There was something deeply visceral about the feeling of knowing that he was complete and utter fuck-up in every sense of the word. Despite every part of his ego, his pride, or whatever remained of them as far as he could tell, commanding him to blow off what was surely an embarrassment on his part, an intrinsic, almost bestial portion his subconscious lingered back there, where Danny was, gnawing bitterly, angrily at his mind.

They always said that hindsight was 20/20, and for most part, the teen considered with utter disgust at himself as he didn't bear to look back to where he'd came, it was unbearably clear just how stupid he probably looked just now.

Despite himself, despite what wanted to believe, Dash wasn't terribly equipped to deal with...unexpected encounters.

If anything, the teen thought with a touch of agitation as he sidled out of view of the growing numbers of students that were crowding the busier sidewalks of Amity as the city began to come to life, he felt inclined to plan as well as he could for what he might say in any particular instance. Or...he tried to; it wasn't exactly possible to plan for every occasion, but he would sure as hell try to. Everything was carefully curated, everything was designed and said with purpose, with intent...so he could feel himself grow angrier by the second, by the minute...at the absolutely shitty performance he'd just pulled off.

And in front of Danny no less.

'God, I probably looked so fuckin' stupid! Like a fuckin' idiot!' He screamed at himself, hardly noticing that he'd managed to bite into his lip, a bad habit of his that he quickly tried to rectify; it wouldn't do to make it harder to cover his...imperfections when he had to put makeup on.

Another genius move from himself, fucking up like always.

But that didn't uproot the sickly feeling in his gut when he thought back to it, the first encounter that he and Danny had since the start of the summer, though admittedly, he wasn't sure why this, of all things, felt...significant. For all intents and purposes, it shouldn't have. It should have just been another blunder, another stupid thing amongst a million other things that were equally stupid, all done by his hand.

As always.

Making a passing glance at public library on his left, Dash knew it wasn't much further now until he finally reached the school, and his thoughts were all but confirmed when he looked just a bit further down the road and noticed the bricked structure coming upon him...and the collecting student body that had largely the same idea as him and were congregating before the bell. Sighing, he felt himself bear upon his own action again, cursing the fact that he'd wasted so much time before, knowing full well the longer he took, the harder it would be to get in without being seen, and that was if he could even get in.

The back entrance could just as easily be locked, so there was that, too.

'Jesus, can't I just catch a break?! I could try going the long way through the track...but that'll cut me another ten minutes, and I don't even know if I have that kind of time...' He spat at himself, inwardly groaning at his own stupidity.

Because that's what he was.

Stupid.

Stupid for fucking up breakfast this morning.

Stupid for messing up Dad's drink.

Stupid for not walking fast enough.

Stupid for making a bad impression with Danny.

That's what he was, an idiot.

A stupid, fucking idiot.

'Stupid! That's what Mom and Dad always say...'

'It's true! How did you screw up something as simple as this?'

'Can't you do better?!'

Biting his lip again, Dash didn't bother answering, knowing that the answer was a resounding no.

No, he couldn't do better.

No, he couldn't know how he'd screwed up something this simple.

Really, none of this should surprise him, since this was precisely the problem.

He wasn't better than this.

But he didn't have much else to lose if he at least tried going through the long way. He had to at least try to get to the bathroom to apply his makeup, if nothing else. If push came to shove, he considered, taking a right and diagonal turn at the corner just before the Nasty Burger, he began walking up the path leading to the Community Center, spotting the Football just a block or so away from him, and as such, he quickened his pace, despite the grim outcome he'd been coming to expect.

He wasn't even sure how he was going to get in, if he could, though part of him hoped desperately that the back door was still open, just as it had been the year prior.

That was pretty much the only way that he was going to have a chance to get cleaned up beforehand, if that.

'Hurry! Hurry!'

'Won't work...too many people...'

'You don't know that...I don't have anything to lose by trying anyway...' Dash reminded them, though, as always, they didn't really respond, and frankly, he didn't need them to.

He had enough to think about with them making things worse.

'I can make it...just a little further now...' He reminded himself almost hopefully, take a right at the corner where the football field met the community center, the school fully in view now. But he couldn't get excited yet, not when he couldn't know whether this little plan of his would work, but the anticipation was killing him as he set foot into the small patch of trees surrounding the track and field before him. It wasn't long before he crossed the small threshold of foliage, and was out on the paved, running concrete of the arena; the teen glanced carefully around him, taking note of the surprising absence of other students despite what he was sure was the waning hour.

But he wasn't in the practice of looking a gift horse in the mouth when he had it.

'Great, no one's here yet. That probably means that I can get over to the back entrance, no problem...I hope...' He thought, rushing as fast as his body would allow to get to the back door, its cool, metal surface the final obstacle that he could name in his path. Upon it, he gripped the handle, and with a held breath he jiggled it, heart thrumming unevenly with excitement and relief when he discovered that it was, indeed, unlocked. Wasting no time to relish the moment, Dash pushed it down, and pulling the door, he was greeted with a gust of cold air that was always so when entering the gymnasium.

He could hardly believe his luck.

For as shitty as a morning as he was having, little moments like this and with Roxie almost made it...bearable.

Rushing inside and making sure to carefully shut the door to ensure that it didn't slam shut (after all of this effort, it wouldn't do to have every teacher in the building know that someone was inside when they shouldn't have been), Dash's eyes quickly adjusted to the pristine, waxed floors, and the high, industrial, but no less familiar, ceiling of the gym.

And immediately, he felt at ease.

Being there again, in the echoing walls and overhanging lights of this space seemed to lift the burden of the cold and rain outside, if just for a moment. Part of him felt a bit giddy with anticipation at the soon-to-be tryouts that would decide his place on the team, though with undue confidence, he could at least see himself as potentially captain again, though he had to admit to himself that perhaps...that was a bit of a reach. With this thought in mind, he began to cross the distance of the gym to the doors to the set that entered into the locker rooms, though his mind hadn't yet left what he'd been thinking about before.

He didn't need to be weighed to know that he probably lost some weight.

Though even that might have been an understatement. He'd found what he could on the rare trips into town, perhaps the occasional meal scored from what he could from home, but regardless of what he'd tried, he knew it wasn't enough to maintain what little muscle mass that he'd managed to build up over the course of last year. Even without a mirror, the youth considered sullenly as he peaked his head into the locker room first, listening out for any distant sound that would give away the presence of someone else, he could feel himself grow weaker and weaker over each passing day during the summer, and it wasn't helped by...other things, factors he didn't want to consider as his body squirmed from the subconscious reminders of his poor condition.

'It'll be a miracle if I even make it through the warm-ups like this...' Dash pondered darkly, suddenly feeling very...frail at the thought. Sure, he'd like to make quarterback again and captain of the other teams, too, just as he had last year (though that was barely by the skin of his teeth), but he'd have to find a way to bulk up first...somehow.

He just wasn't sure how yet.

'I'll figure it out...I...I have to. I can't miss sports. I have to play this year...' The teen resolved quickly, almost desperate at the thought of it. He wasn't sure he could take knowing that he would fuck up at the one thing, the only thing, he was sort of good at because he wasn't strong enough, he wasn't heavy enough...he'd lose it.

But he had other things to worry about for the time being, he could think about all of that later.

Deeming it okay to enter, Dash stepped inside, minding the silence once more before making his way to the showers. With one more check around the locker room, Dash peeled his bag from his back and, kneeling over it on the ground, fished out a single, used, bar of soap and an old rag, crude and heavily used, but better than using his hands.

Like he used to.

Setting them aside, he stood, and with a single motion, he quickly began to undress. Putting his jacket a bit further away from his used, dirty clothes, Dash knew he wouldn't have too much time to waste when it came to this, especially not with the way he wasted so much of it. Regardless, he could at least enjoy it while it lasted, he figured, picking up his rag and what remained of his soap bar, then stepping nude into the main shower area and under a head. Placing his items upon the ledge just before the knobs, he took one last glance out into the lockers, and deeming it okay, he turned it on, and all at once, a crashing, blistering warmth enveloped him.

It was euphoric, each bead of water seeping with quiet, gentle hands into his tired muscles, bringing forth a small hiss from his lips, born from the searing, but comforting, heat. Allowing it to run over him, Dash shivered as it ran through his sweaty, matted locks, his finger pulling free any tangles that he managed to find before he grabbed his soap and rag again, lathering it quickly and promptly placing it on his skin to scrub. Despite the growing, dull ache that grew each time he dragged his hand over a stray bruise or a mark or cut, he couldn't deny the abject pleasure of finally getting clean.

Running the length of his arms, he ran the cloth gently against his marred skin, hissing as the soap seeped into the thin, lashing cuts that covered the majority of his limbs. They throbbed a bit, but it wasn't anything that he couldn't handle, the teen moving to other areas of his body as he kept the time in mind.

Though his stomach began to twist as his hand traveled lower on his body.

Largely avoiding his nether regions, he tried to focus on his legs first, scrubbing gingerly at dirty skin whilst all the while watching the brown sudds swirl around his feet and down into the drain. A sense of dread filled him as he finished, minding the cloth for a moment.

"Come on, just...get it over with. It...it'll be quick, just...make it quick, Dash..." The teen recited to himself and, taking a breath, he reached down, gripping his soft length with a gasp, wincing as a particularly large bruise, marring his shaft, screamed at him from the touch of his hand. His shaking hands hesitated to move for a breath, but knowing that his time was running short, he knew he didn't have time to waver, not this close to the start of the school day.

He'd just have to bear it.

And that was precisely what he did.

As slowly as he could manage to, the teen ran the rag over his member, biting his lip to keep himself from making noise, but it was a fair bit more difficult than he thought it was going to be. Grime, filth, and unspeakable things lifted from his darkened skin with some effort, and it was made even harder when, in pulling back the skin from his head, he was forced to press further, harder, into the already sensitive flesh.

It wouldn't have to be so bad if Mom and Dad weren't so...rough.

But he shouldn't complain, the teen chastised himself as he allowed the water to clean him off, hissing at the sensation of running water pelting, however gently, his battered flesh.

This was just how it was. Besides, it wasn't as though he wasn't...familiar with this sort of thing by now.

He just had to deal with it, that's all. This was...something that every kid did after spending time with their parents. It was just like cleaning up your toys after playing with them.

It was just part of the process.

And as part of the process, Dash knew he wasn't finished yet.

After his front was thoroughly cleaned, Dash felt himself grow especially hesitant as his hand hung under the shower's path, allowing the gunk and soap to be washed away, and grabbing the bar again, he began to prepare himself.

'It'll be fast.' He uttered in his mind as he placed the soap down.

'You can handle something little like this.' Dash remarked, bringing his hand to his backside.

'Don't be such a pussy. You know you have to get clean. Stop WASTING TIME!' Dash screamed at himself.

He could do this.

And so he did.

Using his opposite hand, Dash held his breath, then pressed the rag to his bottom, scrubbing gently but quickly through the rising discomfort and pain. He could feel whatever was crusted back there lifting from his skin, but all the same, he didn't miss, as he looked down, trickles of red traveling down the length of his thighs and around his feet. Releasing a shaky breath, Dash stopped for a moment, leaning silently against the ledge of the shower as he tried to gather himself.

"C-come on...just...finish it...f-finish and I can be done with this..." He whispered to himself, realizing suddenly that he was shaking from the pain, but he had to ignore it.

This was nothing new. He should...have been used to this by now.

He needed to toughen up.

Yeah, that was the problem. He was just being weak.

Weak.

Taking in another breath, Dash started again, whimpering as his hand brushed against a particularly angry bruise, sending electric hands along his spine as he resisted the urge to scream.

'Bleeding! BLEEDING!'

'Does it hurt?'

'Suck it up. Stop whining, you're just weak!'

But...it did hurt. It...always hurt.

Every time it happened it hurt, but as far as he understood, it was supposed to be this way.

Sex hurts.

"Hey, Al! Tell the bitch to shut the fuck up! All his crying is making me fuckin' soft!" One of them said, but...he couldn't really tell who it was, not that it mattered, since it all felt the same.

All of their voices had long since began to blend together into a mess of sounds, a mess of sensations that he couldn't really understand through the feeling of his entering him again, but he could feel their disdain for him, even now, as his father entered the room, something thin in hand.

"Oh, yeah? You think I'm fucking around, boy? I told - " His father came into the room, but then he moved, hand raising into the air and with a strike -

He was struck once, his skin searing at the contact.

"- you to - " His father continued, but he interrupted himself again, bringing his hand down again.

He was struck twice, the teen flinching violently at the lashing tongue of the extension cord and between the thrusts of the older man that had called his father in.

" - shut the fuck up! Huh?! Didn't I?!" The older man screamed, but the teen couldn't respond.

Or more like...he didn't want to. Clasping his mouth shut, the boy knew he'd been wrong.

Good boys didn't cry. Good boys listened. Good boys shut up.

He would just need to try harder.

Sex makes you feel bad.

"That's right...r-right there...yes..." A woman said into his shoulder as he felt himself...inside of her. She gripped him as he continued to thrust, though it was hard to focus.

He was tired. The teen didn't know how long they'd been at this, but he was starting to feel it, the wash of fatigue. He didn't really wonder how long they would do this for anymore...it was for however long they wanted to do it.

It didn't matter if his cock swelled and burned from contact.

It didn't matter if he bruised.

None of that mattered.

None of it -

"Hnnn...h-hnnn...f-fuck...I..." The woman cried, gripping him harder, and his pace increased.

He could feel her growing closer, closer, still.

She squirmed under him, yearning, grabbing, her looser cavity squeezing him with violent need as he felt himself grow closer, too.

He started at her beneath him, his eyes out of focus.

It was hardly an action he had to think about.

Fucking.

It was mindless, instinctive, a motion he'd been in practice with for far too long not to be. He knew what to do, how they all worked, how...women worked. He'd gotten enough practice with Mom to know just as well what worked for her.

They were all the same.

The looks on their faces, the way they moved, they way they scratched at your skin, the way they tightened and loosened when they were close and when they were done.

They were all the same. All...the same.

Leaning down, he licked around her scarred nipple, ringing his tongue around it and at the sound of a guttural moan, he knew he'd done the right thing.

He expected no less.

But the others behind him were growing impatient.

He needed to finish up.

He could manage that much.

And he could ignore the vile disgust that filled his gut all the same.

He hated sex, but that didn't stop him from being good at it.

Sex was uncomfortable.

Sex made you feel sick.

Sex was punishment.

So this was...just what it was.

What it would always be.

So he should more than able to just take this.

With as much effort as he could give, he did just that, scrubbing well enough that he could feel whatever was left behind from...them...peel from his skin, flaking off, and leaving him clean...or as clean as he was going to be.

Allowing the water to wash away whatever else remained of the soap and residue, he took the knobs in hand, turning them until the water was shut off, and immediately, a thrust of cold fell on his skin as the warmth of the shower came to an end. Dash shivered, ringing out his used rag and taking the soap he'd used to clean up, Dash didn't miss the renewed throbbing of his nether regions, worse than it had been before, but he wouldn't have time to dwell on it. Moving back to where his bag was, he could hear it growing busier outside of the locker room, but he hadn't heard the bell yet.

"Teachers...probably. Still need to get dressed and put on my makeup, but that shouldn't take too long. Just need to touch up, I think..." The teen muttered to himself, slow to bend over to grab his fresh clothes from his bag. A black shirt, his worn, blue denim jeans, and socks; his typical outfit. He'd somehow managed to keep them mostly intact (something that was sort of needed since he had so little else to wear), and he knew, subconsciously, that people might begin to wonder why it is that he always wore the same thing...each year no less. This was even more prescient when he thought about Kwan, Dale...the others...and how they would probably have newer clothes than him...and how by comparison he...would probably look worse.

It wouldn't be hard for him to. With his worn, old, used clothes, he, for lack of a better world, always seemed to look out of place when beside the others.

But really, he always reminded himself when he realized he even begun thinking like that, he knew what Mom and Dad would say to that.

"Be grateful you even have what you do, you worthless little shit!"

He could remember his mother scream at him, and deservedly, too. What right did he have to ask for things? The clothes he had were just fine, he should have known better.

He didn't get new things.

He didn't deserve new things.

Putting on his underwear (well, his father's underwear, but he just let Dash have them), he was quick to pull on his pants and shirt, adjusting them slightly before he came to a stand again, picking up his jacket and bag in one, swift motion.

"Now I just need to put on the makeup...make it quick..." Dash whispered, giving his outfit a bit of a once other, then he motioned towards the mirrors that were a short distance away, facing out from the stalls in the same area. Just the same as he had before the showers, he put his bag on the sink in-front of him and opened it again, pushing the clothes he'd just placed into the bag out of the way and pulled out a small, plastic makeup palette.

A small gift from his mother, or...more like something she begrudgingly gave him when she noticed he was getting looked at more. That people were staring, and it was a good thing she had.

It was easier to hide the ugly things when no-one knew they were there.

He didn't have to think up so many excuses now that he had this.

Opening it, he took a bit of the foundation that matched his skin tone and dotted it on the uneven sections where faint, dark splotches ran the course of his cheeks and neck. A bit of concealer, too, making sure the spots of red from his father's palm were vanished from sight.

He'd gotten quite good at this.

Well enough that no one asked anymore.

'Missed a spot...people will know...'

'They can see them you know. You can't hide it…'

'Shut-up! I know what I'm doing, so just…let me focus.' He called back at them, grasping the brush in hands tightly with frustration at their constant taunting. He didn't the pressure of them making him listen to them, he'd had a shitty time just…managing his own thoughts.

If he could just do one thing, just one thing with them chiming in, making him…feel like shit…

'You deserve to feel like shit.'

'That's all you are. Something to be fucked and thrown away, you piece of shit.'

'You're never going to amount to anything. You're worthless.'

'Worthless. FUCKING WORTHLESS -'

"I SAID SHUT THE FUCK UP - " Just like that, the bell rang, shaking him from his thoughts, his head snapping up with surprise at the rise of his voice. He could hear them, laughing at him, they thought this was funny.

They knew what he was.

How much of a joke he was.

He didn't want to be laughed at. He hated it, hated the sound of them screaming at him.

Could no one else hear them? Hear how they loved his humiliation? It was humiliation enough just being alive -

'No…no, don't let it get to you. You're…you're Dash Baxter. You're…you're not like that…people would kill to be you, they would - ' Something in the back of his mind scoffed at the notion.

'Be you? Who would want that? Even you don't want to be you…' A voice reminded him cruelly, eating what little self-respect he had.

But he couldn't think like that.

He…he had to believe there was something, anything, that was good about him.

He…he couldn't listen to it, to them, to any of it.

Gripping the sink, he looked into the mirror, staring at the empty-eyed image of his own reflection.

And it looked back and smiled.

He was Dash Baxter.

He'd waited an entire summer to finally be him again.

It was the only thing he had left to be.

- (Elsewhere, Same Time) -

The town was far smaller than he'd expected it to be, but that wasn't exactly a complaint on his part. Lending a gaze to his window, the youth could see the student body collecting out on the somber, drenched streets of Amity as the body of their massive vehicle sped by, sending precursory glances back at them.

"Nervous, young master?" An older man from the driver's seat of the vehicle asked, giving the teen behind him an inquiring look before turning his eyes back to the road.

Nervous?

He couldn't exactly say that he was...nervous, necessarily, though be lying if he didn't say he was at least...anticipating this day. Sure, it was a small school, an imperceptible dot on the map compared to the many schools he'd been to before, but it was still new, still...different.

And if he could be frank, he wasn't much of a fan of the 'different' part...

But he wouldn't get to respond for himself, not when a voice, much the same as his in tone and pitch, answered in kind with a far more abrasive cadence differing much from his softer one.

"Can't say we are, are we, Perce? Not much to be nervous for; we'll probably be swarmed the moment we leave the car by these lot." The voice claimed boldly, settling further into his seat despite knowing that they were due to leave soon, the school coming up in the distance.

"Yeah, well, I was hoping we wouldn't be, Alex. Kind of looking to keep a low profile, you know? The whole paparazzi schtick gets old after the hundredth time, yeah?" The teen answered back, sighing at the thought. It was enough that people had even heard they were coming, but it was another thing entirely to be spending what would likely be the rest of their careers being ogled at by onlookers.

This was irritating enough already.

"Ah, don't be such a stiff. It's going to happen regardless; might as well soak it in, hmm? Give the people what they want and all that. Besides, it's sort of part of the deal, 'innit?" The former shrugged, passing a glance over Percy and to the other's window. Percy followed suit, noticing that they were just arriving. As he'd suspected, their vehicle had probably gotten their attention, and more than that, as two guards came on either side of the truck, opening their doors and releasing them from the confines of their seats, he could already feel their eyes on them. But before they left, the man in the front seat turned back, his stately, trimmed mustache upturned in a smile as he spoke.

"I surely hope the two of you have a wonderful day. Feel free to call upon Gerald or Reginald, or even myself, if any of this overwhelming for you, young masters." The man spoke to them, and with that, Percy nodded, smiling slightly though he felt his heart thrum with pent-up anxiety.

"Thank you, Oswald." Percy hummed appreciatively, and the other teen beside him did much the same, before the two of them hopped out of the vehicle, their tall, lean bodies the center of attention just as soon as their feet touched wet concrete. At their sides just as quickly, the two guards were equipped with umbrellas, shielding the youths as they made their way up the path leading to the front doors of the school. The other students didn't make it a secret that they were watching them, and closely at that, their own collective whispers also fairly obvious.

They weren't even trying to hide their interest.

Beside him, his brother leaned closer to him, grinning well enough that the former didn't even need to look directly at him to see it perched in his peripherals.

"See? Told you. Haven't even stepped foot into the school, and they already can't get enough of us." Alex whispered, chuckling as he waved gingerly to a group of girls who, in response, giggled to themselves, quickly turning away to speak amongst themselves.

Rolling his eyes, he placed them forward, refusing to look at either side that he was sure was staring back at him.

Perhaps he didn't want to admit it to anyone, not even himself, but...perhaps he was a bit nervous after all.