into the grey sky. Clouds populated the sky, seeming to form one huge mass of depressing raincloud over his head. Today, he felt like those clouds. Well, every day he seemed to feel like those clouds. He sighed deeply, and returned his gaze to the sidewalk.
He was utterly alone, like always.
He let out a large breath, seeming to almost enjoy the swirl of air that escaped his mouth. It was weird, wasn't it April? April's in the spring, and there was ice on the road. Before he could remember where he was heading, he was there. His eyes snaked along the café that he could practically call his home. He felt safe whenever he stepped into those warm walls. The warm couches and small fireplace and the way the people behind the counter smiled at him made his day brighten up.
But today would not be the same. Matthew walked in, hearing the cheery ringing of the bell as he stepped inside form the cold weather from outside. The wind nipped his heels before he entered the threshold of the café. Instead of the warm smile of the clerk at the counter, he was met with a dark smirk from the front.
"What a pleasant surprise." The snide voice sent a chill down his spine. It could only be one person. The person that had helped Matthew's depression greaten since he's been part of the Seven Evil X's. Todd Ingram was sitting at one of the tables near the front, a wide smirk on his face. His girlfriend was at his side, a barely visible smirk on her face.
"Well Ahoy there, Piiirate." Todd teased, leaning back in his chair. Matthew paused at the door, his eyes tired and his mind aching. He didn't need this, not now. Trying his best to ignore the bully, Matthew made his way to the counter and greeted the clerk.
"They don't sell any rum here, Buck-o." Todd sneered, his eyes narrowing at the man. Matthew sighed deeply, closing his eyes briefly. "Your jokes are immature and not even close to being funny. They're closer to idiotic than humorous." Matthew responded, waiting for his order to be finished. He made a plan up in his head to grab the coffee, pay, and get the hell out before things got any worse.
Todd frowned, and Envy lifted her nose in the air, as if disgusted with the Pirate's snide remark. "Watch it, kid." She snapped at Matthew, and went back to texting eagerly on her phone. Ingram rose slowly out of his chair, sliding the chair back to hit against the counter. His eyes darkened and his face grew stern. "Listen, punk, I'm the guy who can make little remarks. I'm stronger and taller than you, remember that. I have Lucas on my side, PUNK, we can kill you!"
Matthew's eyes flickered with doubt as Todd reached his full height, towering slightly over the young Pirate. Matthew lowered his head, and before Todd could sneer, he replied with, "There's a great product called 'toothpaste', maybe you should use it. Your breath could kill your girlfriend over there if you aren't careful." His smirk was small, but still visible.
That was when all hell broke loose.
Todd lunged at Matthew, but he anticipated the move and ducked just in time, catching his move with his foot and sending him sprawling on the linoleum floor. The clerk froze from behind the counter, and she backed up to the coffee maker across the floor.
Matthew sent Todd a grim frown as he went to grab for his coffee, but he felt his feet give way from under him, and was about an inch from slamming his jaw onto the corner of the counter. He rolled across the floor, trying to cushion the blow of the floor a little bit more, and tried to get up to make a run for the door. Screw the coffee.
But he was too slow, because Todd had grabbed onto his ankle and was pulling him back to where he was just standing up. "You're DEAD." He snarled, wheeling his foot out and kicking Matthew hard in the gut.
The pirate gasped, immediately curling into a ball to protect his stomach and his private parts as Todd sent kick after kick on his back and legs. "Why don't you just get away from Toronto, Matthew? No one here likes you and no one will ever love you!" The words stung, greatly, and Matthew felt all need to protect him fly out of the window.
He just laid there, his eyes gazing out across the floor as he felt the hard kick of Todd's heavy boots. If he could cry, he would have, but he felt dry inside. Todd's laugh echoed throughout the empty café, bouncing off of the walls and entering Matthew's ears like bellows from a monster. To Matthew, Todd represented the monster that lived in your closet, or under your bed. He was a scary creature of evil, and he would stop at nothing to drive you out of your mind.
Matthew took the blows to the back, face, stomach, crotch, anywhere, and just lay still. He stayed there until he heard Envy and Todd finally get tired of the constant abuse and leave to go and catch a movie. And even after he heard them close the door behind them, he stayed there. He stayed there on the ground, and let the tears slip from his eyes and wet the ground beneath him.
After getting home, Matthew stared out of his bedroom window into the starless night. His lip was bloody from the beating, and he could barely move. Life didn't matter anymore, and he knew that was a new thought now. That was where all light was headed, the farthest depths of depression, where rarely a soul could be rescued. He had reached the bottom, and there was no way he had the energy to crawl back up to happiness, light, even a weak little smile.
Nothing could get any worse…nothing.
But he knew things were going to get worse, just by the way his gut clenched when he even tried to be optimistic. It was his mistake of agreeing to join the League. It was his idea to forward that stupid goddamn letter to Scott. Now he was expected to brawl with that idiot next weekend at the Rock It. He felt like he couldn't even move to lie down.
How was he going to fight him…?
As he rested his head on the pillow to sleep, he thought about the future, and what Lucas and Todd were going to do with him during the next meeting. His heart gave a sickening lurch, and more hot tears met his vision. He was scared. He feared for his life…because he knew for a fact Lucas and Todd weren't going to be the ones to kill him. He just knew…
Things did get worse for Matthew at the next meeting. It spiraled so badly out of control; it would haunt Matthew's nightmares for the rest of his depressing life. The meeting was at one of Gideon's lavish clubs. The floors were as shiny and clean as anything Matthew has ever seen (and this is coming from the guy who lived on the street) and the walls were a majestic black, which were opaque so the neon lights behind them could glow throughout the room.
Leather couches were in every little corner of the club, and a dance floor was built into the middle of the room, with a large DJ up on a large stage with the Twins working out a nice dubstep base. Matthew had been fine for about 20 minutes of the party, leaning against one of the far walls, watching the girl (whose name came up blank for Matthew at the moment) and Gideon chatting it up near the bar.
That was when he saw Lucas coming toward him, with the wicked of smiles plastered on his seemingly perfect face. Matthew felt his stomach drop, and he seemed to cower, expecting the sudden blows of Lucas's fists upon his face. But the attacks did not come to him. With surprise, Matthew lowered his hands and stared at Lucas for a long moment.
Lucas was smiling evilly, and his perfect teeth seemed to blind Matthew from the light that shined upon them. "So…you decided to get ballsy and try to smart-mouth my friend, eh?" Here it comes…
"Yes." Matthew stated, his body trembling at Lucas's deep, serious and clearly pissed off tone. It took a moment to realize that Lucas was drunk, and he probably won't remember ever talking to the loser of the league the next morning. But he still feared for his life, because nothing was scarier than a pissed off, drunken Lucas Lee.
He felt his wrist grabbed roughly and tightly by the bulkier and larger male. His eyes were glazed and swimmy, and Matthew felt the blood run cold in his veins as Lucas leaned in and growled, "You're coming with me." And off they went, no matter how hard Matthew tried to pry himself from Lucas's hard grip.
Things seemed to descend straight into hell the minute they entered the bathroom. And no, it wasn't fists Matthew received. He was shoved into one of the stalls, his head practically smashing against the toilet. He immediately turned around, only to get pushed onto the toilet seat, looking up at Lucas's drunken stupor.
"Wh-what are you—?" Matthew began, but was silenced as Lucas slipped his hands underneath his buttocks and lifted him more up on the toilet. He aggressively yanked the Pirate's pants down, his eyes glaring at the younger man. Matthew felt his heart freeze in his throat, and his face went bright red, "NO, NO STOP!" His voice raised its pitch with every second he was in the stall with Lucas, and the stronger man slapped his hand on his mouth, "Shut-up." He snarled, finally getting the man's pants down his knees.
Why was he doing this? He was so scared…so frightened…was he going to…rape him? Matthew was pulled against Lucas's hips hungrily, hearing the stronger man chuckle darkly. "This'll teach you not to mess with people that can mess you up." He unzipped his own pants, thrusting his hips against Matthew's. Matthew screamed into Lucas's calloused hand that gripped his mouth shut. Please don't do this! Please! I'll do anything! A tear slipped down Matthew's cheek.
Lucas chuckled again as he got his own pants out of the way. There, he entered without any warning, without anything to stop the tearing, the pain, which Matthew felt as sharply as being slashed with a knife. The pain ripped through his abdomen fiercely, and Matthew let out a mad scream, the noise sneaking through the man's fingers.
With a few heavy grunts, Lucas was fully in him, letting his hand slip from the smaller man's mouth down to his hips. He grabbed them roughly, eagerly and hungrily thrusting into him, his grunts and pants of pleasure ringing from the stall. Matthew was about to scream for help, but Lucas leaned in and aggressively pressed his lips to his.
His scream was muffled into Lucas's mouth and he tensed, digging his nails into the man's arms. "Stop!" Matthew panted, pulling sharply away from the kiss, feeling the man slip out painfully and go back in. After some struggling, and nothing progressing for the Pirate, he went stiff and took it. His eyes filled with tears, and he bit his lip hard, feeling blood trickle down his chin as he tried to hold back the screams of pain.
After the horrid scene, Lucas pulled out of Matthew fully and zipped himself up. He lifted Matthew's chin up to him, kissing the smaller man on the lips and chuckling, "Not too bad." He laughed evilly as he closed the stall behind him, leaving Matthew in a heap on the stall floor, his pants around his ankles.
He felt degraded, and he buried his face in his hands, hiding his face from the world he called hell. This was his life! He sobbed into his hands, his nails digging into his forehead. He would have to get out of the stall sometime; having being gone for so long, Gideon and the others would start to wonder. But his negative side nudged in, stating, "They don't care. They've already made it clear you're the bottom of the food chain around here!"
He lowered his hands from his face, his tear-streaked face looking out from the space between the floor and the door. No one else was in the stall; he was the only person in here. He was alone…all alone…always alone.
There, he wept once again.
It hurt to walk. Every step he made down the street to his apartment was fiery pain through his abdomen and legs. He felt like just curling up on the street and sleeping there until he was able to walk again, but he knew the forecast called for icy rain and probably more strong winds. He couldn't afford to stay out here all night; he'd probably die of exposure. He paused a moment, and the more he thought about it, the more he liked the idea. He smiled the most he had smiled in about a couple weeks, and closed his eyes.
Yes, death would come while he slept. The ice would take over his body and end his life in the depths of sleep. No pain, no disgrace like he had felt at the party. Nothing but perfect peace and happiness of being ridden from this Hell.
He sighed deeply, and walked a little bit more until he stopped at an alleyway. He looked down that dark alleyway with some kind of hope. Yes, this would be the best place. He turned into the dark alley and started down into its depths. Flickering street lamps hung over his head, and he walked around a tipped over trash can with a hissing feline perched on one of the lids.
He could sleep here, in the sleet and snow, away from anyone on the street. He wouldn't attract attention with his intentional death; he'd be hidden from public, in an alley next to that café he'd always loved going into. But he knew that someone was bound to turn into that alleyway and find his frozen and dead body, behind a couple of trashcans. That didn't matter; all he wanted was to be ridden of the humiliation he'd endured for too long.
He slipped down the brick wall onto his buttocks, next to a couple of trash cans. The light from the street lamps could not reach to where he was, and he smiled peacefully. His body burned and itched. He felt dirty, used, degraded. He pulled his jacket more around him, curling into a ball against the wall of the building. Yes, just this, this was perfect.
He tried to relax by closing his eyes and breathing deeply for a couple of moments. Thoughts of peace swept through his head, but also fear. One little corner of his mind was setting off alarms. Those alarms were of the fear of death. "Things are going to turn around, Matt! Don't end it now, not here!"
Sleep consumed him before he could think about the other side.