Chapter 2

Simon

Its almost ten now. Pick up was at nine.

"He's forgot." I scratch at my beard and then shove my hands into my jacket.

I can't remember the last time I shaved. There was never really a point with the rate it grew back.

"Oi, will you stop! He has not forgot!" Amy spins around in her chair, twirling a strand of her hair around her finger. I've always liked Amy. She's been nice to me since I first came here, always looking to have a chat with me whenever we both had the time. She'd make a good counselor. Always so friendly and personable. But for now, she acts as the secretary behind the desk.

I glance at the clock on the wall. My phone is dead. I have no car. I am screwed.

Its Thursday. Tuesdays and Thursdays are the days I have to meet with my group and talk about my recovery. I hate it. But its better than when I had to live at the place.

I don't want to be here.

I don't like being clean.

Things never used to be this hard.

I get up from my seat on the bench in the lobby. I walk around, tapping my fingers on my leg as I go, admiring the colors used on the walls. The center is nice, I'll give them that much. It obviously expensive.

And that's what sucks about having a friend who has more money than he knows what to do with. It makes you feel like shit. I shouldn't be Luciens responsibility. I am fucking twenty eight, not twelve.

I study the pattern on the wallpaper, or whatever it is. Maybe is not wallpaper and its just the way the paint dried. It looks nice, anyhow. A hand comes and rests on my shoulder causing me to turn to look at the source.

Amy just stands there, smiling bright and motioning for me to follow her back to the front of the building. I do so, watching Lucien come into full view as we go. He's on the phone, arguing by the looks of it. Probably Trisha giving him more shit about his kids even though she won't let him see them. I'm real close to giving her a personal call; tell her to shut the fuck up. But that'd be rude.

He notices me and smiles, mouthing a sorry and a thank you to Amy. I follow him towards the door and he opens it, holding it with the weight of his body so that I could walk out as well. "See you next week, Simon." Amy shouts as I walk out and I turn and wave just before the door closes behind me.

—

"You alright?" I ask as we walk towards the tube. He's off the phone now, fumbling through his jacket pocket for his wallet.

"Yeah. Sorry 'bout that. I know I'm late." He sighs. Hes obviously stressed about something. And when he's stressed, he smokes. But not tonight. Not around me.

I wave it off. "It's stupid you have to get picked up, anyhow." I hate their system. I hate a lot of things.

"Eh, well, I think they are all just worried for your safety. Who knows what y'all would do if you went off on your own at night." We walk down the stairs, stepping into harsh light and people bumping into us. There's a man on the left of us playing the guitar, his case open for people to throw money in. I wonder if that could have been me.

"We aren't kids though, Lu. Its not fucking day care."

He nods in agreement. I can tell he wants to make a comment about it. Say something about how I'm worse than a kid. How I'm harder to deal with.

He wouldn't be wrong.

We hurry to get onto the car so we don't have to wait for the next one, people all crammed together. There must have been some event. I feel my breathing become more heavy and labored, Lucien picking up on it immediately and giving me that look. The look that asks me if I'm okay and if I need to get off.

I nod and release a shaky breath. As long as it doesn't get too loud I'd be fine.

He makes me get off on the next stop. I could have handled it, but walking the rest of the way is definitely my preference.

"Gives us the chance to chat, don't it? I know you've missed my company all day." He jokes dramatically as we get onto the street. "Ive got news, too."

"News?" I was away for half the day. I couldn't have missed much.

But then again, I could have missed a lot.

"Remember my mate, Kieren?"

I smile, "How could I not?"

"Oi, Monroe. What's that supposed to mean?" He bumps into me playfully, making me stagger sideways and take a step off the curb. I shake my head and join him back on the sidewalk.

After Lucien left Roarton, he literally wouldn't shut up about the kid. Kieren and this other one...Rich, I think? He would go on saying how much heshipped them or something. I still don't know what that means, but it has to do something with them being in a relationship.

I know Kieren visited Lu a few times. But, during that time, I wasn't in my right mind, as Lu likes to say. So, I never got to meet this famous Kieren from his stories. From the sound of them, however, he sounds pretty damn incredible. Sadly, Lucien is known to exaggerate.

"Nothing, Blitz." He hates when I use his last name, makes him think of his father. Same applies to me. We're equal now. "Go on, then. What's the news?"

"Right, Kieren showed up tonight, reason for me being a bit late. He's going to be staying with us for—"

There's a pause. I look over at him expecting him to be in thought, like he was trying to remember what Kieren had said, but no. He's sad.

He doesn't need to say anything, I understand. The kid's got no where else to go.

"He's not okay, Si. Somethings happened. His mother was so cryptic on the phone. She didn't sound well, either."

I stay silent. I don't know Kieren at all. I don't have advice for what should be done. Not that anyone is asking for it, anyhow. That'd be ironic.

"It'll be alright." I'm a hypocrite and a liar. This is a fact.

"And don't mention Rick 'round him, right, cos that's got something to do with it."

Rick, that's what it was. Where did Rich come from? I don't know any Riches.

"Alright." I worry I'll forget. Odds are that if I do, I'll say Rich.

—

We finally reach the flat and step inside. Lucien tells me to keep quiet because Kieren is sleeping.

He has a verbal debate with himself if he should check up on him. I decide to make the decision for him and we both go, slowly opening the door and peeking inside. What can I say, Im curious.

It feels weird to be walking into some strangers room while they are asleep. But, I'm glad I went. Lu would have woken him up if I hadn't.

Kieren is asleep, the bedside light illuminating his face and arms, the scars becoming far more prominent than they would be in normal light. He's good looking, no, hes pretty. I want to see his eye's open, see what color they are and if someone has the ability to find themselves lost in them. The way his eyelashes rest on his cheekbones, along with his thin, frail body, makes him look incredibly delicate.

Lucien isn't moving, his mouth is slightly open in confusion and disbelief. I move closer, expecting the cuts, noticing the depth of a few of them further up his arm. Those were an odd purple color, the sign they may be infected.

He told me he knew something was wrong. I don't think this is where his mind had wandered to. He already has to deal with a drug addict; he doesn't need more damaged baggage. I feel bad.

I turn away from the sleeping boy and usher Lu out of the room. His eyes stay unmoved even after I close the door.

"Lights." he whispers, still in a state of shock.

"He left them on for a reason. Leave it." Sleeping with the lights on, something I'm far too familiar with.

He just shakes his head and walks off into the living room, me following close behind.

"This isn't your fault." I grew up with Lucien. I know how he thinks, how his mind works.

He just looks at me, still shaking his head in disbelief. At least he isn't making any excuses to make it something it's not.

"Do I call his parents?" He breathes. He takes his glasses off and throws them onto the sofa and runs his hands over his face.

"He came here to get away from them, no? Don't get involved in that."

"I'm a fucking father, Simon!" He's shouting now, his eyes red and hazy with a mixture of anger, sadness, and frustration. He takes it back immediately, whispering an "I'm sorry."

I wave it off, and I go and stand beside him. "I know this is hard. Just be there for him, yeah?"

He nods and walks off to his room, closing the door behind him. I grab his glasses off of the sofa and place them on the countertop in the kitchen. Better if someone doesn't sit on them.

I'm not hungry so I skip dinner and go straight to my room and plop down on my bed, shoving some clothes to the floor in the process. My phone lights up on my nightstand, signaling that I received an email from god knows who.

I decide to send a quick text to a friend, against my better judgement, asking them to come over the following day. I receive a response almost immediately, the vibration startling me.

They agreed.

I'm going to get shit for this.

I don't care.