I started this fic a couple months ago in a really bad place. Had a breakup with my old bff, so I put my own feeling at the time into this story. I played up the angst and tragedy a lot, but the dynamics between Deuce and Ace are similar to how my friendship turned out. I even used some lines from our conversation. Trigger warnings for self-harm, child-abuse, depression, and suicidal thoughts and feelings. All around angst fic. Enjoy~
Ace stared at his phone, waiting for the reply of his best friend. It had been six weeks since he messaged back, but Ace still had foolish hope that he could salvage the situation. He watched his phone, hoping that it would show that Deuce had seen the message. Eventually, Ace's eyes went out of focus as he stared at the dim screen, which soon turned black once nothing was being used on it.
He set his phone back down on the table and laid his head down on his books that he couldn't concentrate on. He was supposed to be doing homework, but he'd thought of something that might have piqued his friend's interest. It was something stupid, really, but in the past they would have laughed about it.
He stayed at the library until it got dark out, not ready to go back home yet. Especially since he'd gotten nothing done in the last three hours. His dad was going to be pissed at him. Eventually, Ace's phone beeped that it was low on battery, and gave him an excuse to see if Deuce had even seen his message. He hadn't.
Ace sighed sadly, ran his hands through his hair, and brought his books and computer together, stuffing them into his old backpack that was barely hanging on. His notebooks were falling apart and in horrible shape since he hadn't been able to buy new ones at the beginning of the semester. He'd just erased everything that he'd written in them for previous classes and reused the paper, even if it was hard to make out what was written.
He got on his bike and rode home, bike lights on high. He didn't live far from the library, so it took only a few minutes to get home. Home was a nice apartment. It was the third story out of four, and the outside was impeccable.
The college student hated it. Everyone thought he was so well off, living in such a nice place, when in reality he wasn't even allowed to buy himself new clothes, and instead took them from churches he wasn't a part of, who were donating clothes to the less fortunate. Everyone thought he had the perfect life. Well, it was far from perfect.
He opened the front door quietly, and locked it behind him, hurrying into his room, closing the door slowly to not make a sound. His dad was passed out drunk on the couch, which was better than him getting mad at Ace for having gone out, even if it was just for school. Well, was supposed to be. Instead, it had been him lost in dark thoughts.
Ace set his things down on his bed and changed into some comfortable clothes. They had holes and cigarette burns on them. Thankfully, they didn't smell of smoke. Ace was in charge of laundry, so he kept them nice and clean. How his life looked to be.
The young man didn't get any dinner, afraid to wake his father. It was always better when he didn't have to interact with Roger. The bruises were harder and harder to conceal. Ace was only given makeup to cover the evidence of what happened at home. There was nothing to do but lay in bed and look at his phone when he didn't want to risk waking up his father.
Deuce didn't message back or show that he had even looked. Ace didn't understand how he did it. How he would be online but also not see his messages? Sometimes they were seen and just ignored, and sometimes they were answered, like nothing was different. Like he wasn't being ignored. Like his self-esteem wasn't being crushed into the ground almost painfully.
It hurt especially because Ace knew that Deuce knew he was all the freckled man had. Ace had no other friends, and his only friend was leaving him. Had left him, no matter that Ace did so much to try and keep hanging on.
Months had passed while this happened. Months that Ace tried to confide in him, and months he'd been ignored. But, Ace would keep trying until it was official. Until Deuce finally told him the truth he knew. He was done with Ace. Ace was holding on too tightly. But what else could he do? There was no way he could make it all on his own. Not with zero family besides a drunk and abusive father.
Ace plugged the phone in and turned it on its face so the light wouldn't show. He laid in bed on his back, trying to ignore the itching feeling of worthlessness that plagued him constantly. He was told so every time he and his dad spoke, and now the whole thing with Deuce was making it worse. Conveying that he was right. Ace really was worthless. Not even worth a single text.
-x-
Ace woke up the next morning from his alarm on his phone, turning it off immediately so it didn't wake Roger. He didn't know if he was still home or not. He didn't have a job, just lived off of his fortune he'd made in his youth. Ace didn't shower, but got dressed in his old clothes, a thick hoodie on over his plain shirt.
The college student purposely didn't look at his phone, not wanting to see he had no messages. No reply. Not worth anything. Anything at all.
The moment Ace knew he would start crying, he popped a Xanax in his mouth. Trying to fight off the anxiety and feelings he went through every day. He left his room and didn't even brush his teeth before fleeing the apartment. He didn't want to listen to Roger insult him before a tough school day. He had two tests that day. Computer programming and math, which was the hardest class he'd ever taken.
He got on his bike and rode in the bike lane on the wrong side of the road, like usual. The college was downtown, not too far from the library but not especially close to Ace's home. He had earbuds in, listening to the radio. He made sure this channel never played sad songs. The city was busy, but Ace kept aware, and reached the school in less than twenty minutes.
Locking his bike with two locks, one a coil and another a hard one since he'd never get another bike if this one was stolen, he hurried inside and to his math class. He ran up the stairs, too restless to wait for the elevator. A few of his classmates were standing outside the classroom door, as the room was locked and the professor hadn't arrived yet.
Ace couldn't help but check his phone, and his eyes brightened while his heart plummeted. A simple "lol" was replied. Ace knew that Deuce never made short replies. Ace swallowed down the tears, refusing to be weak in front of his classmates. Plus, he had to focus on the math test. The guy that Ace sat next to was really smart, and always got As. Ace pushed himself to the brink to pass all his classes, sacrificing his mental health, which was especially fragile lately. Yet this guy seemed to know everything so easily.
If the freckled student wasn't so insecure, he might ask to meet sometime and have him help him with the parts Ace didn't understand. But, he didn't want to seem like an idiot, so he would just do his best to understand by himself.
The short message felt heavy in his phone inside his jacket pocket. It was stupid, but the phone felt like a brick and he wanted to chuck it out the window. He didn't, of course, for that would cause a scene and he couldn't afford to break his phone any more. Its screen was already cracked in both directions, but it still worked thankfully.
During the test, Ace's fingers shook as he fumbled with the buttons on his calculator, trying to figure out the problems. They should be easy, and everyone else was finishing. His hands began to sweat and shake, making writing more difficult and taxing. His face grew red and his eyes burned when everyone else had gotten up and finished the tests.
When Ace was done, not finished, but just done, he turned it into the teacher with a look of shame. And the hopeless feelings that plagued him almost all day every day. Lol. The teacher looked at Ace with a sympathetic smile. She knew Ace was having trouble with something, but she didn't ask what. Instead, she suggested he try going to the campus counselor.
"I'm sorry my grades are getting worse," Ace replied, not acknowledging that he would not go to a counselor. He didn't see the point. If he told the truth, he was over eighteen. He couldnt be taken away from his father for child abuse. "I'm doing my best, really."
Ace's hands shook while he stood there. He slipped one hand into his pocket and felt the brick that was his phone. "I know you are, and that's all I ask. Have a good day, Ace," Miss Nico said kindly. Ace thanked her and hurried out of the room, pushing past the super smart guy and heading to the stairs, not wanting to wait for the elevator.
Programming went smoother. Though he made many mistakes on the test, he was hyper aware of misspellings that could ruin the entire code. The program was graded on the spot, and Ace got a high grade. Hey, he was actually good at something.
Lol.
In the back of his head, that stupid text slang echoed. His face fell right after his teacher excused him with a smile. Ace was going to go to the library again. He did his very best not to look at his phone, which had returned to its normal weight as he rode his bike down the street.
When he got to the library, he sat in his normal corner, and brought out his laptop. His other books were at home, as they were all just too heavy to carry around every day. So, he went on his computer, watching YouTube videos that he wouldn't remember the second they ended.
Lol.
His phone vibrated, and Ace was expecting it to be the notification of his math grade, but Deuce had messaged. Ace beamed, but felt foolish. He shouldn't give his friend so much power, but when he was the only pillar keeping Ace up, what was he to do?
Do you want to hang out later today?
Ace didn't know what to say. On one hand, he was dying to see his friend, hoping things would magically mend and go back to the way they were. But, on the other, he was hurt that Deuce was only acknowledging him on his own terms. But, Ace, being the foolish person he was, agreed immediately.
How about we go to the movies?
Ace didn't have the money, but agreed to anyway. Who needs groceries? Though part of him was irked since Deuce knew Ace couldn't afford things like this. Ace didn't know where things went wrong. But, maybe he could ask in person. The movie they were seeing wasn't particularly interesting sounding to him, but he was going to see Deuce and not just watch some corny adventure movie.
The young man showed up thirty minutes early. He'd misjudged how long it would take him to get there. I'm here.
Ace saw that the message was seen, and assumed Deuce was driving or something, and he'd see him soon. People gathered around the entrance, and Ace thought he should go save their seats, and bought the ticket. I'll meet you inside.
Again, the message was seen but not responded to. Ace waited in the theater as the seats filled up. He had his backpack in his lap as he sat in one of the seats where he could put his feet up on the bar. He waited, and waited, but no one came to him. No message made his phone's screen light up, since he'd silenced it to be courteous to the others.
Ace looked up when someone sat next to him, but it was just a guy with long black hair and a lot of makeup. Ace didn't look at him long, didn't notice the other two who sat down next to him. Ace didn't really want to see friends or groups being happy together. Not now, when he was sure his friendship of seven years was crumbling without his desire.
When the previews started, Ace checked his phone, and read, Hey, I gotta cancel. Something came up. Ace froze, his face falling harder than it had all day. He had had some hope to bring himself and Deuce back together, but Deuce didn't even seem to want to try. Ace swallowed thickly, and stood up and left the theater, breathing deeply.
He fell apart once he got outside, pulling his hood up to try and hide his face. He didn't want anyone he knew recognizing him crying. It would be humiliating, and he didn't need that feeling tacked on to everything else.
Still, he couldn't find the will, or maybe courage, to call Deuce out. If he got angry, then Deuce might leave for good, and they'd never be best friends anymore. But, he also didn't want to pester him. Did he just find Ace's messages annoying? He would maybe give him some space this time. Maybe his friend was just busy, or going through some tough times like Ace was. Though, he really did miss confiding in someone.
Ace panicked when he saw the same people who sat next to him in the theater come out. He'd been sitting against the side of the building for over two hours, and now he was gonna be late for dinner, and just hoped there was something in the fridge or Roger was asleep.
When he got home in a panic, Roger was very much awake, and glared at him when he entered the apartment, closing the door quietly behind him and locking it, as much as he didn't want to be locked in the same place as this man. "I'm sorry I'm late," Ace said, voice shaking. "I got a good grade on my programming test," he added, hoping to dull the blows he was going to get for not being home on time.
Screw Deuce for doing this to him. He knew what would happen if Ace didn't get home in time. But he should have thought about that when he agreed to see the movie. He'd blown off fourteen dollars just to leave before the movie even started. Roger didn't look proud, not that Ace expected him to. He just looked irritated. Ace didn't mention his math test, which he still didn't know the grade of.
"Make dinner, now," Roger commanded. It was a Thursday, so he didn't have any homework to do. He hurried to the kitchen, not even stopping to use the bathroom since he'd had to pee since walking out of the building. Ace quickly got to making breakfast for dinner. Roger had a schedule for the week's dinner, and tonight was breakfast.
His hands shook while he cooked, lost in his dark thoughts. Deuce canceled on him and set him up for his father's wrath. Since it was Thursday, and he didn't have anywhere to go tomorrow, he was probably going to be beaten tonight. The bruises were expected to heal by Monday. He served dinner to Roger at the couch on one of those dinner stands that folds up.
Ace took his much smaller serving to the dining room table, which was cluttered except for a small space that he sat at to eat. Ace was lost in his thoughts, pushing the food on his plate around, having no appetite. Not when he was so upset he felt he was going to throw up. He eventually did finish the food, even if he hated it. He didn't want to eat it, but he knew he needed food.
He cleaned up Roger's serving without being told to, taking the empty beer can and rinsing it out before tossing it in the recycling. The leftovers went into the fridge or into the trash, depending on what it was. Ace didn't even try to get to his room before standing in front of his dad. He looked up, but not with any dignified expression. He was no longer defiant to the beatings, he knew there was nothing he could do to stop them.
Ace had nowhere else to go if he left his father. And now that Deuce was ignoring him, his place was not an option. The first punch wasn't too bad. The second was worse, across his face, slamming into his left eye. There would be a bad bruise. And he was out of concealer, so he'd have to get some at the store.
He made no sound, but didn't fight back either. Even when his groin was kicked, he made no move that it hurt when it did, badly. It was a short session, and Ace went to the bathroom once he was excused to clean off the blood that was dried around his nose. It wasn't broken, thankfully.
Ace then hid in his room, and didn't come out the rest of the night. He cried softly into his pillow, hating himself for not being strong enough to text Deuce and tell him off for canceling on such short notice. He wasn't brave enough to text again, and maybe be deceived. Ace much as Ace wanted the truth, he was just as afraid to get it.
Was there something wrong with him? Had he done something wrong? He had no one to talk to about this. No one was there for him when he needed them. Not his father, or his best friend. But friend wasn't even a word that applied to Deuce anymore. But Ace couldn't let him go. He just clung tighter, emotionally. He hadn't seen Deuce face to face in weeks, afraid. So afraid.
His best friend didn't want him anymore. It was clear, but Ace just couldn't face the fact. He knew! Part of him knew it was over. That Ace should end it based on how he was being treated, but he was weak. He couldn't do it. Not when he was the only thing he had. A pillar that had held him up for so many years that Ace wasn't strong enough to stand up once it crumbled.
-x-
Ace had fifteen dollars in his pocket while he shopped at the Sephora in the mall, looking for his concealer. The one he always used when injured. Well, when the injuries needed to be hidden. If he skinned his knee on his bike, he didn't hide it. But when they were from his dad, no one would see them.
Luckily, Ace didn't know anyone who could connect the dots of his injuries, especially since he was so good at hiding them. The bruise around his eye was nasty, a dark circle around it that stretched across his nose a bit. He should have gone shopping before it was needed. Idiot.
Then, Ace ran into someone he wasn't expecting to see. He didn't notice his classmate while they were at the same stand. Ace was lost in his thoughts, dark as they always seemed to be lately. He was always on the verge between screaming angrily and crying, balanced perfectly between so he was empty. He didn't pay attention to anyone or anything other than what he was doing.
"Hey, Ace, right?" the smart guy from Ace's math class asked. Ace startled, looking up at him. Marco was his name. Ace just remembered him as "pineapple head". He'd probably be offended if Ace ever called him that. The young man didn't want anyone else hating him. Family and friends were almost too much.
"Whoa, what happened to your eye?" Marco asked in concern.
"I fell," Ace said in a monotone voice, not wanting to talk to Marco, and definitely not about the source of his black eye. Part of him wondered why Marco was looking at the boldest eye shadows, but the rest of him wasn't interested. Didn't care much, really. Marco clearly didn't believe him, but didn't pry, which Ace was grateful for. "See you Tuesday," Ace said and turned around to go pay for his concealer.
Once he got outside, he felt bad for being rude to Marco. He just didn't want to talk to anyone right now. Anyone but Deuce. Ace shoved the bag into his backpack, which had been searched, not much to his protest. He hadn't stolen anything, and had the receipts to his concealer. His phone felt heavier than usual, and he knew that it was impossible and just in his head, but even in his hands, his phone felt heavier than his whole backpack.
He rode his bike home, before stopping outside of the apartment's entrance. He stood there, staring at his reflection in the double glass doors. His face was pale, the bruise standing out as if someone painted a black spot on his eye. He had circles under his eyes, and not just from his insomnia. His eyes were red from constantly being on the verge of tears.
He also seemed to have lost weight. His clothes hung on him. He'd never been built, since he didn't get enough food and wouldn't dream of asking for money to go to the gym. He was also on excess units, out of financial aid, so he couldn't take an unnecessary class, like weight training or even yoga.
Instead of going inside, Ace got back on his bike and rode away, towards the one person he needed to see. Maybe wanted to see, too. But, he was angry. Though he didn't know if he was strong enough to show the anger when it might make Deuce angry, too. Angrier than he already was. Because why else would he avoid Ace?
The college student remembered all those times Deuce had told him he wanted to die. And how Ace had basically been his therapist, and was the one to get his friend on medications that helped him through dark times. And now he couldn't even spare Ace a text. A nice one.
He got off his bike once he reached Deuce's house and walked it up the sidewalk to the blue front door. Ace's hand shook, inches away from the doorbell. He gritted his teeth and shot his hand out, ringing the doorbell, heart beating. Now he couldn't go without being seen as weird, and maybe pissing Deuce off.
The door opened and Ace saw his friend for the first time in over a month. He looked perfectly fine and healthy, so the theory that he was actually sick just flew out the window. Deuce looked surprised, but not particularly happy to see Ace. who was supposed to be his closest friend. "Hey, Ace," the blue haired man said. He had the sense to sound awkward. Ace's heart beat rapidly in his chest.
"Where have you been?" Ace asked in a small voice. He couldn't be the only one who noticed his voice was shaking. "I've messaged you and you almost never reply."
"I was working and then I wanted to message you, but it felt impossible, y'know? I kept meaning to message you." Ace didn't know what his friend was playing at. He was acting uncomfortable, but his voice betrayed him. Like this was rehearsed and he didn't want to be wasting his time saying it.
"You were working all day every day for seven weeks?" Ace asked quietly. Deuce pursed his lips. "We're best friends." Though, he sounded uncertain, not knowing if those words even should apply to their relationship. What was left of it.
"Look," Deuce began, sounding impatient. "I know you have problems at home and everything, but I just don't want to do this anymore. Us. I don't want to do us anymore." Ace almost shouted about being beaten, not just problems at home! Deuce hadn't even mentioned the bruise on his face. "You're too clingy. I've been trying to send you signals that I want out, but you keep hanging on."
Ace felt like he was crumbling into little pieces. His ears started ringing, though he heard Deuce's voice loud and clear. It sent shards of glass into his heart. It was his fault after all. "You… don't want to be friends anymore?" Ace asked in a small, shaking voice. He felt shivers go up his neck, meaning he was about to start crying. He didn't want to yet, not in front of this asshole.
"No, it's just hard being your friend sometimes. I'm just… I don't want to do it anymore." Then he added, "It's nothing personal," even though he'd just said he didn't want to be with Ace because he was clingy and annoying. "I'm sure you can make other friends, right?"
Ace honestly would have rather seen Deuce angry instead of this calm, collected man who was breaking up his best friendship for seven years. No, Ace couldn't make other friends! Deuce was the only one! It wasn't hard for Deuce to make friends, he was a confident extrovert. Ace was closed off, cold, and unable to connect with other people. Maybe that's why he was so annoying and worthless. Because he clung to Deuce so much.
But who else could he hold onto when he lived like this? He was broken, shattered, but Deuce had always kept his pieces in the same place. He'd never been able to heal Ace's heart, but he was there for him despite that. Now, he was gone. Ace was gonna pass out if he stayed any more time with Deuce. He shot him a hateful and pained look before getting on his bike and riding away as fast as he could, tears burning his eyes in the cold air.
His hands shook as he rode, not really going anywhere in particular. Just following the bike lane until he knew he was going to throw up and couldn't risk being on the bike anymore. He turned into the park and rode until he was to an empty spot. He dropped his bike on the dirt and collapsed onto the picnic table, letting himself fall apart.
Finally, he had the truth. And it was something he'd not been expecting. Sure, he had a horrible feeling that he was annoying Deuce, but the man had just made light of Ace's abuse. He didn't want to play the victim, even in his own head, but he wasn't just verbally abused, he was assaulted on a weekly, or even daily, basis. Somehow, Deuce made that about him. It was too hard for him to support his friend when he desperately needed it.
But, maybe he needed it too much. Too often. Why did he wait seven weeks to ask why he was being ignored? Would it have been better to know sooner? Or had it been better to cling to that hope for all this time, that he would be close to his friend again?
Well, not friend anymore. Deuce had said nothing about staying in any relationship, not just not being best friends anymore. They were over, and Ace sobbed into the cold air, not caring about the people that were passing him, though there were few.
His stomach growled uncomfortably, and he knew he should go home. He'd been at the park for hours, even after the sobbing subsided and all that was left was an empty space that had been his heart. Deuce had taken it out and ripped it to shreds, knowing he had that power.
Though, it was Ace's fault for being annoying and clingy. It was his fault he couldn't fight back against his dad's beatings. He was weak… worthless… a waste of space. Ace had never been more miserable. He looked at the bridge nearby that was over the river. Only for a second he saw himself standing at the edge.
The image faded away quickly. Ace wasn't going to kill himself. He only had half a semester left. He could wait.