He's Been Damaged, He's Been Misused

When the bell rang at the end of the day, Kevin hastily gathered and put away all of his stuff so he could get to the front of the school as fast as he possibly could.  He narrowly dodged students clogging the hallways, accidentally bumping into a few of them, but no one really payed him any mind; people kinda liked Kevin Grease.

His chest was burning from pushing himself so hard as he made it to the front doors, leaning against them as he waited.

Chris might’ve given up so easily, but not Kevin.  Kevin convinces himself that he’s a good friend, and he’ll always be there for his friends, through thick and thin.

Kevin stands there, slumped against the wall, for around five minutes, until Ricky finally comes out, and Kevin’s suddenly overwhelmed with nerves as he pushes himself off the wall.

“Ricky!” he calls out to his friend, reaching out for him desperately when Ricky ignores him.  Kevin manages to catch Ricky’s wrist, startling the other as he whips around to face him with alertness.  It’s then that Kevin notices the earbuds plugged in, music up loud enough for Kevin to clearly hear what Ricky’s listening to.

Ricky pulls out a bud, shooting Kevin an annoyed look. “Need something?”

Kevin doesn’t even bother trying to put on a positive facade, way too drained for that; all this art work and unnecessary drama has really gotten to him these past couple of days.

Kevin removed his hand from his friend’s wrist. “Do you hate me?”

Ricky’s stone hard expression softened, looking guilty instead now.  “No, I don’t hate you.”

“Yeah… Just know I’m here for you if you need to talk. You’re my friend.”

“Okay,” is all Ricky says before turning to walk away, leaving Kevin standing there all alone.  Kevin’s not sure if this encounter has helped anything whatsoever, but he feels a little better knowing that Ricky doesn’t hate him.  He just hopes that Ricky decides to talk to him, but based off his response, the chances are looking kinda slim.