Thanks for the reviews! This is my first fanfiction, so it's nice to know that it's going well.
Depressing chapter, coming your way—just so you guys know.
This chapter doesn't have much dialogue for the majority of it. It's just a bunch of thought-filled paragraphs. There isn't much in the way of action either. I hope I still manage to keep you guys entertained.
Again, this is only the second chapter, so it'll still be a bit boring for a little while. Just wait a few more chapters. It will get better.
Phoenix trudged solemnly out of the hospital, feeling distant and heartbroken. He couldn't believe how horrible he felt, how horribly this day was going for not only him, not only his father—his poor father—but also his friend, Chandie. It was her birthday today, and now Phoenix had to pretend that nothing had happened, that everything was just fine and dandy, that he wasn't ready to go curl up in a corner and die. He couldn't let himself ruin this day for his friend.
He had to face the truth, though: Chandie wasn't his greatest concern at the moment. He now had no parents to raise him, no home to stay in, no twin brother to share the horrible situation with, and he was truly alone—yet he was worried his buddy's party might not seem like quite as much fun because one of her guests couldn't bring himself to smile. He was seriously finding it hard to care. As selfish as it sounded, it was the truth. Or maybe it didn't sound so selfish. Phoenix couldn't really tell.
In his haze of thought, he almost let a car crash into him. He realized he had walked right out in front of the speeding vehicle. It screeched to a stop mere feet away from him. Looking up in terror, he realized just how lucky he felt to be alive—how close to death he had just been. If that driver hadn't noticed Phoenix until a second later, or if Phoenix had stepped out into the road a second later, or if this, or if that, he wouldn't be alive right now. In that moment, he found a whole new meaning to life—to live. It wasn't just about survival. It was about parties and pizza and hanging out with friends. It was about enjoying each and every moment, because you never knew which moment would be your last. He had almost died, and if he had, he would have died depressed. He refused to let that happen.
He wasn't quite so worried about this at the moment, however, and was more focused on the fact that he had nowhere to stay and no family to take care of him. What was he going to do? His life was falling apart, ripping at the seams. Where was he to go now? He couldn't go back to his house. Child protective services—or whoever it was that took away the kids with parents who were either criminals or dead—could show up at his house any day now. Actually, he didn't know how long they took. For all he knew, they could be there right now, waiting for him.
He didn't want to be taken away, placed into some foster home or adopted by some junkie who would only be doing it for the cash. Right now, more than anything, he wished his step mom would be released from prison so she could take care of him. Well, as long as he was wishing for stuff, he really wished his father hadn't killed himself. He really wished he could at least see him one last time, tell his father he loved him, say goodbye.
On some level, he was glad he didn't have the chance to do that. It would have been too hard. Though, it would have been nice for the man to at least leave his two sons a note. Instead, he was just gone. Here one second; gone the next. Like he'd never even existed in the first place.
Phoenix's mind once again drifted to the problem of having nowhere to go. He could stay at one of his friends' houses for a bit, but he knew their parents would tell those child protective services, and he would still get taken away.
It almost seemed as if a house in general was out of the question. Maybe he could get a job and rent an apartment. A studio apartment. A really cheap studio apartment.
He was figuring it out as he walked, not really knowing where he was headed. He soon decided to make his way to the pizza palace. Hopefully, at least one of his friends would be there. There was a good chance of it.
That was the other conflicting decision going on within his mind: should he tell his friends or not? At first, he immediately thought of telling them, getting some emotional support. But now, he feared how they would react. Once again, he feared somebody telling the child protective services. If Phoenix told Monty, Rose, Richie, or Zoey, they would most likely wind up telling their parents, which would ultimately lead to Phoenix being taken away.
He suddenly saw the solution, laid out right in front of him. It now seemed so obvious, he felt like an idiot for having not figured it out hours earlier when he had first received the horrid call from the hospital that had started this mad turn of events in Phoenix's life.
He would tell Chandie.
He would tell Chandie, and only Chandie. He would make sure she wouldn't tell the others. And, knowing Chandie, she wouldn't. Chandie always stayed quiet about others' secrets, no matter how horrible or how juicy they were. If she was told not to tell anybody, she wouldn't tell anybody.
Phoenix had once seen it as a flaw in her character. But now, she was thankful for it. Not only would Chandie not tell the other four—she would keep quiet from her parents as well. She had never seemed very close to her parents. She almost never talked about them, a common subject among average teenagers for the purpose of complaining. Phoenix never complained about his parents, though. He loved them and understood their actions. In his eyes, they never did anything wrong, even if society labeled them as "criminals" and "law-breakers." They had only done what they'd needed to survive. Phoenix couldn't find one complaint about either of them.
However, unlike Chandie, he still found time to talk about them. He loved talking about his great experiences with his father and step mother. Of course, after his step mother was thrown in prison, he didn't talk about her quite as much anymore.
That was only a couple weeks ago, so the impact of his father's suicide was just that much worse. He had barely had time to recover from losing his step mom when he lost his father as well. Now, he would probably never see his twin brother again either. His brother would be heading home or would have already done so. He would be happy to be thrown into foster care and never have to see his brother Phoenix again.
Phoenix had never felt so alone. All he had left now were his friends. Those five—Monty, Rose, Zoey, Richie, and Chandie—were his new family, whether he would be telling them all or not.
Being in such deep thought made the walk seem to go by faster. He entered the pizza palace and took a quick look around. None of his friends were there. Barely any customers were there. Phoenix looked up at the clock on the wall; it was almost five-thirty. At least nobody would be missing him back at home now. No rush.
The very thought of the home he grew up in—completely emptied out, barren—made him feel empty himself. He was thankful for how little people were in the pizza palace when a tear dripped from his eye and rolled down his cheek. He urged himself to stop, to not go any further with the tears. He had a party to attend to in less than an hour. Okay, there was some rush, he admitted to himself. If he bawled his eyes out now, there wouldn't be enough time for him to recover before the party. He couldn't let his friends see him this way, especially Chandie. He couldn't ruin her party with his life problems. Chandie had her own problems. Both her parents were too busy to attend the party, and, despite her efforts to hide the fact, Phoenix could tell she was upset by it.
It was this thought that finally pushed him over the edge. The tears poured from his eyes. His face reddened to a substantial degree. Now, he was very thankful for nobody being around to see him like this, to see him looking so weak.
It was just then, in the middle of that thankfulness, when he heard the sound of the pizza palace's door opening, a gush of wind bursting in—intruding in on the warmth and coziness that was the pizza palace—and the close closing.
He heard footsteps getting closer. When they sounded to be only a foot or two away, his ears then picked up a familiar voice. "Hey, Phoen— Whoa, what's wrong?"
Chandie. Why did it have to be Chandie? Of all people, it was Chandie who had to burst through that door and see him like this.
"Phoenix?" her sweet, soft voice asked. "What's wrong?"
Phoenix felt a cold hand on his shoulder. He quickly wiped his eyes and looked up at her, faking a smile. "Nothing. Everything's great. Happy birthday, Chan."
"Thanks, but . . . Phoenix . . . ?"
Her voice sounded so scared, so concerned, it actually hurt to hear it. "What? I'm fine. I'm just . . . I'm just really excited for you, turning sixteen! It's a big deal. You're one of us oldies now."
Chandie laughed, though it looked forced. "Phoenix, whatever's going on, you can tell me. Even if you don't want the others to know, you can still tell me. I won't tell them."
Phoenix wanted to yell, scream at her that that was the plan. "Tomorrow," he muttered under his breath.
"What?" Chandie asked. "Sorry. I didn't hear you."
"Tomorrow. I'll tell you tomorrow."
"Okay," Chandie said, sounding almost defeated.
"What? Okay?" Phoenix asked, surprised that she had given in so easily.
"Yeah. Okay. You can tell me tomorrow." She quickly pulled Phoenix into a friendly hug. "But, whatever it is that's going on, hang in there. Just hang in there."
Phoenix smiled. "Come on. Let's go party."
Okay, okay. The ending was a big weak. I know. Sorry about that. I was hoping for more of a surprise ending.
There was one thing I was going to do that was supposed to be a big shocker, but I realized it didn't really fit in with this chapter. I'll have to squeeze it in the next chapter.
Also, I know Phoenix seems very different from Phoebe's character and personality, but the reason why will be explained shortly. Don't worry. Crazy, fun, flaky Phoenix will arrive soon enough. ;)