I DO NOT OWN THE BREAKFAST CLUB. SHOUTOUT TO MY READERS.

Allison & Luke's Apartment. September 2, 1984.

(Luke)

As the weekend passed, Allison and I hadn't really discussed the topic of whether our date was going to be just a 1 time thing or if we were going to actually start dating each other. We both had seemed to be avoiding the topic in a way. I assumed that Allison was still try go get over the damage that John Bender had done to her self esteem; on top of the amount of damage that her parents had already done which was probably a whole Hell of a lot. But, if I was being completely honest with myself, I was kind of avoiding that conversation myself. Don't get me wrong, I'd had a great time with Allison on what was essentially our first date and if she was up for it, I did want to take her out on another date at some point. However, I just wasn't sure if I was ready to call her my girlfriend, make it official; you know?

Even though I has said that I was done with her and I absolutely meant it, I still had some leftover feelings for Claire Standish. Despite how our love had gone down in flames, we had shared many good times during our relationship. I had seen her become a better person through her association with the Breakfast Club, but now I had to ask myself whether that change was truly genuine or if she had merely joined us out of an attempt to rebel against her bourgeoisie upbringing. All of the fun times we had, all of the laughs we shared, all of the feelings that we had felt. They had all felt real to me, but had they been real to her? I had no choice but to accept the possibility that our entire relationship had just been a lie; a fantasy that she had taken part in just to fool herself into thinking that she was better than those other rich bitches even though in reality, she was the exact same.

I sat on the couch as I looked over my relationship with Claire from its beginning to its end. It was like what Claire and I had was a sunken ship and I was part of some investigation team, trying to figure out where the ship had gone down and why. To be honest, If I had to pinpoint any event, Claire's bullshit bourgeoisie family was where I would have to start and end. Despite giving me a roof over my head and food on my plate, the Standishes had never really accepted me into their family. To them, I would always be the street trash that their daughter took pity on, or used to piss them off, or both. Claire managed to hold her own in the beginning, but by the end...she saw in me what her parents and grandparents had always seen: a no account loser.

Perhaps that is why it was so easy for me to relate to Allison. She may not have experienced the crack fueled Hellhole of abuse that I had endured, but that doesn't mean that her parents were saints. They had ignored her, neglected her, treated her like a burden. Allison didn't deserve any of that shit. She was creative and kind and even though I had never noticed it before, she was exceptionally beautiful; more so with that black shit under her eyes. Claire probably thought that she was doing Allison a big ass favor by giving her that makeover. In reality though, I think that she did Allison a huge disservice by trying to turn her into someone she was not; as opposed to letting her natural, weird, and creative beauty shine though on its own.

I think that we had all hoped that once Bender and Allison had started dating that she had finally found someone good for her. Bender knew what it felt like to have the world see you as trash. Just like me and Claire, Bender and Allison had started off good too. According to Allison though, he had decided to follow his old man's footsteps. Bender decided to be a shitty boyfriend and seemingly, a shitty person as well. I hadn't talked to him since the night that he and Allison had broken up and quite frankly, I didn't care to. I wanted to be there for Allison and looking over everything that had happened in the past few days, I knew that I couldn't deny it anymore: I had feelings for her. I wanted to go out with Allison. I wanted to see if there was a chance that we could have a healthy relationship. I knew that with both our shared trauma, it was a bit of a long shot. However, I was willing to try. The only question was: would she be willing to try?

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