Forever and Never

Craig and I are holed up in my room, watching some stupid movie. Smoke floats up to the ceiling and Craig is acting incredibly laid back and silly. He's leaning against me, his red eyes scanning the walls as if he's never seen them before. He's pretty damn high. Me, not so much, but whatever. I'm not really in the mood to smoke, I guess. I'm tired.

"Dude," he starts, "your brother and his little fucking faggot friend are here, did you know? Like, downstairs."

He taps his finger against the floor and smiles lazily, crossing his legs. I shake my head and roll my eyes and say, "He's not my brother. His mom just fucked my dad enough and now he lives here." He laughs at my description and just stretches out when I get up, lying across the floor and giggling at the movie every so often. He starts talking about how the dark is associated with the cold because "the coldest people have the darkest souls, man."

Apparently.

He swears he's a fucking genius when he's high, saying these weird things and stringing things together that have nothing in common with each other. If I'm being honest, I gotta say it's really cute. He's cute. Fucker. Last time I felt this way about somebody, I got my heart ripped out, but Craig is Craig and I really can't help it.

"Roooonnie," he whines, still smiling, still stretched out. By now, I have crawled onto my bed and I really don't wanna be bothered, but fuck, I have no choice. I did invite him over, after all.
"You should go get food. Do you have some? You should go get some."

I'm sure I should. With a roll of my eyes, I get up and head towards my door, nudging him with my foot on the way. He just laughs and tells me to hurry up. He knows he gets hungry when he smokes, he should just bring food upstairs with him so he doesn't have to bother me. Asshole.

I practically run downstairs and find Ryan and Ron on the couch, laughing to each other about a whole bunch of nothing. Ron notices me first and shoots me a nasty glare, to which I flip him off and mutter, "Suck a dick." Ryan just looks between us and remains silent, which is the best choice. He looks lost, really, as he always does when Ron and I go at it. He sinks into the cushions and Ron sits on his knees, flipping me off right back. How original, right?

Whatever. I don't have the time to give a shit about Ron, I really don't. I walk into the kitchen and notice a note on the fridge from Ron's mom and my dad saying they'll be back later, which means tomorrow or the day after. I ball the Post-It up and toss it in the trash, looking for some kind of food that will shut Craig up. Really, he's gonna eat anything I bring back upstairs, so.

I take some random snacks and head back without a single glance Ron's way. I just sing out, "Fuck you!" as I hit the stairs, and before he can say anything smart back, I'm already on the second floor. I could care less about what he and Ryan are doing down there. They're far away from my shit, so I really don't care.

When I open the door to my room, Craig is literally sitting right at the doorway. It startles me and I jump back, getting all defensive. He laughs at me, falling onto his back and giggling away. I throw a bag of chips at him and say, "You are a horrible person." He sits up and shrugs, still giggling and the laughter causes his shoulders to shake and his body to twitch a little. Why the hell do I have a crush on him again?

"You brought food!" he says once he's recovered. "You're awesome."
"I know."

He snorts and rips open the chips in a hurry so he can throw one at my face. He's occasionally about seven years old mentally, so I expect nothing less from this dick. I throw it back and then he throws more and we keep tossing chips back and forth and sure, we eat some every so often, but most of them end up on the flor. He throws a few cookies at me, too. I don't throw them back, though, because no way I'm wasting them. Suddenly he stops with the food fight and looks at his backpack, slumped against the wall.

"I have porn and more weed in there," he mutters. A smile breaks across his face and he laughs and adds, "It's like a goodie bag, like the ones you get at parties? But...better. Because they don't give you that in party bag things." God, he's so weird. I laugh at him because yeah, his backpack is totally a gift bag or what-the fuck-ever. Before I can say anything about that, he says, "But y'know what would be better? Sleep. I'm tired."

I'm on my bed when he says this, so he crawls up beside me and gets under the covers and he comes out just a little to hold onto my waist. I stiffen up some. He's gotta be fucking kidding. Why is he torturing me? He rests his head on my chest and he doesn't have those sunglasses on, so he looks cute and I hate him for this, okay, I really do, because he's killing me. I wish I could just let him know how I'm feeling so I could stop holding onto this shit, but I can't.

He doesn't even know I'm gay, for fuck's sake. He doesn't know anything, not even the fact that Oli and I were together for months. He doesn't know shit, and for now, I intend to keep it that way. I don't want my best friend turning on me for something as simple as sexuality.

I let out a tired, annoyed sigh. The movie is still on and it's stupid, Craig is being unfairly cute, and Ron exists. It's all just annoying and the best thing I can do is join Craig in La La Land and try and sleep some of my pissiness off.



Thank God Ronnie went back upstairs. Maybe this isn't the safest place to do this, the wide open living room?

"Hey, Ry, let's go upstairs to my room."

He nods, looking behind him as if someone's about to hop from the shadows. I snicker and pull him up the stairs, because he's so paranoid that Ronnie or his fucking king Craig is gonna find us. They don't care about us. As long as we stay quiet, they'll get high off their asses and forget we're here.

We make it to my room with no problems. I peek into Ronnie's room, since the door's cracked, and see him fast asleep with Craig clinging to him. They'd be cute if I didn't hate Ronnie and become severely annoyed by Craig, I guess.

I close the door behind us and throw the journal at Ryan, who fumbles with it and then holds it like it's diseased. Maybe it is. I mean, it is Ronnie's. I wanted to read it in class, but I didn't want to do it without someone to laugh with.

"Ron," he whines, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. "Wh-Are you sure we should do this? I feel really bad about it. This is private, right?"
"I don't give a shit," I snap, sitting on the carpet beside the wonderfully attractive boy with a too-big conscience. "He's earned it by being such an asshole."

He shrugs, still feeling weird about this, probably. He passes the journal to me, rubbing his palms on his dark jeans and looking a little guilty. We haven't even done anything yet! But I throw an arm around his shoulder and say, "It'll be fine, Ry. I swear."

With that, I remove my arm from around him (he was so warm, God) and open the journal, skipping the first page. Ryan leans into me, his face basically pressed up against mine, and it's so nice oh my God and I think I'm dying because he's pressed up against me oh shit and dammit, he moved somewhat. Ryan, with his pretty face, shifts so he isn't invading my personal space (though I really don't mind), and points at something.

"Ron, read it, read it."

First real page and already, we've apparently got something good. I start reading, just as Ryan demanded, and I have to reread it to make sure I'm reading right. I always knew Ronnie and that Oli Sykes had a thing, I really did. They were in my house, I mean, it was totally obvious and I'm not a fucking idiot. But I didn't know Ronnie was capable of any emotions other than annoyance and anger.

From this, it sounds like he loved Oli. A lot.

Shit.

That and he wanted Oli to, and I quote, "fuck him 'til sundown." Gross. Also, who knew Ronnie was a bottom? But no, gross.

"I didn't know your brother was gay," Ryan gasps, taking the journal from my hands. Now he's interested, his eyes wide and his mouth dropping into a perfect 'O'. He looks adorable, I've gotta say.
"He's no brother of mine. He's just here because his dad fucked my mom into marriage."

Ryan laughs lightly, sounding distracted, and tells me I'm funny. That, honestly, makes my heart do a little girly bullshit flutter thing. I like it.

"Hey, hey, Ron, come here."

I mean, I never moved. I shift a little closer and read what he's pointing at. It's another little paragraph, dated a few months after Ronnie broke up with Oli. Why is this shit out of order? Does Ronnie have no sense of organization?

"so let's just get this straight: i hate oliver. i want him dead and fucking gone. but i hate ron more. because he knew. and he's a fucking piece of shit and i want him to BURN IN HELL. also i guess i can focus back on craig now. he's still hot. still perfect. dick. god i hate life."

Oh, he wants Oli gone, but me to burn in hell? How unfair. Ryan looks up at me expectantly, asking me what happened without using any words at all. I don't know why Ronnie hates me so much, but I have a sneaking suspicion. There's just no way he could know, though, right? Right? There's no way. No way in Hell.

"I dunno," is all I say in response. He shrugs and turns the page, mumbling something about how guilty he feels going through someone's personal shit. Whoops. "Hey, he writes poetry, too? He's just a big sap."

I look at the words in question and almost burst into laughter. Big, bad Ronnie Radke writes flowery poetry. That's adorable.

One last chance to reverse this curse
You stole my fucking heart
But I had it first

That little stanza is written all over the place and maybe it's not so flowery, but still, fact of the matter is that Ronnie isn't as badass as he thinks. There's other little words scribbled around, and none of them are particularly loving. Then there's Craig's name, scratched into the middle of the page. With hearts all around it.

Now that is laugh-worthy.

Ryan and I are doubling over with laughter, pointing at it and giggling our asses off. This seems like it's straight out of the notebook of some Disney Channel teenager. It's hilarious. We look closer and see Oli's name scratched out (what he thought was) completely, and it's just even better. He's in love with that asshole, which is why he follows Craig around like he doesn't have a brain of his own. It's just too much.

"R-Ryan, c'mere!" I manage through my laughter, turning the page. It's sappy shit about how he's "so afraid" to care about someone like he does Craig. He's "in so deep" and he's "so afraid." Hah. "He's in looove!"
"Aww!"

We keep laughing and flipping through pages, finding some graphic stuff about what Ronnie wants to do to Craig and what he wants Craig to do to him. It goes out of order, too, rewinding back into Ronnie and Oli's relationship and he talks about how he doesn't mind the domination or the pain and how "fucking hot!" Oli's accent is when he's talking low and pushing in. Gross. Thing is, it only makes us laugh more.

Ryan and I make jokes about what we've read so far, and he's so close to me I can smell his cologne. God, yes. His laugh is adorable, by the way, and he's so cute when he's lost in his amusement. He continues to laugh and so do I and we throw some of the poetry (maybe those were lyrics?) that we found back and forth at each other and it's great until I feel someone grab the back of my collar.

Shit. Shit. Shit a million times. Shit.

I'm yanked to my feet and I'm cursing myself because how did I forget to lock the door?

When I twist and turn to try and get a better look at who's holding me, I mutter, "Fuck." It's Ronnie, and man, he looks pissed. His eyes are narrowed and full of fire and it'a the look he gets right before we fight, but it's never been this bad. Ryan has scrambled into the corner, knees pulled to his chest, eyes wide and dark hair falling into his pretty face. Oh, shit.



I throw Ron to the ground before he can say a word in his defense. I see one of my journals on the floor and Ron looks guilty as all fuck and Ryan looks like he's about to die, he's so afraid.

Craig is hanging by the door, not so sleepy and not so high, which means he's pretty dangerous right now. He knows I'm pissed, so he keeps his distance for a moment. I snatch Ron up, hold onto his short arms and keep him on the ground so his arms have to stretch. He shouts out something, but I don't care. Probably just a cry of pain.

"You woke Craig and I up with your laughing, asshole. So you went through my shit?"
"N-No."

Does he really think now's the time to lie to my face?

"One more time, Ficarro. Did you go through my shit?"

I twist his right arm and drop his left and he yelps out in distress. He whimpers and says, "Yeah, okay, I did, I did, okay? Fuck!" Sounds like it hurts. Oh, well. I twist his arm a little more and he screams again, so I drop it because he's getting loud. Craig has made his way to Ryan and snatched him up by the arms, switching into his fighting mood. He's looking for a reason to hit someone. I mean, Ryan read my shit, too. He didn't stop Ron. He's guilty.

Ron hisses and holds his right arm and spits at my leg, since he's sitting and he ain't so tall.

"You're an asshole," he says before a wicked smirk spreads across his face. "S'that why Oli left your sorry ass?"

I want nothing more than to murder Ron, honestly. I swear, if I didn't risk going to prison by ripping his head off, he'd be dead as a doorknob. Fucker. I spare a glance at Craig, who is looking at me in confusion. Ron has just effectively outed me.

"What's that look, Craig didn't know you liked dick, huh? Well, he knows now. Maybe he should know how much you like hi--"

I cut him off with a blow to his jaw. He shouts out and then jumps at me, hands around my throat. I manage to punch him in the gut and he lets go, but I don't stop there. I keep punching him over, over, over, and he's given up fighting back and just shields his face. He starts kicking after a moment, though, and nails me in my face, making me stumble back and fall on my ass. I risk another glance at Craig and he's wailing on Ryan, who is biting his lip and trying not to scream. He doesn't fight back, never does. He's not Ron. It's hard to watch.

But they shouldn't have read my shit.

"What'd you read, huh? What'd you read?" I snap, grabbing Ron by the collar. He glares at me and smirks and says,
"Enough to know you're in love with your king over there," as he gestures toward Craig, who has Ryan up against the wall and laughing at him. "That and you're not as strong as you say you are. That you got your heart broken."

I drop Ron and punch him one more time for good measure, knocking that smirk right off of his smug face. I hate him. I do. I swear, I've never hated anyone more. I need to get out of here before I kill the bitch.

"Craig. Get off him."
"But it's so--"
"Now."

I have never controlled Craig before - no one has - but he listens. He lets go of Ryan and wipes the blood from Ryan's lip and says, "Whatever you say, baby." I slam the door behind us and I start walking back into my room, but Craig stops me by holding onto my wrist. His knuckles are blood. Mines are a little. Well.

"Hey, did you...for Oli to have left you, he had to have been with you, right?"

Dammit, here it is.

I shake my head and sigh and I can't look at him. No way.

"He didn't leave me. I left him."

He nods and lets go of me, rubbing his arm. He's unusually awkward and I'm unusually awkward. I hate this. I knew he was gonna act different around me, I fucking knew it. But then he puts a hand on my cheek - it's sore, since honestly, Ron got in a good punch or two before he started covering his face - and smiles softly at me. It's an abnormally soft side of Craig that I've only seen, like, once.

"Y'know I don't care, right?"
"You don't?"

He shakes his head and lets his hand drop.

"No way, baby."

Okay, I really like when he calls me that.

He almost says something more, but then he pulls his phone out of his pocket and curses, his eyes widening and looking a little panicked. He starts toward the steps, suddenly rushing.

"I'm sorry, Ronnie, but I gotta go. Now. I'll see you, though, okay?"

Then, just like that, he's gone. And despite what he said about how he doesn't care, I feel like he left so fast because of me. Great. I almost walk into my room, but I pause in the hallway so I can shout, "I fucking hate you, Ficarro!" because once again, Ron has ruined another thing of mine. First it was a relationship, now it's a friendship.

I will always hate him, I decide as I slam my door and lock it behind me. Always.



Once we deemed it safe, Ryan and I snuck to the bathroom to assess the damage and wash the blood away.

We got our asses handed to us. We really did.

Ryan sniffles a little, but he's not crying. I wouldn't be able to handle it if he was. I'd murder Craig my damn self. Blood paints the inside of the sink a weird pink, but it mixes with water and slides right down the drain, so I don't have to worry about explain that to my mom or Mr. Radke. Even he isn't so bad, it's his son. I hope I struck a nerve when I told Ronnie what I read. I hope Craig is disgusted by him. I hope he's left all alone.

When we're all clean and just sore, Ryan says, "Maybe I should go," in this sad, quiet voice. It hurts my heart. I grab his hand before he even leaves the bathroom so I can plead with him.

"Wait, Ry, don't go. I'm sorry for what happened, I am. It's all my fault and I accept that, but please, please don't go."

And he caves. Fuck yes. He doesn't pull away and head downstairs, doesn't leave me here by myself. He just starts smiling a little and nods and says, "Fine. For you."

I really like that he's staying for me.