Knock Down...
1248 words [SOLO24]
What a freaking mess.
Really, what a freaking mess, all of it. There had simply been nothing that could have prepared him for what had been told a few days ago, on Valentines turned sour.
How many boyfriends had to deal with their girlfriend admitting that they'd murdered someone in cold blood ? Possibly multiple someones ? Even if it had been an enemy, it was down to the base matter that she had taken a life. Maybe multiples. Someone would need to be very, very screwed up not to let it get to them.
He wanted to believe that this was what made them different from the Negaverse, but her mixed thoughts on the matter, as well as his own, had kept him silent.
He'd done the best to assure her that it was okay, that he didn't think of her any less for it, promised not to tell anyone, and more importantly that he was certainly
not leaving unless she took a damn crowbar to his head and kicked him out herself.
For someone that was threatening to fall apart any second, he thought he'd done pretty good. But still... definitively not the valentines day he'd wanted. When those damn stitches came out, he'd make it up to her. Somehow. Someway.
Now she was resting in her room, and he was doing some idle cleaning, being at wit's ends with his own inactivity. It wasn't much, just light dusting, but it was better than melding with the couch.
The current irritation, though, was his phone. Which did not stop ringing. At all. Even Lady Gaga lamented this in his ringtone.
Stop calling, stop calling, I don't wanna talk anymore....There was only one person who had that ringtone attached to their number. It was very much a
warning to just let the damn thing ring. It stopped, and he sighed. His mother had never been this damn persistent before. Usually three tries and she got the hint.
He'd lost count how many times he'd heard his phone blaring now.
Stop calling, stop calling, I don't wanna talk anymore...GOD DAMNIT. That was it. Sarisa Duncan was going to get a piece of his mind. He dug the offending device from his pockets and answered. “WHAT. DO YOU WANT.”
For a moment, it was silent on the other side, and for a few seconds, Xavier had the faintest glimpse of hope that, perhaps, his mother had understood that he was not in the mood for her bullshit.
Alas.
”You weren't answering...” No s**t.
“I think I remember asking you a question.” Came the terse reply. Xavier was, very clearly, not in the mood for this s**t.
”Im at your door... Come open, please.”Wait... He looked toward the door. Certainly not... Oh. Apartment. Of course. Not here. Couldn't be here. Sarisa wasn't even aware Bell existed and he was certainly going to keep it that way.
“Im not home.” He answered simply. Best part was, he wasn't even lying.
”Xavier... Where are you ?! You're safe, right ? I know you're hurt...”Oh, god damn. “Who told you that.”
”It was my friend that took care of you at the ER.” Well. At least it hadn't been his father. This part was at least comforting. But damn if it didn't feel like his mother had moles planted everywhere.
”Xavier, what happened ?”“I don't remember.” It was much easier to lie to her than it was than to lie to his father. “Wrong place, wrong time, crazy terrorists business, you know ? s**t happens.”
”Why are you getting involved with terrorists ?! Dear...”“First of all.” He snapped. “I am not your 'dear'. Secondly, you might have not noticed from your little bubbles of I Can Never Do No Wrong, but it's kind of hard to avoid them when there are monsters all over the place !”
”Please, just come here, and stop being difficult... I know what's best for you.”That was it.
“No. You don't know what's best for me.” He had to remind himself that Bell was upstairs, Bell was asleep, and as much as he wanted to, he couldn't yell. “All you know is a little 6 years old boy that you left behind because your ******** didn't want to have to deal with a little brat.” These were things he had been thinking for awhile now, things that he had never said because it had been less hassle to put up with his mother's demands rather than charge against them.
Not anymore.
“Newsflash, Sarisa.” He never called her mom anymore. “Im 18. I have thoughts, I have feelings. I have hopes, and I have dreams. They don't fit your vision of me because
you do not know me and have never bothered to get to know me ever since you decided to come ******** up my life again. You just want something to shove in this mold of the ideal son that you can drag along to all your little yuppie friends. 'Cut your hair' this, 'Go to Sovereign' that, 'Give up music, go study to become a lawyer or a doctor' that. You want something to show off to your little cackling hens of an entourage in your little squats of Who Is The Best Mother. Guess what, you might have been a good mother when I was younger.
I can't ******** remember because you dropped me like a useless boot not so long after I started getting memories I could actually remember. Dad has a say in things because
he ******** raised me while you ran away.”
Silence. Nothing came out of the other end, but Xavier wasn't done.
“You want your little perfect ideal of a boy, Sarisa ? You want something you can mold and shape to the ideals you want, to something you can show off for your own gain ? Go back to your ******** and
make one. Try not to abandon him this time, it will probably help. Now do me a favor.”
”What ?” Her voice was shaky on the other end. She was probably crying. Well,
good. It was about time someone slammed her with the obvious truth.
“
Get the hell out of my life.” And with those words, he hung up, and held down the button on top of his smartphone.
It turned off before he could probably have gotten another call, thank god. But he was still left rather irritate, and the blonde sighed, taking a pen and some paper from the table. It was still soon, too soon after everything for him to just vanish without a trace for a few hours, but he just needed to get the hell away for awhile.
'My mom called. I finally told her to ******** off. I'll be back in a few hours, I need some air. Ill bring back diner.' He certainly did not feel like trying to cook again tonight, hell no.
With that, he took his jacket and was out the door. He was going somewhere. Not just anywhere, but somewhere where the world would have no mean howsoever to add anymore bullshit to the pile.
He powered the second he set foot in the dirty alley, the new phase odd and unfamiliar on his tongue. He sat, huddled between two large dumpsters, called out his phone, and concentrated.
A few minutes later, he was gone.
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