All the Stars on Your Ceiling

No matter how hard they tried, neither Kellin nor Oli could bounce back after Mike’s outburst. His anger had struck guilt into their hearts as they thought over their mistakes, regretting each idiotic action that had dragged them down so low. Kellin couldn't get Vic’s tear-filled eyes out of his head. They had been burnt into his eyelids, the memory of them refreshed with each blink, and the boy could feel himself beginning to lose it. Oli was sat silently beside him, staring at his knees through the rips in his jeans and tracing his fingertip against the ink peeking from underneath the fabric. He continued as he met the fraying edge of his jeans, movements vague and distracted as they tried to remember the patterns hidden underneath them. Kellin watched too, somewhat mesmerised, until Oli’s movements trailed to a stop. They both merely sat and stared at nothing, the silence growing more oppressive as time crawled on. Apparently, Oli could no longer take it. He moved suddenly, drawing his legs up in what seemed to be preparation to stand. He looked to Kellin.
“Wanna sneak out the gates before break’s over?”
Kellin, still slightly dazed from his sudden return to reality, nodded without hesitation and followed Oli in standing.

They picked up their bags from where they had dumped them under an old desk to prevent them from getting wet and made their way back into the small hallway. They assured the roof door was secured before listening to any noise from the outer hallway. Upon hearing nothing, they dodged quickly out of the door and shut it silently behind them. The hallway, as suspected, was completely empty. Since there were no lockers on the top floor, no one had any reason to be up there anyway other than the toilets - though they were rarely used thanks to the physical exertion it required to reach them. A few students stood surrounding the few lockers tucked against the sides of the second floor hallway but they did not glance twice at Kellin and Oli, who made their way casually between the small groups. Significantly more people were stood on the ground floor, likely seeking shelter from the bitter cold, and it took a few ‘excuse me’s and several ‘dammit, move’s to reach the doors leading to the front of the school. As usual, crowds of year elevens stood in the sheltered cranny outside of the small gym behind A block, but most of them thankfully moved to allow the two boys to finally reach G block. The warmth of the hallway was savoured as it surrounded them both as they climbed the stairs leading to the school’s entrance, making their way past the office as if they were going to the arts centre or music department. Kellin went so far as to smile at the woman sat irritably behind the desk in the office, who returned the smile in an exhausted kind of way that suggested she only bothered because he was a ‘charming’ student, favoured by the teachers, at least.

Oli held the doors as Kellin walked through, then Kellin held the next, until they were out of the foyer and basically free. Instead of turning right, which lead down the uneven pathway to the arts centre and T block (the music department), they turned left and walked through the small car park, dodging around the wall holding the school’s former entrance and exit gates before it started. They sneered at the industrially padlocked wrought iron gates, stood tall and menacing and utterly redundant, continuing left until they met the road.
“Which way d’you wanna go?” Oli asked, dodging around the corner so they were at least out of direct sight of the school. They could either continue straight down, which would lead them to the train station and rock bar, or go around through one of the residential areas. Both paths met up near the road to the larger shopping district and more expensive residential area - near where Kellin lived, and lead down to the smaller, shittier area of town with cheaper houses and generic shops - around where Oli lived.
“You wanna just hang out at the rock bar?” Kellin suggested, beginning to wander down the residential path. Oli followed, shaking his head.

“Nah, the bartender’ll end up telling Tom I was there - he’ll dob me in to mum. ‘N I don’t exactly wanna hafta walk home holding my little brother’s hand for the rest of the year.”
Kellin laughed. “Is your mom home yet?”
“Working late, she prob’ly won’t be back ‘til tea time.”
“Then why don’t we just go to yours?” Kellin suggested, “We can act like we just got back when Tom gets in. Even if he doesn’t believe us, he’s pretty weak to bribery, y’know?”
Snorting, Oli nodded, remembering many lost chocolate bars sacrificed to buy his brother’s silence. “We could probably just go down to the shitty old park down by the river. Hide out there and come back after he gets in, say we stayed late at school then went into town or something.”
“Saying we willingly stayed at school for longer than necessary when we actually skipped half the day? Pretty much sums us up,” Kellin snickered, “But that’s a pretty good plan, honestly.”
“All my plans are good,” Oli replied smugly, signature smirk split into a shameless grin as he attempted to dodge Kellin’s backhand to his shoulder. The two broke into laughter, making their way stumbling and shouting to Oli’s house on the other side of town.

Needless to say, the suburban streets weren’t exactly crowded at eleven in the morning on a Monday. Only the older residents of town, being lead mindlessly by greying dogs on shaky legs, were wandering the streets. Those acquaintances of their parents occasionally gave them a suspicious look, but it was obvious that none cared enough to actually raise alarm on their skipping. They reached Oli’s house in about forty-five minutes, almost impressive considering their pace, and Oli swung his backpack down to dig through the front pocket for his keys. He pulled them from his pocket and decided against doing it up, simply hooking his bag on his arm as he unlocked the door and made his way inside. Kellin shut the door behind him without being prompted, surveying the haphazard hallway of the Sykes’ home. It was messier than it had been when he was last there a few days previously; keys with too many keychains were strewn about the table against the left wall, shoes (those belonging to Tom and Oli, in particular) left wherever they fell when they were kicked off. Oli’s ratty black Converse were added to the mess as he yanked them off without undoing the laces (cut off into fraying stumps many years ago, and tied in a knot too tight to undo but loose enough to get the shoes on and off without having to), but Kellin’s moderate upbringing prevented him from doing the same. He placed his Vans neatly next to the table, but they seemed out of place in the mess. Attempting to suppress the urge to organize the rest of the shoes, he merely followed Oli upstairs to his room.

Oli’s room was the one on the left of the landing, constantly draughty in a way that wasn't particularly unpleasant thanks to the large window that couldn't fully close. The walls were painted black (a project taken on by the brothers while their parents were away for the weekend several years ago), though each not taken up by the window was covered floor to ceiling in posters and drawings and photographs accumulated over the years. Kellin liked Oli’s room; it was chaotic in a way his never could be, and the mess felt refreshing in a life of organisation and neatness. He stepped over a pile of CDs and sprawled out on Oli’s unmade bed, back against a crumpled up Metallica poster blue-tacked to the wall beside it, watching as the boy moved through the minefield of his own possessions and turned on the TV balanced atop the dresser in the corner opposite the bed.
“You wanna play something?” Oli asked, turning on his Playstation 2 and motioning for Kellin to retrieve the controllers from the floor. While doing so, Kellin grabbed the case of Metal Gear Solid 2 and threw it to the other boy. It hit the dresser and fell again to the floor, earning a snort from Kellin and a heatless glare from Oli as he retrieved it and placed the disk in the console before struggling to the bed to sprawl next to his friend.

They lost track of time completely as they played, yelling and laughing and cursing with complete disregard to any neighbours they may have been disturbing. The only thing that brought them out of their bubble of unreality was the sound of a key in the front door. Immediately, Oli muted the TV before it could be heard and turned it off. He pushed Kellin to sit up and remained stood by the TV, hopefully to create the illusion that they had only just got in.
“Oli?” Tom called from the bottom of the stairs, likely after discovering that the door was unlocked.
“Hey!” Oli called back, “Gimme a sec, I'll come down. Kellin’s here.”
Kellin struggled up from the bed and followed Oli downstairs. The younger of the Sykes brothers was stood in the hallway, bag still on his shoulder and suspicion in his eyes.
“When’d you get in?” he asked, eyes moving between his brother and Kellin, who had been by Oli’s side for so long he may as well have been his brother too.
“While ago,” said Oli casually, “We were let out kind of early.”
Tom rolled his eyes, “Matt told me you weren't in last lesson.”
“Which one?”
“Kean.”
“That dobbing bastard!”
Tom laughed. “Look, I won't tell mum--”
“I'm not doing you any stupid favours.”
“You want me to tell mum you were skipping again?”
Groaning, Oli gave in. “Fine, you fuckin’ gremlin. What d’you want?”
“Mum baked a cake or whatever for the new neighbours a few doors down. She told me to go take it, but I can't be bothered - so you two go.”
“Why don't you just come with us?” Kellin asked, “Then you're technically still doing what your mom asked, even though you don't have to do anything.”
“Don't make it easier for him!” Oli cried in mock outrage as Tom nodded.
“Eye for an eye, man,” Kellin explained with a grin, tugging on his shoes, “Now you got this on him, he owes you.”
Rolling his eyes, Oli opened the door to the kitchen and went to collect whatever baked goods his mother deemed necessary for their neighbours’ lives. He slammed the fridge door with his hip and returned to the hallway with a Victoria Sponge cake inside a clear plastic container, “Welcome!” written sloppily on the top in icing sugar.
“Bit patronizing, isn’t it?” Oli commented sarcastically, moving out of the way as he attempted to yank his shoes on one-handed so Tom could hold the door for him. Kellin trailed after and turned to watch Tom lock the door again after dropping his bag onto the floor next to his brother’s.
“This way,” the youngest of the three said as he began to lead the way to their new neighbours’ residence. Kellin only then noticed how odd they looked; Oli with his tattoos and ratty old band shirt holding a homemade cake, Tom marching proudly in front of them like the leader of the worst parade ever, and Kellin trailing behind them both in his designer clothes and Vans (a gift he had been almost reluctant to receive.)

Suddenly, Tom halted and Oli made a noise of panic as he narrowly avoided colliding with his back. Kellin let out a bark of laughter and attempted to suppress his snickering once Oli turned to glower murderously at him.
“Come on, idiots,” Tom said, clicking his fingers to return attention to him.
“Come on what?” Oli asked. His brother gave him a withering look, pointing aggressively to the porch they were stood in front of.
“Oh.”
Kellin took the lead as they walked up the garden path and onto the poorly-painted porch, which creaked alarmingly as they climbed its steps. Tom waited at the bottom, watching as Kellin approached the door and pressed the doorbell with an odd air of apprehension. Silence. They waited several long moments, before Ton declared that perhaps the neighbours weren't in. Oli shook his head, “The doorbell’s just broken. Knock.”
Kellin obeyed and knocked forcefully on the wooden door. Sun-cracked paint flaked from the surface and fluttered to the floor in a way that was perhaps more eerie than it should have been. Again, they waited.

After several moments, they were prepared to give up, until they heard the sound of movement from inside. They turned back to the door and backed away slightly, preparing for it to fly open. Kellin mustered his best “charming young man” smile and prepared a spiel of pleasantries for whoever opened the door, but the words died suddenly in his throat as he drew the breath to form them. In the doorway, stood bruised and trembling, was Vic Fuentes.