Angrophobia

So I moved to this town a few weeks ago, and it's safe to say that I hate it. I mean, can you blame me, though? It's in the middle of bum fuck nowhere and all of the people that I've met here are complete cunts. So pardon me if I'm not fucking ecstatic that I'm stuck here.

Well, I guess that I should introduce myself. I am the mighty Foster and I am not happy to be here. I guess that you could say I have some anger problems. I also guess you could say that everyone pisses me off and I have a right to be constantly pissed off at the idiots in this world. Especially when they always seem to cling onto me like leeches. So yeah, I think I'm in a right mind to be angry all the time. Plus, no one cares enough to stop me. But sometimes I see this guy and whenever I get really pissed, he just gets this look on his face that just makes me want to say sorry fifty times and hug him and kiss his little face. But whatever. I don't even know the kid anyway. Well, I heard that his name is Rylan, but I don't know anything about him except that everyone wants to beat his ass, but no one can because his brother, Aster, is really popular and really protective of him.

But he looks so damn adorable that I'm surprised anyone wants to do anything to him except for just... shrink him down and put him in their pocket and keep forever. Or not. Maybe that's just me. Damn. Whatever.

So right now, it's about in the middle of the school day, and I'm just walking in the hall, minding my own business. And then a random cuntsteak comes up, spewing the usual clichéd bullshit, drawing the attention of everyone in the hallway (including that boy with the adorable face).

"Hey faggot!" Oh, yes, I've never heard that one before. "Hey, you uh, uh, um... you like suckin' dicks? Hah, faggot!" Dear lord, was he born with no sense in his pea-sized brain? Apparently not.

"No, but do you know who does?" I ask, my temper already starting to flame. Aw, shame I have to waste it on this idiot. "Who?" he replies dumbly.

"You," I sneer, pulling up a picture on my phone of him sucking the dick of his best friend in the bathroom. Ah yes, thank you, cameras. Just the reaction of the people in the hallway is funny enough.

"That's a fucking lie! You're so dead!" he screams, face red in anger and embarrassment. But I'm ready for his punches, blocking them easily and responding with my own. But it sucks because it doesn't feel as numbingly satisfying as usual. Maybe because I hear a little whimper in the crowd that stops my heart a little bit because I can guess exactly who it came from. So, to the shock of everyone, I stop in the beginning of my assault and cough a bit, glaring down at the poor imbecile that was stupid enough to fuck with me. And as I look in the direction of that boy, I know that I was right, because there he is, standing there, arms reaching up so that his hands are clutching his shoulders, eyes wide in fear, looking so vulnerable, so terrified. That poor little thing. Just the expression on his face is enough to make me want to stop everything and make him feel better.

So with another awkward cough, I pick up my backpack and walk away, not caring enough to stay at school for the rest of the day.

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Not many people have built up the courage to talk to me as a real person rather than 'bullying' me, so I'm definitely surprised when the next week, a friendly looking boy is stopping me in the hall and holding out his hand.

"Hi," he greets cheerily, "I'm Aster. I just saw you around here and you don't seem to have many friends, so I just thought I'd try to get to know you or something."

I shrug, taking his hand and shaking it slightly. "I'm Foster. I'm new, I guess." Oh, so this is that kid's brother. Well, he seems nice enough. And maybe I could meet him through Aster. Ugh I really hope I can. That damn puppy dog face.

"Ah, so that's why I haven't seen you around before now. Well, would you like to have lunch with me and my friends? I mean, if you don't already have anyone to sit with," he offers. I shake my head. "Nah, nah, I don't. Um, yeah, sure," I agree, following the cheery boy to where his friends are sitting.

When we get there, I expect to see jocks and idiots everywhere, but I'm surprised to see people more in my crowd, which pleases me very much. I think this could be the start of something wonderful.

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This is my chance. Hopefully. Maybe. Well, now, I'm hanging out with Aster and we decided to go to his house. Yeah, I started hanging out with him and it turns out he's really a really cool dude. So, here we are, walking into his modest sized, yet still nice looking, house.

The first thing we do when we walk in is drop our backpacks off next to the door and then go to the kitchen, where a familiar, wide-eyed boy sits, eating a bowl of what looks like Cheez-its and looking at his phone.

"Oh! Rylan, this is Foster. Foster, Rylan," Aster exclaims once he sees his brother. I give Rylan a short wave and a (hopefully) unintimidating smile, hoping not to scare him off. He sort of gives me a wide-eyed stare and smiles back softly before going back to his phone. Oh well.

"Okay, is there anything you want?" Aster asks, opening the pantry to let me look. I shake my head, putting my hands in my pockets. I'm not that hungry, and as I voice that to Aster, he just shrugs.

"Suit yourself. Well, I know that I'm going to have-- Oh, goddammit! We're out," he groans. "Great, and I've been looking forward to it all day. Ugh, fuck."

I chuckle at him a bit. "Dude, you can totally go out and get some more if you want." He gasps a bit. "Really? I mean, if it's cool with you--" I cut him off with a wave of my hand. "Yeah, yeah, of course. I think I'll just stay here though. I'm feeling pretty lazy. If you're okay with that." He nods vigorously, grinning. "Yeah, definitely. I'll be back in a minute, I swear. Uh, Rylan, can you show Foster to my room?"

As Rylan nods his head vaguely, I notice that he looks really nervous. Oh, that poor kid.

"Okay, cool. So I'll be back in a minute," Aster chirps before leaning in to whisper in my ear. "And if you mess with my baby brother or hurt him at all while I'm gone, or at all, this friendship is over and you're fucking done, got it?" I nod at him, making it clear I have no intentions to hurt him. With a hesitant nod, he shouts a farewell to Rylan and makes his exit to get whatever it is he wants.

After a minute, Rylan warily stands up and stands in front of me. With a nod at me, he starts to lead the way up to where Aster's room apparently is. Once we stop in front of a door, he turns around to leave, but I attempt to stop him.

"Hey!" I call, catching his attention. But he looks terrified, oh shit. "Uh, do you wanna hang out or something? Until Aster gets back?" He says nothing still, shuffling a little in place and gripping his arm with his opposite hand. "I promise I won't hurt you or anything, I just wanna get to know you, okay? And if you feel uncomfortable or anything, I'll leave, I promise," I plead, staring into his eyes until finally, he gives a reluctant nod, to which I grin at.

"Sweet." So without any more words, he leads me to the door next to Aster's and opens it a bit, looking back at me hesitantly once more before letting out a small sigh and pushing the door open all the way to let us in. I'm prepared to start up an easy conversation, but the minute that I step into his room, I'm speechless at how fucking amazing it is. There are band posters (of bands that I like) everywhere and pictures of everything pinned up, completely covering the walls of his room.

"Dear god, your room is so awesome. I wish I could get mine like this, but whenever I try, it always ends up looking like shit. But this... it's fucking amazing," I marvel, eyes wide. And finally, the enigma speaks. "Thanks," he mutters in a soft voice that completely fits him. Not really masculine, but not feminine either. Can he get any better? My face lights up at all of the bands on his walls that I recognize.

"Ugh, I fuckin' love all of these bands," I remark, noticing the spark of interest in his eyes. "Really?" he answers.

"Yeah, totally. Like all of them. What's your favorite band?" I ask excitedly. His eyes wander for a second in thought. "Hmm, I don't know. I can't choose. What's yours?" he responds a few seconds later, finally opening up a bit.

"Hard to choose... La Dispute, I guess," I shrug. "Oh, I love them!" he exclaims cutely, excitement in his eyes. He is too damn adorable.

It's crazy how this adorable little thing that gets excited about bands and things is the same boy who goes through the halls everyday looking utterly terrified. And before I can turn my filter on, my mouth repeats my thoughts (well, not by exact words) and I mentally slap myself in the face for saying that.

"Shit, sorry, I didn't mean to say that, I swear, my mouth just--" I stammer, not wanting him to shut down again. "No, it's, uh, it's fine. I just... this is going to sound really stupid, but I kind of have a... fear of anger..." he mutters, looking up at me through his eyelashes.

"Aw, that's not stupid. You can't help it. Oh god, that makes me feel so bad now because I probably been angry every single day of high school and--ugh, I'm so sorry for that," I groan, frustrated at myself.

"It's fine, you didn't know. I mean, I can't expect everyone to base their lives around me, that's just not how the world works. I just have to kinda... deal with it, y'know," he shrugs.

"But still. Well, either way, sorry. I'm trying to get in control of my anger." Wait, why did I say that? Well, I guess I am... I guess I just never had a reason before.

"O-Oh, well, good for you, then," he mutters and before I can say anything else, I hear the door open and Aster's familiar voice carries through the house.

"I'm back!" he calls, startling both Rylan and me. He blushes a bit, looking down at his lap. "Well, this was nice, but do you wanna hang out again sometime?" I propose quickly. "Yeah, sure," he agrees. "Cool. So can I have your number?" I ask slyly, grinning on the inside. Rylan blushes a bit more but agrees, taking my phone to enter in his number. By the time that he gives my phone back, Aster's opening his door and noticing that I'm not there.

"Foster? Where are you?" he exclaims, causing me to pocket my phone and walk out of Ryan’s room, much to Aster's chagrin. After shoving me into his room, he stays outside, talking to Rylan, for a minute or so before he comes back in, looking stern.

"You swear you didn't do anything to my brother at all?" Aster asks. "Of course I didn't do anything. We just sat there and talked. I mean, I've seen him around school and stuff and I just wanted to... talk to him, I don't know. But I didn't do anything," I reply genuinely. Aster just stares at me for a few more seconds sternly, trying to see if I'll break, and then sighs in defeat. "Okay. I just... I have to be careful about this shit because a lot of people want to fuck with him and I just don't want that to happen, y'know?"

"Yeah, I feel ya; I noticed that he's not exactly the most loved guy around here. I don't see why though, I mean he's so sweet and innocent, like how could people wanna fuck with him instead of just..."

"Adore him?" Aster finishes, amused. "Uh, yeah. That. But yeah. Then again, I'm not surprised that people are trying to fuck with him because everyone in that school seems like such a dick. You're literally the only person that's ever come up to talk to me with good intentions. You and Rylan are the basically only people I even like. I barely tolerate everyone else," I scoff, rolling my eyes.

"Yeah, I'm just lucky that I have my group of friends or else I would've gone crazy. But hey, at least you're not alone anymore. You have us now." Yeah, I guess I do.

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My name is Rylan and I am not happy to be here. I have a lot of issues and not a lot of friends. Actually, I only have one friend, Avery, but I don't really mind because he's been my best friend since kindergarten. Oh, and also, I have this stupid, irrational fear of... anger. Just... when things start to get too angry and violent, I start to... remember things. Remember things I'd rather just repress.

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"Get your ass in here, boy, and tell me why you didn't put the fuckin' bread up!" he screams at me from the other room. Even at the tender age of 6, I already know what's coming, and I close my eyes and try to shut out the bad memories that 6 year olds shouldn't have. But I wipe the tears from my eyes and shuffle into the room, trying not to waste time because he hates it when I waste time and try to put off the punishment I deserve. That's what he always says. I deserve it.

When I walk in the room, the first thing I smell is that horrible stench that always makes him really mean. And I keep my eyes on the ground, careful not to look at his face, because I know if I do, I'll start crying again.

"C'mere, boy. Stop yer damn crying and get over here, ya pansy," he grumbles, and I know that things will only go downhill. "Now why did I call you in here? Don't you I tell you every goddamn time not to leave the fucking bread out?! Well, maybe this time, I can beat the message into your ass. Go get me my belt." I don't understand why he always makes me get the belt because he always ends up forgetting to use it and just punching me himself. But I can't argue with him or it'll make him mad.

I walk back in front of him a few minutes later, holding out the belt shakily, still trying not to look at his face. "Now, come here," he demands, but I hesitate. "Don't make me fucking ask again!" he fumes. I'm sobbing by now, I can tell by his voice that he's mad again, and it's going to hurt a lot again.

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As I looked up at the face of my father, mangled by hatred and anger and disgust, I just remember thinking that if this is what happens when people get angry, I never want it to happen again. And whenever I see that look on someone's face, it just... brings back bad memories to the point where I can't breathe and I feel like someone really, really bad is going to happen immediately. I just can't deal with it anymore.

And since then, I've tried to live my life in solitude to avoid getting close to someone who'll just end up hurting me and leaving scars on me just like my own father did. And then he came. He is most likely the most angry person I have ever encountered. Well, maybe the second most angry, but you get the point. But still, just thinking of going to school and witnessing the hatred in his expression and the bitter, horrible things he would say just made live in fear, even though we'd never even met before.

But then one day, it changed. He stopped before he could really do anything. For some reason, he chose to practice great restraint. And it just... confused the fuck out of me. I've never seen anyone in the stage of anger ever stop like that. I didn't know what to think of it. And then he became friends with my brother and when I saw him come in with Aster, I thought I was about to have a damn near heart attack. I mean, I didn't show it or anything, but still.

He surprised me again though. He wasn't like the others. Foster was sweet, he was considerate, he actually cared about my feelings. All of the other people that I've met just got me alone and tried to mess with me. There was no physical proof though. But for once, I didn't feel threatened or afraid. I know, with the one person I should be afraid of most. I mean, who am I to believe that he's actually telling the truth and not just trying to fuck me over? Well, I guess I don't know. A part of me doesn't want to risk it, but a part of me does. I guess I just have to see how things go.

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So, Foster and I have been friends for a few weeks now, and it's been really nice. I mean, getting to know has helped me understand more how angry he used to be, how alone he felt and how he needed to lash out and protect himself. I'm starting to feel more and more comfortable around him, and ugh, I hate it, but I have a huge crush on him. I mean, who can blame me though? For one, he's gorgeous; two, he's sweet and considerate of me and has been since we met; three, he's helped me get past my phobia a little bit, more than anyone's ever been able to help me before; four, just being around him will brighten your day. And it just makes being around him more invigorating than usual.

And we've both gotten some shit from school because we've gotten pretty close recently, so we hang out a lot and we're together all the time, so everyone's started calling us the faggot couple. I wish we were a couple shh. But it doesn't really bother us much. Plus, it hasn't gotten to the point of abuse. Until one day...

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Foster and I walk side by side through the hall like usual, talking about stupid stuff. And then [insert Pokémon music here] a wild ignoramus appears! Wonderful...

"Hey, faggots. So, I was wondering, who's the top? 'Cause there's no way that that pussy of a guy there could ever do that," one of the top idiots blathers dumbly. Wow...

"What are you achieving by doing this, idiot? What are you trying to cover up? We all know you're gay, too. It's proved by that fucking picture I showed everyone. Or do I need to pull it up again?" Foster threatens with a smirk. But it's not as hostile as usual.

"Oh, no, I'm not trying to cover anything up, I was just wondering if I could borrow his sweet little ass for a minute. I'm sure you won't mind sharing him." My face, already red with embarrassment, goes even brighter, and I hide my face in my sleeve. Foster growls a bit next to me, basically fuming with anger. But after a few seconds, I notice that nothing's happened. Within seconds, Foster's face clears and he takes a few deep breaths, a smirk taking over his face.

"Oh, I do mind sharing, so you'd better stay as fucking far away as you can possible get from Rylan or else I will beat your ass so hard, that you'll be nothing more than a bloodstain on the pavement. But it's all okay, because I know why you do this. I know that you do this because you're so ashamed and unsatisfied with your pathetic excuse for a life, covering up every true fact about yourself that you have to look to violence and truly ignorant, idiotic, boringly consistent insults to get reactions so that you can feel again. So take my advice and see a goddamn therapist or something and LEAVE US THE FUCK ALONE!" Foster roars, leaving a shell-shocked boy behind as he grabs my wrist and drags us off through the hallways now filled with complete silence. Jesus Christ superstar, that was... amazing. I probably would've freaked out more at the contact if I wasn't so fucking shocked.

About a mile away from the school, we finally stop to catch our breath.

"I have a feeling that he'll be leaving us alone from now on," Foster wheezes. "Why do you say that?" I ask.

He smirks, holding up his phone to show me the text from my brother saying that the guy, Evan, broke down crying in the middle of the hallway and his mom picked up and when someone told her what happened, she freaked out and said she's sending him to therapy. Well, shit. I didn't even know that shit happened outside of movies.

"Are you okay though?" he asks. Oh, Foster, always worrying about me first... "Yeah, I'm fine. Somehow. Are you okay? You did really well in there by the way. Not just in telling him off. You really controlled yourself well."

"Yeah, I'm fine. It's easier now to control it. I just found out how to let it simmer down and let myself calm down," he explains. "Oh, really? How do you do it? Control it, that is," I ask curiously. "Uh, don't think I'm weird, but I think of you. And I just kind of calm down, because I know that it upsets you when I do it, and I don't wanna upset you," he rambles. A few seconds later, I knock him over with a hug.

"That's the nicest thing that anyone's ever said to me," I whisper happily, a content smile on my face. "Well, you deserve it." And oh shit, those words. Oh no, not here. Not here.

Seconds pass and Foster starts to realize that something's wrong. "Rylan? What's wrong? What happened?" But I can barely hear him, too immersed in the memories flooding into my head. All of the lashings, all of the fists, all of the kicks, all of the screams that no one heard, all of the scars that are still on my body to this day. As the memories finally start to come to a close, my body is shaking from the sobs tearing through my throat.

"Rylan? Rylan? Oh god, I'm so sorry," he whispers, sitting next to me, cautious about touching me. He places a gentle touch on my shoulder, and I flinch, but as he pulls the hand back, I reach forward and wrap my arms around his middle like a human-sized teddy bear.

Finally, my sobs die down to small sniffles and whimpers, and I start pulling at the grass a bit, too ashamed to look at Foster.

"Rylan? Are you okay?" he asks. I shrug. "I don't know. I don't know if I'll ever be okay," I mumble, pulling at the grass harder. "Are-are you comfortable with talking about it? It's okay if you're not..."

I shrug. "I guess. I mean, it all started when I was young. It's the typical clichéd story. Mom and Dad got divorced when I was really young, and Aster and I got split up; he was with Mom and I was with Dad. And well, Dad came out on the bad side of the divorce. He started drinking really badly and he would go crazy over every little thing I'd do to the point where he'd... beat me until I passed out. And sometimes, he would even keep going after that. I remember once passing out and waking out to him still going at it. But finally when I was about 11, he started getting sloppy and people started noticing the bruises. Especially Aster. And so, after some investigating, they arrested him and I went and lived with Mom and Aster, and that's where I've been since. And he's been locked up since then. But, uh, sometimes, if people get... mad enough, it starts to trigger the memories that I've tried to forget. And it just... fucks things up a lot, y'know?" I sniffle, arranging the grass in my palm.

"Oh my god, Rylan, I'm so sorry. And... Oh no, I can't even imagine what I did to you. I am so fucking sorry, you don't even know," Foster states, enveloping me in a hug.

"I-It's fine... I mean, things have been getting better since I met you. And that's good. But, just... he used to say those words a lot. 'You deserve it.' Sorry that I kinda freaked out," I mumble, too embarrassed to look at him.

"It's nothing to apologize about, Ry. You can't help it. I'm fine with comforting you, I just hate seeing you like this," he insists. I shrug. "It's just weird. I'm not used to anyone except for Aster caring."

"Oh, sometimes I think I care too much," he mutters. "H-huh?" Too much? But what does that mean? "I know that this is a really, really bad time, but I really like you, Rylan." And that knocks me speechless. Holy shit, I've never had someone like me. Especially someone as perfect and caring and wonderful as Foster. "And it's totally fine if you don't--" But I cut him off with a shake of my head.

"I like you, too," I whisper, my cheeks burning in embarrassment. But it's worth it to see his beautiful eyes light up like a Christmas tree. "Really?"

I nod shyly. "Really."

ᕙ(⇀‸↼‶)ᕗᕙ(⇀‸↼‶)ᕗᕙ(⇀‸↼‶)ᕗᕙ(⇀‸↼‶)ᕗᕙ(⇀‸↼‶)ᕗ

My name is Rylan, and I think that I'm finally starting to be happy here.