it's negative attention at best

by yourlocalcupnoodle (inkandteaxx)

Summary:

“Yuwen.”

His head snapped back up at the sound of his mom’s voice. “Yeah?” he responded, trying not to sound nervous. “What’s up?”

She sighed, still not looking at him, as she scrubbed her face with one hand. “Your father is going to be staying with us for a week.”

His body went cold.

 

Or: An AU where Yuwen's not-so-great dad comes back for a place to crash. But Yuwen's doing great, don't worry about him.

Chapter 1

The afternoon sun blazed above the field, and Yuwen could practically feel his hair wilting underneath his hat.

He ignored the heat and smirked, tossing the ball up and down a couple times. They were in the middle of a scrimmage with a different school’s team. Not a qualifying match for state, but good practice nonetheless. The batter from the other team wasn’t fazed, her grip on the bat relaxed as she stared him down.

Good. That just made striking her out even more entertaining.

“Here comes the Yuwen Special,” he sang, shifting the ball to his throwing hand and moving into a windup. The motion was as familiar as breathing, and he released the ball with a perfectly timed flick, sending it hurtling towards the girl.

She swung, but the ball grazed just underneath the bat and into the waiting hand of Rachelle.

“And he does it again, folks,” he crowed, pumping a fist into the air. “Who’s next?”

The rest of the day passed by the same way as usual. He played amazingly (obviously), they won the scrimmage, and he stayed a little later after practice to laugh with his friends about a stupid video he’d found before walking to where his mom was waiting in the food truck.

“Hey Mom,” he greeted, tossing his bag into the back before hopping onto the seat beside her. “Guess who crushed it again at practice today.”

She didn’t respond, staring out the window as she pulled out of the parking lot. Yuwen felt the smile on his face drop a little, but he brought it back up and spoke again quickly before the moment could get awkward. “Me, obviously. Anyway, what’s for dinner?”

When the silence stretched on, he shifted a little uncomfortably, feeling something pang in his chest.

(We’re being annoying, little Yuwen cried. Shut up, he bit back.)

“Yuwen.”

His head snapped back up at the sound of his mom’s voice. “Yeah?” he responded, trying not to sound nervous. “What’s up?”

She sighed, still not looking at him, as she scrubbed her face with one hand. “Your father is going to be staying with us for a week.”

His body went cold.

She continued speaking, saying something about how he had lost his old job and needed a place to stay, just until he found another one.

“You can’t!” Yuwen interrupted when his voice finally came back to him, skin prickling from anger or nervousness or something else he couldn’t name. “You can’t let him stay over! He always does this. Last time, he wrecked the—“

“Yuwen Wang,” his mom snapped, finally turning to look at him. He stopped speaking, still fuming. “He is your father, and you will treat him as such.”

A few tense moments passed. Yuwen didn’t know what his face was doing, but his expression made his mom pause, face softening.

She sighed, turning back to the wheel and maneuvering the truck into their driveway. “It’s only for a week,” she said gently. “Everything will be fine. Don’t worry about it.”

He heard himself respond dully as the car pulled to a stop.

“Okay.”

 

//

 

Yuwen couldn’t focus at school the next day.

This had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that his father would be arriving today. No siree! Yuwen was doing great actually, thanks for asking. And anyone who said otherwise was out of their mind.

(You’re deflecting again, little Yuwen accused).

He thumped a hand to his chest suddenly, ignoring the confused glances of the other kids in his class.

His two periods passed by uneventfully, consisting of him chatting with some friends in the back of the classroom or staring at the wall until the bell rang. When lunch finally came around, he jumped to his feet, shoving the test he’d received into the backpack after glancing quickly at the red ‘B’ scrawled across the top of the paper.

Yuwen was the first one out of the classroom and beelined to the lunch tables.

He had the feeling his nervous stomach wouldn’t be able to handle the thick buttered noodles his mom had packed him, so he forgoed lunch and distracted himself by talking boisterously with his friends, reenacting a scene of a movie they had watched together. Taylor even laughed at one of his jokes which nearly made him fall out of his seat. It was cool. Everything was cool.

By the time school ended, Yuwen had almost forgotten about his dad entirely, chatting with Kai loudly as they walked down the street together. Since they lived in the same neighborhood, they had gotten into the habit of walking each other to their houses and usually stayed over for an hour to do homework. Though, he realized as they approached his house, that wasn’t happening today.

“Uh, by the way,” Yuwen said, cutting Kai off while she was talking about dying her hair. He felt a little guilty, but they were almost at the front door, and he could not let Kai stay over today while his dad was here. “I don’t think we can hang out today.”

Kai tilted her head, raising an eyebrow. “Why?”

Because my dad is here and I don’t want you to meet him, he didn’t say. Instead, he rubbed a hand to his neck sheepishly. “My mom and I were going to go, uh, shopping today so…”

Kai nodded, rolling her eyes good naturedly. “Alright, well don’t have too much fun without me. See you!”

“See you,” he replied, waving as she walked down the street to her house. Once she turned the corner, he sighed, lowering his hand and turning towards the front door.

There’s nothing to be nervous about, he reasoned with himself. It’s just your dad. What’s the worst thing he could do?

And with that totally comforting thought in mind, he opened the door and walked into his house.

Notes:

he might be cooked :)

 

also, this is my first fic, so any and all comments/suggestions are appreciated thx!

next chapter will probably come in a few days

(title from oh klahoma by jack stauber)

Chapter 2

As Yuwen stepped into the living room, the first thing he noticed was how quiet it was. Usually their house was full of old music that his mom liked to turn on or the sound of stir fry sizzling in the kitchen, but now it was silent.

He decided he didn’t like it.

“I’m home, Mom,” he called out, kicking off his shoes towards the approximate location of the shoe rack. His socked feet barely protected his skin from the cold hardwood floor, and he shivered, walking deeper into the house. “Mom?”

“In here.”

The sound of her voice trailed from the kitchen, half hidden behind the wall that separated it from the living room. He stepped closer warily, feeling his pulse pick up in his chest.

Inside, his father stared back at him from the dining table.

Yuwen froze, fingers clenching the middle of his shirt in an involuntary nervous response.

“Hey Yuwie,” he greeted, as if it was completely normal for him to be in their house again, calling Yuwen by his old nickname, as if the last times he’d been here hadn’t ended in disaster. “How’ve you been?”

Yuwen didn’t respond, narrowing his eyes. His dad barely looked any different from the last time he’d come over about a year ago. Haggard face and eye bags. Baggy clothes that hung around a wiry frame. Cold black eyes that glimmered in amusement as he waited silently for Yuwen to finish looking him up and down.

“Yuwen, answer your father,” his mom hissed.

He barely refrained from rolling his eyes, though he was sure the sentiment was conveyed through his body language. “Great. I’ve been doing awesome.” Without you, he was tempted to add, but he felt like that might be pushing it too far.

His father chuckled like his behavior was amusing somehow. “So are you still on that little team of yours? Cucumbers or whatever?”

“It’s the Pickles,” Yuwen corrected sharply, feeling the flush of embarrassment creep up his neck. “And obviously I’m still on it. I’m, like, their best player.”

Another chuckle. Yuwen didn’t know what was so funny, but he definitely knew he didn’t want to be here any longer. Casting one last look at his dad, he said, “I’m going upstairs. Got loads of homework to do” and promptly fled from the kitchen.

Behind him, he heard the low murmur of his mother, probably apologizing, and his father who snorted, saying something about needing to teach him more respect.

Yuwen scowled and stalked up the stairs into his room, slamming the door.

He hadn’t lied when he’d said he had a lot of homework today, but he didn’t want to do any of it right now. Instead, he collapsed onto his bed, still in his uniform, and stared up at the ceiling fan revolving lazily above him.

This was gonna be awesome.

//

The next morning, he was almost late for school because his mom couldn’t drive him. She had to pick up an extra shift at the food mart to make up for the extra person that was apparently living in their house now. His father had volunteered to drive him to school, and despite the panicked face and frantic hand waving Yuwen made from behind the man, his mom had accepted the offer with a tired smile.

Which is how he found himself in the backseat of his father’s beat-up car, pointedly not looking at the man as they drove to his middle school.

His father seemed perfectly fine with sitting in the tense silence, fingers drumming leisurely against the steering wheel. By the time they arrived at Yuwen’s school, the quiet had grown oppressively heavy, and he felt a drop of sweat trail down his temple. He was tempted to just throw open the car door and jump out while it was still moving, but he didn’t, gripping his backpack straps tighter instead.

When the car finally rolled to a stop in the drop-off line, Yuwen was practically vibrating with nervous energy.

“Have a good day at school, Yuwie,” his father called out from the front.

Yuwen didn’t respond, grabbing the door handle and pushing. There was a small click, and his pulse jumped in his throat when it didn’t open. He pushed harder, panicking. A distant part of him told him it was locked.

“Answer me when I talk to you.”

His father’s voice was cold, a complete flip from his usual half-amused, relaxed tone that always got on Yuwen’s nerves. This was worse, he decided as he turned slowly to face his dad. This was so much worse.

Dark eyes stared back at him through the rearview mirror. Yuwen avoided the harsh gaze and looked at his feet instead. “Okay, whatever,” he muttered, pretending like his heart wasn’t still jumping in his chest. “Can I go now?”

“Sir.”

Yuwen’s eyes snapped up almost involuntarily. “What?” he sputtered.

His dad rolled his eyes. “It’s obvious that your mother didn’t teach you any manners. I suppose I’ll have to take it upon myself to teach you.”

“I am not calling you sir,” Yuwen spat out, eyes flicking between the hard gaze in the rearview mirror and the car handle. “Let me out.”

Faster than he could process, his father lunged out of his seat and gripped his wrist, squeezing hard. A yelp escaped from Yuwen’s throat, and he tried tugging his arm out of the tight grip. It only made his dad squeeze harder, until Yuwen could almost feel the bones in his wrist grinding against each other. The man loomed over him, casting a shadow that grew bigger until he was the only thing Yuwen could see.

“Okay, sorry!” he grit out, still trying to get out of the grip. “I’m sorry!”

He was let go almost instantly, and he immediately pulled his arm to his chest, staring wide-eyed at his father. The man had moved back in the front seat, all traces of malice gone from his expression. A click told him that the door was unlocked.

Yuwen moved cautiously to the door and pushed it open, wincing as his right wrist twinged. His father didn’t look at him, staring out the window, and Yuwen scrambled out quickly while he had the chance, his heart somewhere up in his throat.

“Have a good day,” his father repeated casually, glancing at Yuwen for a moment.

Yuwen swallowed back the anger and responded.

“Yes, sir.”

Notes:

i know i said the next chap would come out in a few days but i got too excited ;P

Chapter 3

Yuwen’s arm throbbed as he stepped onto the field for practice. He skipped his usual dap with Coach, ignoring the confused look from the man, and collapsed on the bench instead, taking out his phone to pretend to scroll. It still hurt to move his wrist, so he held his phone with his left hand.

School had been extra stressful, not just because of his father but because of his friends. Rochelle had seen him getting out of his dad’s car and decided it was a great idea to ask him about it loudly in front of everyone. Ignoring his burning ears, he’d settled into a cocky stance, rolling his eyes as he said that his dad had driven him to school.

That led to practically the entire team crowding him for the whole day, asking about his dad and why they had never seen him at their matches. He said shortly that his dad worked a lot of different jobs and was busy, which wasn’t exactly a lie.

He only got a reprieve during Frank’s class because they had a test that day, though he couldn’t muster up the energy to do anything but doodle vaguely in the margins.

Now, there was a weird sense of numbness coating his mind, making it hard to think. The bench underneath his legs felt far away, like someone else was sitting and he was just along for the ride. He decided he didn’t like the feeling and tried focusing on a random video on his phone.

“Hey Yuwen!” Kai called, walking over to where he was. She was already geared up, smiling brightly with her hair tied up with a rainbow scrunchie. “Ready for practice?”

“Yeah, ‘course,” he responded halfheartedly, eyes glossing over the blur of colors on his phone.

A shadow fell over him as Kai peered over Yuwen’s shoulder to look at his phone. She made a questioning noise. “Boy, how are you scrolling that fast? I barely get what you’re watching.”

He shrugged, too tired to acknowledge the small curl of embarrassment in his chest.

When the silence became awkward after a minute, he finally looked up. Kai’s face was doing something weird as she stared back at him, and an uncomfortable feeling rose in his chest.

“What is it?” he asked, raising a brow. “I know my face is beautiful, but you don't have to be weird about it.”

She seemed to relax a bit as he spoke and sat down next to him, flapping a hand. “It’s nothing, never mind.”

The rest of practice went on normally, though his teammates sent him some questioning looks when he didn’t pitch with as much energy as usual. Which was…whatever. His wrist was throbbing fiercely at this point, but he pushed past the pain enough to be able to continue throwing the ball.

At the end, Yuwen didn’t stay for the group talk like he usually did, slinging his bag over his shoulder and walking out the gate. He thought someone might have called his name, but he didn’t turn around to check.

Before he got to the parking lot, a hand fell on his shoulder. Yuwen whirled around, eyes wide.

Behind him, Coach Dan backed up a step, looking sheepish.

“My bad, kid,” he said. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“It’s fine,” Yuwen muttered, trying to relax his stupidly fast heart. “Did you need something or..?”

Coach seemed to hesitate before speaking, visibly conflicted. “Well,” he started. “I just wanted to check on you. You seemed a little quiet today.”

“Oh,” Yuwen replied dumbly, and his hand slipped from where he’d rested it on his hip as a bit of embarrassment managed to break through the fog in his mind.

(‘What if he thinks we’re a bad player?’ little Yuwen cried.)

Coach nodded as if his non-answer made any sense. “I understand if you’re a bit tired. We all have rough days. Just tell me next time so I can help you during practice.”

For some reason, the way he phrased it, so pitying and kind, made Yuwen’s chest churn with irritation. “Sure thing, man,” he said shortly before spinning back around and heading out of the lot.

The walk back home was cold, and Yuwen tugged his arm guards down further, trying to cover as much skin as possible. His mother had texted him an hour ago, saying that she wouldn’t be able to pick him up today, something he felt was his father’s fault. Before he had barged into their lives, his mom had always picked him up from practice and they would usually cook dinner together. He had a feeling that that wouldn’t be happening today.

It was only the thought that there were six days left until his father went away that kept Yuwen going.

By the time he stepped up to his front door, the street lamps had turned on, casting sickly yellow light across the dark concrete. He shivered and reached for the door handle before pausing at the sight of his wrist.

He hadn’t looked at it much during practice, but it had apparently swollen up into a yellowish-purple bruise that curled around his arm. Looking at it, with the slightly finger-shaped blobs of darkened skin, made his stomach tighten so he snapped his gaze back up, tugging his arm guard down a bit more. Looks like he was stuck with long-sleeved shirts until it disappeared.
Fun.

(Little Yuwen frowned. ‘We should tell Mom.’)

For some reason, Yuwen felt a flash of irritation. His mom had already looked exhausted that morning and they were only one day into his father staying over. He didn’t want to add more to her plate by complaining. Besides, what would he even say? ‘I was disrespectful and he got mad’? ‘He told me to call him sir’?

He shifted uncomfortably when a small part of him whispered that his mom might even be glad that his father was teaching him to be more respectful. Logically, he knew that probably wasn’t true, but he felt a curl of doubt root into his chest. He knew he was annoying sometimes, yeah, but his amazing personality made up for it. And sometimes he forgot to address adults properly, which was a stupid thing anyway. But maybe…he could try dialing The Yuwen down. Just until his dad left.

Yeah, he could do that.

Notes:

another short chapter for you guys while i plan out the rest ;))

also, tysm for all your kind comments! im so glad you guys like this stupid au i thought of lol

btw im considering adding some chapters in the pov of a different character, or i might just continue with yuwen's pov. tell me what you guys think in the comments!

Chapter 4

Dinner was an awkward affair.

Yuwen’s leg bounced underneath the table as he shoveled another spoonful of soup into his mouth, pretending to ignore his father sitting right next to him. In the living room, his mother was vacuuming, having said she’d already eaten, though Yuwen doubted that given the lack of dishes in the sink. Also, he knew she only cleaned the house when she got stressed.

The whirring of the vacuum from the other room was practically deafening against the silence hanging over the table. Without his mom sitting across from him, Yuwen felt weirdly exposed and subtly ate faster, swallowing down the chicken soup his mom had heated up despite the way it burned on his tongue.

A sudden, harsh kick to his leg almost made him choke, and he sputtered, dropping his spoon into his bowl.

“Stop fidgeting,” his father said casually, eyes never leaving his own bowl.

Yuwen gritted his teeth, about to retort, but stopped when he remembered what happened in the car that morning. He tried not to think about the bruise on his wrist. But his dad probably wouldn’t do something like that again when his mom was only a few feet away, right?

(‘What if he does?’)

He ducked his head and grabbed his spoon again sullenly. It wasn’t like he was scared or anything, it was just…his arm still hurt and he had practice again tomorrow. Yuwen was thinking ahead for once.

Take that, Rochelle. He was capable of making good decisions sometimes.

After that, though, the tension increased tenfold, and Yuwen had to actively fight against the urge to fidget. His mom knew he had a lot of energy, it was literally why she had put him into softball to begin with, so being forced to stay still felt unnatural. And it was even harder when all he could think about was the dull whining of the vacuum in his ears, and the throbbing of his wrist when he moved it to lift the spoon, and how fast his father had moved in the car that morning, eyes wild and dark–

The legs of his chair scraped loudly against the floor as Yuwen stood up abruptly, holding his empty bowl in one hand. Almost involuntarily, his eyes flicked over to his dad, who had barely reacted and was still eating.

Yuwen speedwalked to the sink and dropped his bowl into it before fleeing upstairs.

//

After a quick shower and change of clothes, he sat down at his desk, chin resting in the palm of his hand, as he gazed at all the assignments laid out in front of him. Water dripped down from his wet hair onto his desk and he stared at the mini puddle that started forming on the wood instead of wiping it away. He picked up his pencil. Put it down. The clock hanging above his desk made faint ticking noises. His wrist still hurt.

It’s obvious that your mother didn’t teach you any manners.

He picked up a packet of what looked like algebra problems and got to work.

 

Yuwen ended up barely finishing half of his homework even after an hour and shoved all the papers to the side of his desk with a grimace. A glance at his phone told him it was nearing ten pm, which was usually the time to binge stupid videos until he inevitably fell asleep. The thought wasn’t as appealing as it normally would have been, soured by the thought of living with his father for another six days.

Dragging a hand down his face, Yuwen groaned and flopped back onto his bed. The cold mattress chilled his legs in a nice way, and he spread his limbs out while staring at the ceiling. Above him, the fan revolved lazily. He tracked the rotations for a few minutes before getting bored again.

Yuwen rolled over onto his stomach and frowned. He couldn’t even go downstairs and get a snack because his dad was probably still there. His skin crawled at the thought of interacting with the man again. No, it was better to stay upstairs, in his room.

And with that decided, he decided to try to sleep early. He needed his beauty sleep to look as good as he did, after all.

But sleep decided not to come that night.

Yuwen stayed in bed for what felt like hours, watching the shadows in his room lengthen until they enveloped everything in thick darkness. With a quiet groan, he rolled over and turned his phone on, wincing at the bright flash of light. Blinking rapidly, he squinted at the numbers on the screen. 1:37.

Awesome.

His irritation was cut short by the sound of muffled voices coming from downstairs. Because he was bored, and maybe a little curious, he slipped out of bed, cursing quietly when he tripped over something in the dark, and walked over to his door.

With one hand braced against the wood, Yuwen slowly turned the handle with the other, opening the door just enough for a sliver of light to shine through. Words trailed up from below, slightly clearer than before.

“--he’s just a kid, Brian.”

His mom sounded tired, like she had already repeated the same argument before.

A snort.

“And? My dad would have beat my ass if I was that disrespectful at his age.”

There was the sound of glass clinking before being set on the table. His mom sighed exasperatedly, her words taking on a sharper tone.

“I wish you wouldn’t drink those.”

“Too bad.”

There was a moment of silence. Yuwen didn’t move.

“Anyway, did the interview go well? I thought you found a place?”

The tension loosened as the conversation shifted to talking about his dad’s job, or lack of one, and where he would stay after.

Yuwen took in a breath, not having realized he’d been holding it, and slowly shut the door before walking back to his bed.

 

 

//

The next morning, Yuwen tried his best not to fall asleep as Mr. Brown droned on about civic duties in class.

He had ended up falling asleep at around three am and woke up late, which gave him barely enough time to rifle through his closet for a long-sleeved shirt and choke down a sandwich before leaving the house. The only good thing about that morning was that his mom ended up driving him to school. Apparently his father had to go to another interview. If Yuwen wasn’t so tired, he would have celebrated in the car. More interviews meant his dad would get a job faster which meant he would leave soon!

(Little Yuwen hummed doubtfully.)

But that was then, and now Yuwen felt his eyelids drooping with every minute that passed. He blinked sluggishly a couple times to snap out of it, but that led to him closing his eyes for longer each time.

It was foggy outside, and the chill permeated the classroom. Yuwen tucked his hands into his sleeves and absentmindedly wished he brought a jacket. Man, they should really get a better heater for the classroom and throw out the crappy one they had right now.

There was a tap on his shoulder, and Yuwen’s eyes snapped open, startled.

“He called on you,” Hannah whispered, still leaned over her chair towards him.

He flushed and looked up front to where Mr. Brown was staring at him with an unimpressed expression.

“Care to explain what I just said, Yuwen?” he asked, raising a brow.

Yuwen’s ears burned from embarrassment, but he played it off, leaning back into his chair with a smirk. “Nah, not really.”

Mr. Brown rolled his eyes. “I expect you to pay attention if you're going to be in my class,” he said, frowning. “You’ve been chatting and getting distracted this whole semester. We don’t tolerate disrespect here.”

The class oohed and snickered quietly. Yuwen’s face dropped, and he stopped tilting his chair back, sitting properly at his desk as Mr. Brown moved on with his lecture.

His chest hurt.

(‘He hates us,’ Little Yuwen mumbled dejectedly.)

At that moment, Yuwen hated himself a little too.

Notes:

just a note; i love frank as a character, and he definitely wasn't trying to be mean in this chapter. normally yuwen laughs stuff like that off, so frank didn't realize he would take it personally this time

also, this was a bit of a longer chapter that i wrote in pieces during school. hope you enjoyed!

<3

Chapter 5

By the time lunch rolled around, Yuwen had more or less gotten over the slight hiccup from Mr. Brown’s class.

He grimaced inwardly as he replayed the events in his head while walking to the tables. Yeesh, he had really overreacted. Talk about a pity party, right? So maybe Mr. Brown had been a little harsh that morning, but that was their thing . Yuwen did something stupid, his teacher would get mad, and the class got free entertainment. Normal stuff.

(Little Yuwen sniffled.)

With a completely unrelated thump to his chest, Yuwen continued walking, squinting his eyes against the afternoon rays that bounced off the concrete. Now that he was outside and not locked up in that glorified cement box of a classroom, he felt a bit more awake and settled into his normal self.

Yuwen stopped in the middle of the courtyard and looked around, stretching his arms idly while trying to decide where to sit. His decision was made for him when he saw Kai waving him over to her table a few feet away. He spotted Taylor, Rochelle, Tom (bleugh), and most of the other Pickles members sitting there as well. Grinning, he strolled over and plopped down on the open space beside Kai.

“What’s up?” he greeted, popping the p. It wasn’t often that the whole team sat together because they usually preferred to hang out with their own friend groups at school, and he was curious about why that had suddenly changed.

Rochelle, his absolute biggest hater, rolled her eyes. “Did you really have to invite him for this, Kai? He’s probably going to go yapping and ruin the surprise.”

(Something in Yuwen wilted a bit at that.)

“Would not,” he complained, stretching over to steal a fry from Tom’s tray while the other boy was distracted. Munching on the salted wedge, he said, muffled, “Anyway, what’s the surprise?”

Taylor spoke up from across the table, her eyes glinting excitedly. “It’s Laurie’s birthday today, and we’re going to throw her a party!”

“Keep your voice down!” Rochelle hissed, looking around fervently like Laurie might spawn in at the sound of her name.

Yuwen tilted his head, thinking. He hadn’t talked to Laurie that much even though they had been on the same team for a while, unless shoving memes in front of her face counted as a conversation. He knew she and Rochelle were certified Besties TM , and she was also the coach’s kid. From what he could tell, she was pretty nice, even if she did suck at softball sometimes.

(‘Don’t be mean,’ Little Yuwen reprimanded. Yuwen gave him a mental flick.)

Kai nudged his shoulder, drawing his attention to her. “So we’re going to surprise her with a party tonight after practice!” she explained. “We already got the presents and decorations set up. Oh, and we told Coach so he’s prepared too!”

His teammates all looked excited, and Yuwen wanted to be too, but.

It sounded like they had been planning it for a while. And he had only just heard of it, which…

(‘Hurt,’ Little Yuwen finished.)

Was a really big inconvenience, that’s all.

“I’ll see if I can fit it into my schedule,” he shrugged, before wincing as Kai elbowed him in the side. “Okay, I was joking! Jesus, your elbow is sharp , what the heck.”

She rolled her eyes at him, and he had been friends with her long enough to know she was being serious. “You’d better be there, Yuwen,” she warned.

“Yeah, yeah, sure.”

The conversation slowly shifted after that, and Yuwen lost track of it after a couple of minutes, pushing his scrambled eggs around with his fork absentmindedly. He was still a little tired from his impromptu eavesdropping session from yesterday. Nothing a power nap couldn’t fix. On the other hand, the blandness of today’s school lunch was starting to annoy him.

Yuwen’s gaze swept around the table before spotting a ketchup packet near Rochelle’s tray.

“Rochelle,” he called. “Hey. Rochelle .”

The girl didn’t notice, too busy trying to teach the team how to tie their hair into her iconic bubble braid look.

He rolled his eyes and reached across the table to grab it himself, smiling triumphantly when he managed to snatch it. His smile faded when he realized it wasn’t tearing easily and gripped it with his teeth.

“Uh, Yuwen?”

He groaned, twisting around to glance at Tom with the sauce packet still in his mouth. “What?”

Something on the taller boy’s face gave Yuwen a pause, and a sense of foreboding crept up his spine even before Tom pointed at Yuwen’s arm with an uncharacteristically serious expression. “Is your wrist okay?”

Yuwen froze.

The silence stretched on a beat too long before he regained control of his limbs again to pull his arms behind his back, heart racing.

“Wait, what?” he heard someone ask.

He scooted backwards as his friends stopped talking, leaning curiously towards him as they tried to see. Yuwen cleared his throat, pasting on his widest, most obnoxious smile as he pulled his sleeves down subtly.

“Oh, that?” he laughed, avoiding their stares. “I tripped on the stairs and landed on it wrong. No biggie. I can still carry the team if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Tom narrowed his eyes at Yuwen. “But it looked like–” 

The lunch bell rang, drowning out Tom’s next words. For once, Yuwen was glad to hear the sound and jumped up, keeping his arm out of view as he walked backwards towards the direction of the school.

“‘Kay, good talk, I’ll be there at the party, bye!”

Someone called his name, but he ignored it, merging with the growing crowd of students and practically running to his next class, his heart pounding the whole way there.

 

 

//

He could feel Taylor’s eyes on him during math.

The slideshow up front changed, and Yuwen ducked his head, pretending to write something into his notebook. He heard a quiet sigh from beside him and tried not to tense up.

(‘We’re panicking,’ Little Yuwen pointed out.)

Yuwen was perfectly fine, thank you. He pointedly ignored his trembling fingers and tucked them underneath his knees, biting his lip to stay focused. The way his breath was jumping in his throat wasn’t helping either.

So maybe Tom saw the bruise, but it wasn’t like it was the end of the world.

The sound of rustling paper filled the room as the teacher moved on to the next chapter.

He probably hadn’t been serious. The bruise wasn’t even that noticeable, and the finger shaped marks could easily be explained away.

Fluorescent lights buzzed above him and he saw rather than felt himself flip the page.

What would Tom even do? Spread rumours around the entire school?

Bad thought. Yuwen squeezed his eyes shut, distantly glad for the fact that he was sitting at the back of the classroom where no one could see him freaking out.

It wasn’t even a big deal anyway. Everyone got bruises sometimes. He just got one because he was stupid and forgot how big of a jerk his dad could be sometimes.

(‘So why are you trying to hide it?’)

A tap on his shoulder distracted him from dealing with that mess, and he glanced to his side, eyes widening imperceptibly when he saw Taylor staring directly back at him. Are you okay , she mouthed, tilting her head.

He gave her a tight smile and nodded, about to turn back to his book, when she tapped him again, this time with a small slip of paper held between her index and middle finger. Yuwen checked to see if the teacher was distracted before accepting the note.

Inside, small, neat handwriting filled the middle of the paper.

You’re breathing rlly hard. R you sure you’re ok??

Yuwen frowned, suddenly feeling self-conscious. He hadn’t even noticed his breathing picking up. With a small sigh, he grabbed his pencil and scrawled out a quick response before tossing the note back.

I’M FINE. JUST READY TO GO HOME LOL ;P

Taylor raised an eyebrow at him doubtfully, and he shot a cheeky grin back even though he wanted nothing more than to crawl under his desk and hide. (Preferably until tomorrow so he didn’t need to face his dad.)

For the rest of the class, she tried to catch his attention again but Yuwen kept his gaze locked on his notebook. He wasn’t avoiding her or anything, he was being studious . Besides, his missing homework had brought his grade down, and he actually needed to pay attention if he wanted to do well on the test. That’s what he told himself when Taylor finally gave up and turned back to her own desk, ignoring the pang of disappointment in his chest.

It was better this way. His mom was too tired to handle him being annoying as usual, and all his friends would think he was stupid for letting something as simple as fighting with his dad get to him. The bruise would disappear in a few days. His dad would leave along with it. All Yuwen had to do was hold out until then, just like he did last time.

(‘Last time was different,’ Little Yuwen pointed out quietly.)

Whatever. Yuwen would deal with it.

Notes:

oof, poor bby :(
(im kidding, i have so much more angst planned for this guy)

anyway, hope you enjoyed the chap <33

Chapter 6

Notes:

pls mind the tags for this chapter <33

The moment the bell rang, Yuwen stood up with his backpack slung over one shoulder and was the first person to leave the classroom, having already packed his stuff ten minutes before. Taylor tried saying something to him as he left, but he pretended not to hear.

He barely made it two steps down the hall before everyone rushed out of their classrooms, instantly flooding the hallway with noise. Grimacing, he clenched the straps of his backpack tighter as the crowd enveloped him in a wave of jostling elbows and laughter. The hallway at the end of school was usually congested, but today it seemed more crowded than usual.

Yuwen shoved his way through, tensing every time he was jostled or pushed, and let out a dramatic breath when he finally made it outside.

He knew his friends might try to corner him, so he didn’t take his usual route. Instead, he circled around the school and left through one of the back gates. Kai would probably be looking for him on her walk home which meant he would also have to take the longer way to his house just to avoid her.

(Little Yuwen shifted. ‘Or you could just talk with them?’ he suggested.)

Yuwen felt the urge to roll his eyes for some reason and kept walking down the sidewalk irritably.

Despite the good weather during lunch, now the clouds covered the sky in an expanse of grey, casting a dull light over everything. He tried not to take that as a sign as he waited at the crosswalk, arms crossed over his chest.

His foot tapped impatiently against the ground as another wave of cars passed by, and he ignored the fact that he would have been home by now if he’d taken his usual route. He would just have to accommodate by changing quickly into his uniform and skipping his usual snack if he didn’t want to be late for practice.

Behind him, footsteps scraped against the concrete.

He barely repressed a flinch when the person slammed on the crossing button about half a dozen times. After they came to the apparent realization that pushing the button a lot wouldn’t make the sign switch any faster, they settled behind him with a quiet curse.

Yuwen’s skin prickled.

When the walking sign finally turned on, he immediately rushed forward and didn’t stop walking until he was deep into an unfamiliar neighborhood.

He was starting to really regret taking a different way home.

All the houses in this neighborhood looked foreign compared to what he was used to, and he hurried past them, glancing at his phone every now and then for new messages. He was disappointed to find that the wifi sucked here and shoved the device into his backpack with a groan.

After forty more minutes of dead-ends, backtracking, and a decent amount of panicking, Yuwen found himself standing in front of his house, bent over at the waist as he tried to catch his breath. Above, the sky had already begun darkening into splotches of purple and pink. Yuwen hesitated at the front door, hating the way his pulse picked up at the thought of entering, before slowly slotting the house key in.

But before he could even twist the handle, the door swung open violently, nearly hitting him in the face. Yuwen stumbled backwards, eyes wide, and nearly tripped.

Standing in front of him at the doorway, his father looked furious .

“Get inside,” he snapped, and jerked Yuwen in by the arm when he didn’t move.

He stumbled through the doorway and winced as his upper arm twinged in protest against the tight grip on it. A protest died on his lips when his father stepped towards him. He squeezed his eyes shut, bracing himself, but relaxed infinitesimally when all his dad did was close the door. 

Actually, no. That might have been worse. With the door locked and the blinds shut, he felt completely isolated from the outside. Which, he thought as he stared up at his still seething father, was probably not a great thing.

His father stared at Yuwen coldly, and the silence stretched on long enough to become uncomfortable. Finally, he spoke.

“Do you know,” he started, dangerously quiet, “how long your mother was waiting for you?”

Yuwen automatically opened his mouth to respond but closed it after a moment of hesitation. He didn’t know what the right answer would be in this situation.

His dad narrowed his eyes. “Answer when I ask you a question.”

“I-I dunno,” Yuwen mumbled before clearing his throat. “I mean, I wasn’t that late. I was just taking a different–”

A sharp blow rang through the room.

Yuwen’s head snapped to the side, and he fell onto the floor, ears ringing. He stayed there, stunned for a moment, before one hand came up to instinctively cover his throbbing cheekbone.

Above him, his father looked disgusted, his fist lowering to his side.

“Not that late, huh?” he mocked, leaning over Yuwen. “It took me half an hour to convince her to go to work instead of searching for you. Not that it would have been worth it.”

Yuwen didn’t respond, head still angled towards the ground. His breaths came out in shallow pants and caught somewhere in his throat. His eyes burned.

“I thought you played baseball or shit, but you can’t even take a punch? Are you seriously going to cry? Yuwen. Look at me .”

His dad accentuated his order with a harsh kick, and Yuwen bit his lip to stifle a yelp as the shoe slammed into his side. The air was knocked from his lungs in an instant, and he drew in a sharp breath, curling into himself. He didn’t want to be here. He wanted to lock himself in his room where it was safe. He wanted his mom .

When his father stepped forward and grabbed the collar of Yuwen’s shirt, Yuwen shrank back, wrapping his arms around his chest as if he could squeeze himself out of existence. This close, he could smell the thick musk of alcohol on his dad.

“I don’t even know what she sees in you,” his father said conversationally. His hot breath stung against Yuwen’s skin. “You always end up disappointing everyone, Yuwie.”

Yuwen’s lip trembled, silent tears streaming down his face as he stared up at the face in front of him that was so similar to his own. But he didn’t think he could ever look as cruel as his dad did at that moment.

The stench of alcohol and sweat enveloped him and he nearly gagged.

His dad stared at him through hooded eyes for another long moment, the tension stretching to its breaking point, before he just…let Yuwen go.

He stayed frozen on the ground, unable to bring himself to move. His father looked almost amused for a second before he turned away, voice turning disinterested.

“You can go to your room. Don’t be late next time.”

Then he walked away languidly, presumably into the living room.

Yuwen wasn’t sure how long he sat there in front of the door. Long enough for the tears to dry into a sticky trail on his face and for the pain on his cheekbone to worsen into a hot, throbbing mess that burrowed deep into his bone. It hurt to breathe deeply, his ribs screaming in protest, so he settled for taking in shallow pants through his mouth.

His backpack was still tossed to the side, the dark screen of his phone peeking out from the unzipped pouch. He stared at it blankly for a minute before reaching an arm out to check the time. Oh. So he was late for practice. There was a vague memory of a party after that too.

He saw himself stand up and walked unsteadily to the stairs, avoiding the light coming from the living room. Everything felt fuzzy, and the acute panic from before was almost nonexistent now, buried underneath a layer of numbness, but Yuwen was too tired to acknowledge that. He was too tired to do anything but keep his legs moving.

As he stepped into his room, he looked at his uniform hanging over his bedpost and paused. Briefly, he considered skipping.

You always end up disappointing everyone, Yuwie.

Yuwen grabbed the clothes and stepped into his bathroom to change. He had a party to get to after all.

Notes:

the team rn: wow yuwen is late for the party, what a jerk
yuwen, getting beat up: ツ

Chapter 7

Yuwen’s plan to leave failed spectacularly at step two.

Step one, changing into his uniform, went fine overall. It might have taken him…some time to focus back into reality, but the pain itching underneath his skin helped speed the process along. His cheek felt like it was on fire at that point, throbbing in time with his pulse. Stretching his side too much caused his ribs to twinge uncomfortably which made for an awkward five minutes of wriggling around as he tried to put on his shirt.

Yuwen avoided looking at himself in the mirror the whole time, otherwise he would have probably cried again.

Once he had put his uniform and arm sleeves on, he stood in the center of his room and thought. (Yes, insert joke about smelling smoke and the like.) He didn’t want to sneak downstairs and go out the garage because his dad was probably still in the living room and the garage door made a lot of noise while opening. Walking out the front door was an automatic no. So that left him with only one option.

He turned towards the window at the back of his room with a grimace.

It was a rickety, old thing, with a faded white frame that squeaked whenever the wind blew too hard. He had never cared about its deteriorating condition before, but now he wished he had asked his mom to replace it. In his defense, he’d never needed to worry about sneaking out because his mom was nice about letting him roam around as long as he came back by his curfew, but he had a feeling his dad didn’t share the same policy.

Quietly, he stepped closer to the window and peered down through the glass, wincing at the drop waiting below him. But his room was on the second floor, so it wasn’t like he was high enough to seriously hurt himself if he landed wrong.

Scratch that, he definitely was with his luck.

Yuwen pressed his face to the glass and looked around, trying to find something that could at least break his fall. He spotted branches of a tree that stretched tantalizingly close to the window. They were thick enough that he was fairly certain they would hold his weight.

(‘Are we actually going to do this?’ Little Yuwen finally spoke up, sounding surprised.)

Yes, he was, because he had promised Kai that he would be at the party and he didn’t like breaking his promises. (Also, Rochelle would probably find a way to murder him and hide his body if he hurt Laurie’s feelings.)

You always end up disappointing everyone, Yuwie.

Yuwen coughed, muffling the sound with an arm, and readied himself.

He reached out and gripped the frame. Slowly, he pushed it up, twitching every time it creaked, and stopped when he had opened it enough for him to fit through. He snuck a glance behind him to make sure his dad wasn’t about to burst into the room before sticking a leg out then another until he was sitting on the sill. After another quick check, he ducked his head and leaned his torso out through the window too. Now, the only thing keeping him from falling down two stories was his white knuckled grip on the frame behind him.

The longest branch was still five feet away from him.

Yuwen sucked in cold air, pushing down the panic rising in his chest. Five feet was practically nothing. He could so do this.

 

It turns out later that he could not.

Yuwen groaned up at the sky. His entire body felt like one, giant bruise.

“I hate you,” he informed the tree once he caught his breath. “You suck.”

The tree didn’t respond. The branch Yuwen had tried to grab onto before losing his grip waved mockingly in the evening breeze.

So that’s how step two went.

But Yuwen had gotten out of the house without alerting his dad, which meant his plan had technically worked out.

He painstakingly stood up and hobbled out of the lawn, hoping none of his neighbors had witnessed his slip up. His fall had at least been slowed by the branches below him, but those had left a dozen small scratches on his hands and face that stung with every movement. And as if his day couldn’t get any worse, Yuwen realized that he had left his phone on his bed. In his room. That he had just jumped out of.

Yuwen really wanted to hit something, but the darkening sky told him he was starting to pass being fashionably late and was steadily approaching ‘actually late’ territory.

So he swallowed down the annoyance and ran .

//

Yuwen arrived at the field fifteen minutes later.

Or had it been twenty? Ten? It was hard to tell how much time had passed when his chest was burning and every breath he took scraped against his throat as he stumbled to the gate. All he knew was that he was definitely late by now.

The field lights were like a beacon in the dark and he approached them on trembling knees, trying to catch his breath. Cold evening air stung against his cheeks and chilled his lungs, brushing his skin in faint white wisps as he exhaled. The distant sound of voices and laughter echoed through the empty field. Yuwen stopped, still gulping down deep breaths, and looked around, trying to spot the familiar white and green of his team’s uniforms.

(‘There!’)

Where the team usually hung out after practice, underneath the meager shade of the trees close to the parking lot, Yuwen spotted his friends.

They were all laughing hysterically at something, probably a dumb joke, while sitting in a circle underneath the largest tree. A half-finished cake lay on the table next to them, and frosting smears coated the wood. Coach was nowhere to be seen, but the man was probably in the bathroom or something because he would never miss Laurie’s birthday.

Everyone looked happy, and Yuwen hesitated.

Okay, he wasn’t that egotistical enough to believe that the entire party would be ruined without him there, but he had expected something…else. Something not so bright, and colorful, and content like they were just fine without him. (Like they didn’t need him.)

His slightly depressing thoughts were cut off abruptly when Kai looked up, still giggling, as she opened her mouth like she was about to say something. Yuwen pinpointed the exact moment she spotted him because her cheerful expression grew stormy, which was expected. But then her face scrunched up in what he might call concern, brows furrowing, which was less expected.

“Yuwen?” she called, and something about her tone was off.

The rest of the team whirled around to face the same way as her, all of their faces morphing into that same weird expression, but he ignored it, strolling closer to them and hoping he looked more confident than he felt.

“That’s me,” he responded, grinning. “How’s it going?”

“What are you doing here?” Taylor completely ignored his question, her gaze settled uncertainly just below his eyes.

Wow, ok. Ouch.

Yuwen ignored the disappointed pang in his chest and slapped on an easy smirk. “Well I couldn’t deprive you of my presence, and also, you guys invited me,” he said, sitting down between Kai and Laurie with a small oomph.

Taylor let out a frustrated sigh, still not looking directly at his eyes. “That’s not what I–”

“What she means,” Rochelle interrupted as she squinted at Yuwen, “is why the heck you're here with your face looking like that.”

Yuwen raised a judgemental eyebrow.

Some of his annoyance must have been conveyed through his expression because she sat back, rolling her eyes. “Not like that. Have you even looked in a mirror?”

“No?” Yuwen said, drawing out the word. “Should I?”

Kai wordlessly handed him her phone. Her silence was a bit concerning, and he fumbled with the device for a moment before turning the camera app on.

(‘Oh shoot,’ Little Yuwen whispered.)

Yuwen was inclined to agree for once.

The entire right side of his face was red, with a splotchy, purple bruise stretching across his cheekbone. Now that he was looking at it, the muted throbbing underneath his skin came back with a vengeance and he fought back a wince. He hadn’t thought his dad had hit him that hard, but his swollen face said otherwise.

“Did something happen?” someone asked.

He tore his gaze away from the screen, and his mouth responded before he could think it through. “Parkour?”

Kai seemed to snap out of her stupor and leaned into his line of sight, a disbelieving expression on her face. “Seriously?” she said, and it didn’t sound much like a question. “You do parkour now?”

“What, so I can’t have hobbies?” Yuwen shot back, ignoring his pounding heart and the ever present mantra of please believe me running through his head. At his sides, his fingers trembled and he subtly nudged them behind his back.

Kai’s eyes narrowed, but before she could speak, Rochelle interrupted, pointing an accusatory finger at him.

“So you’re saying you missed practice completely and came an hour late for Laurie’s party because you were what? Jumping around and climbing trees?” She curled a protective arm around said birthday girl as she spoke, though Laurie quietly protested, saying it wasn’t a big deal.

Technically, Rochelle wasn’t wrong, but Yuwen wasn’t about to admit that.

“Big deal,” he groaned, throwing his head back dramatically. “I was just a little late. Laurie doesn’t care, right Laurie?”

The girl froze when the attention swung to her, and she shook her head hesitantly. “I mean, it’s okay, but are you sure you’re –”

“Yuwen!”

He spun around at the sound of his voice and immediately winced.

Coach was standing right behind him, holding a piñata. When he caught sight of Yuwen’s face, he dropped the colorful, unicorn-shaped container onto the ground with a muffled thud, but his gaze stayed locked onto Yuwen.

When he spoke again, his voice was more serious than Yuwen ever recalled hearing.

“What happened.”

Notes:

ohhh he's in trouble :00

 

anyway, sorry this chap was so late 😭 school started again + i had some performances, but i finally finished this!! your comments fuel my soul, and as always, ty for reading <333

Chapter 8

“Coach, man, I’m seriously fine. I just fell, it’s no biggie.”

Yuwen batted the other man’s hand away as he backed away deeper into the dugout. Coach looked apprehensive, holding bandaids and an alcohol wipe in his hands. A few dozen feet away, the team was still sitting underneath the tree from where they’d left them, though Yuwen swore he could feel guilty eyes flicking away from him every time he glanced back at them.

His skin grew hot as Coach Dan stepped forward again, a determined frown on his face.

“Come on, kid, it’ll make me feel better at least,” he said, gesturing slightly desperately to the bench. “Just sit down and I’ll be quick about it. Won’t even hurt.”

Yuwen opened his mouth again to protest, but he could tell Coach wasn’t going to give up anytime soon. With a long sigh, he collapsed dramatically on the bench, leaning back against the wired fence behind him. The cold metal seeped through his clothes instantly, and he shifted with a grimace.

“Thank you,” Coach said earnestly before reaching out a hand.

And maybe it was the way he moved a second too quickly, or just because of Yuwen’s day in general, but Yuwen flinched back, the back of his cap hitting the fence with a rattle.

Tense silence filled the dugout.

Coach paused, hand still outstretched with an alcohol wipe dangling limply from his fingers. Because that’s what he had been trying to do. Wipe Yuwen’s scraped cheek like a normal person instead of whatever Yuwen’s brain thought he was going to do. And now Coach was staring at him with ten times the intensity from before, lips pursed.

Yuwen cleared his throat, trying to settle back into his relaxed position as his pulse jumped in his chest. “So, uh,” he started, wincing inwardly when his voice came out less steadily than he wanted. “Sorry about missing practice by the way. Had to do an errand for my mom, you know.”

“That’s okay,” Coach said slowly. “Did everything go well?”

Yuwen kicked his legs back and forth awkwardly. “Yup,” he replied, and then the silence settled over them again.

Coach nodded and raised his hand, this time a lot more slowly than before, taking care to keep his arm in sight as he raised the wipe to Yuwen’s face. It was embarrassing, but a part of Yuwen appreciated the effort.

“It might sting,” Coach warned, before pressing it over the largest cut on Yuwen’s cheekbone. It did sting, a lot , but Yuwen kept still, biting the inside of his cheek as the man cleaned the cuts and put bandaids over the majority of them.

Once he was done, Coach settled back, leaning against the fence with a serious expression. Yikes. Yuwen had been hoping the man would let him go right after but that had apparently been too much to hope for. He glanced nervously at the opening of the dugout, but it was too far away to make a break for it.

“Yuwen,” Coach started in a low voice, and Yuwen was not about to have a Talk with his softball coach in the middle of the night with his team a few feet away, nope.

“Yeah, thanks for the help, Coach. Didn’t really need it, but it feels better now t-b-h. So I’m just gonna–”

He stood up without another word and speed walked towards the opening. There was an exasperated noise from behind him and then a hand grabbed his wrist tightly, but the grip immediately loosened when Yuwen tugged his arm to his chest with a wince. He turned around to face Coach again, trying to mask the throbbing pain from his wrist with an unimpressed stare.

“Do you need something?” Yuwen asked, deadpan, and tilted his head towards the team’s direction meaningfully. “There’s a party that I’m trying to get to right now.”

Coach sucked in a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose. The man looked stressed, and Yuwen felt vaguely guilty, but he really could not deal with this today. Potentially family-separating, probing questions could wait until tomorrow, when Yuwen had more sleep and actually felt like a human instead of a throbbing mass of bruises and cuts.

“I–” Coach started, but he shook his head like he was cutting himself off. “Never mind. Have fun, Yuwen. Just…next time, text me if you don’t feel well enough to come to practice. I’m always here for you.”

The last sentence was emphasized more than the others for some reason, but Yuwen ignored it (he’d been doing a lot of that lately) and nodded distractedly, already halfway out the dugout. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll text you, ‘kay bye!”

He practically scrambled out and ran across the field to his team, slowing to a jog as he approached them. They waved him over eagerly, and Yuwen joined the party with a grin that only felt half fake. He videoed Laurie and Rochelle facing off in a chugging contest and laughed hysterically when Tom tripped over his own feet while they played Marco Polo. Taylor and him were put right next to each other for the team’s game of Truth or Dare. The giggles from his sides told him it hadn’t been an accident. Coach eventually came out of the dugout with his normal, easygoing expression back again, and he hung up the piñata on the branch of the tree. (Note: Never let Laurie near a piñata again.)

He pretended not to notice the eyes on his bandaged cheek for the rest of the night.

It was fine. Everything was fine.

//

By the time Yuwen got home, the sky was completely dark overhead. Coach had offered to drive him home, but he had refused for obvious reasons. The man had already done enough for him today, tolerating him skipping practice and bandaging him up. Also, Yuwen didn’t want to chance being forced into a conversation while in the car.

Yuwen wiped his shirt with one hand, peeling off dried strands of Silly String off of his uniform as he walked. He discarded them behind him like a little trail of rainbows. The team had gone a little overboard near the end, and there would probably be a lot of cleanup to do during tomorrow’s practice. Still, everything had gone better than he could’ve hoped for. (Other than that little snafu with Coach, but he would deal with that later.)

 

The house lights were off when he finally stepped up to the front door, which was a good sign. His dad usually slept early, locking himself into the guest room by nine. All Yuwen had to do was be extremely quiet and he could sneak back into his room, no problem.

Still his hand hesitated over the front door handle. He tried desperately not to remember the way the door had swung open without warning that afternoon.

Annoyance then flared up in his chest because it was so stupid to be afraid of his own dad like this. Gritting his teeth, Yuwen twisted the handle and opened the door, breathing out a quiet sigh of relief when the hinges didn’t squeak. While still holding the door open with one hand, he reached down with the other and slipped his shoes off, leaving them on the front door mat, before he stepped inside. His suspicions were proven correct as he surveyed the dark, and more importantly, empty living room.

He took care to step near the walls where the floorboards were least likely to creak and padded up the stairs silently. The door at the end of the second story hall was shut, which meant his dad had gone to sleep. His mom wasn’t in her room when he checked, so she was probably off working another night shift. The thought of being alone in the house with his dad made him shiver and his last steps to his room were faster than normal.

Once he entered, he shut the door behind him, waiting until he heard the soft click, before he blew out a long breath, practically wilting on the spot. He collapsed onto his bed and starfished out on his covers.

(‘That was a lot,’ Little Yuwen finally spoke up.)

He rubbed his chest, a bit surprised, but found himself nodding aimlessly at the ceiling. That had been a long day. Long night? Whatever.

Beside him, the night breeze drifted through the window that was still open from his impromptu escape. He tolerated the uncomfortable chill for a few moments before getting up with a grunt and closing it quietly. As he stepped back to his bed, a glint of something caught his eye.

On the ground, his discarded phone winked up at him.

He rolled his eyes before picking it up, laying back down on his bed as he tapped the screen. There were a few notifs from his channel (speaking of which, he really needed to make a new edit for his loyal followers) and friends, but the seven unread messages from Kai stood out from the rest. With a vague sense of curiosity, he opened their chat.

3:32 pm

fruitiestloop: hey yuwen, can we talk?

                       you didnt yap as much as usual during lunch lol

He rolled his eyes at that but continued scrolling.

4:14 pm

fruitiestloop: did you get home? i didn’t see you on the normal route

6:01 pm

fruitiestloop: dude coach is asking where you are

                       if you’re going to miss practice, you better make it for laurie’s party at least

Then there was a long break, probably because she had to go play. The last message was dated from half an hour ago.

10:15 pm

fruitiestloop: yuwen

With a sigh, he pulled himself up into a sitting position, fingers positioned over the screen. The least he could do was respond after ghosting her all day.

10:47 pm

#1pitcher: yea?

He left the app, about to binge some videos while he waited for her response, but it turned out he didn’t need to wait.

10:47 pm

fruitiestloop: can you call rn

10:48 pm

#1pitcher: sure but why tho

A call from Kai lit up the screen.

He let it ring for a few moments, just to be annoying, before picking up, pasting on an obnoxious smile even though it wasn’t a video call. “Yello,” he greeted before she could say anything. “You’re speaking to Yuwen, aka the greatest pitcher in the state.”

“ Yuwen .”

“Yeah, that’s me.”

Kai sighed exasperatedly, and Yuwen could practically imagine her rolling her eyes at her phone. “ We need to talk .”

“That’s what we’re doing.”

“ Dude, be serious for a second. ”

He paused, slightly hurt, because usually Kai put up with his fronting, albeit with a lot of sarcastic jabs and eye rolling. But for once, she actually sounded annoyed.

On the other side of the call, he could tell Kai realized that as well because her next words came out more gently.

“ Sorry, I didn’t mean to snap. It’s just, ” and here, she paused for a long moment. “ How come you were late to practice today? ”

Now it was Yuwen’s turn to roll his eyes, if only to mask the sudden jump in his throat. “That’s why you wanted to call? I told you guys, I had to do an errand for my mom.”

“ Why didn’t you text? ”

“‘Cuz I was busy,” he droned, staring at his feet intently.

“ So you went on an errand for three hours and that’s why you came late to the party. ”

“Uh, yes? That’s what I’ve been saying.”

“ When did you have the time to get that bruise on your face then? ”

Yuwen froze, suddenly feeling exposed despite being alone in his room.

“ You didn’t have it when we saw you at school today, so what happened? ” she asked, though her words came out more like an accusation than a question. “ Did you decide to parkour on the streets with your mom? ”

He cleared his throat, trying to gain control of his mouth again. “I, uh, I tripped.”

The unimpressed silence from Kai was loud.

“I mean, I was carrying some of my mom’s stuff from the food truck but they were too heavy so I fell?” he tried. “Didn’t want to tell you guys because it was kind of a stupid reason for getting a bruise.”

“ Uhuh .”

Yuwen rolled languidly onto his side, feeling the cold mattress press onto his cheek as he spoke again. “Anyway, why do you care so much?”

“ Because you’re my best friend, and I don’t like it when my friends get hurt, ” she responded bluntly.

His face spasmed as he tried to decide on how to react to that statement. He settled on being annoying because that was easier.

“Aw, I’m your best friend?” he cooed into the speaker. “I’m so touched.”

Kai groaned, but she chuckled a bit after so Yuwen took that as a win. “ Yeah, yeah, okay. Don’t let it get to your head though. Your ego’s big enough as it is. ”

Yuwen opened his mouth to retort, grinning, when footsteps suddenly sounded outside his door.

He realized a second too late that he should have talked more quietly as his bedroom door slammed open.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

His father looked more undone than usual, with his hair sticking up straight on one side like he’d been sleeping on it and a crazed look in his eye. He zeroed in on the phone in Yuwen’s hand immediately and his expression twisted.

“ Uh, is someone there? ”

Yuwen didn’t take his eyes off his dad as he scooted backwards, finger moving to end the call. “Sorry, I gotta go. Talk to you later.”

And then he cut off his only connection to the outside world.

Notes:

wow he really cant catch a break huh

 

also, sorry this chap was so late ㅠㅠ my mental state's been kinda shit lately, but i managed to finish this chap!! hope you enjoyed & ty for the lovely comments you left on the last chap, they were my motivation lmao <333

 

EDIT (6/26): Hey guys :) Just wanted to say this fic is on hiatus. The A03 curse is apparently real and i'm also in some new fandoms now, so i'm not sure if i'll ever finish this. Thanks for reading and for those who commented, you guys are literally so sweet <333 Hope you enjoyed!

EDIT (8/2): Hi again! A brand new chap is up & it was written by the lovely SelfProclaimedGenius whose work is amazing but currently doesnt have an a03 acc. Go check it out and keep an eye out for more <3

Chapter 9

He realized a second too late that he should have talked more quietly as his bedroom door slammed open.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

His father looked more undone than usual, with his hair sticking up straight on one side like he'd been sleeping on it and a crazed look in his eye. He zeroed in on the phone in Yuwen's hand immediatedly and his expression twisted.

"Uh, is someone there?"

Yuwen didn't take his eyes off his dad as he scooted backwards, finger moving to end the call. "Sorry, I gotta go. Talk to you later."

And then he cut off his only connection to the outside world. 

His father stormed up to him, ripping Yuwen’s phone from his hands. Yuwen scrambled backwards, the blanket he was just laying on catching his foot and slowing him down. He shook it off, pressing himself against the cold wall. His back ached.

His father threw the phone on the ground. He dug his heel into the device, his eyes never leaving Yuwen’s face. The impact of his father’s foot left spiraling fractures on his crushed device, sending pieces of technology flying. Yuwen flinched with every stomp.

His father, once satisfied, turned his attention to Yuwen. He grabbed him by the ankle, hauling him out of bed and throwing him into the nearby dresser. Yuwen collided with a thud, groaning.

He curled into a ball on the cold floor. His father kicked him, sending sharp pangs of pain reverberating throughout his body.

“I thought you would have learned,” his father hissed, “that you are not to be late. You are not to go anywhere without my explicit permission.”

He kicked the back of his neck, eliciting a grunt from Yuwen.

“You are not allowed to leave the house without my knowledge.” He stomped on Yuwen, putting all his body weight into him. Yuwen emitted a soft sound, like he was being choked. Fire spread throughout his chest, making it hard to breathe. He felt something crack inside him.

“Say it.”

Yuwen curled into himself, trying to protect his head. “I,” he gasped, “Will not--” he was interjected by a sharp, prodding toe. He inhaled, quick and painful, and continued: “Leave the house without your permission.”

The torrent of kicks subsided. His father grunted and sent a foot into Yuwen, pushing him against the wall. Yuwen concaved into himself, a feeble attempt at protection. He heard a rustling sound, like his father was brushing his hands off on his pants, (although he never used his hands, he wouldn’t want to taint them on his disappointment of a son), and the sounds of someone walking away.

Yuwen stayed curled into a ball, even after receding footsteps faded into silence. He tried to will away the pain that permeated throughout every fibre of his being, each of his breaths sending twisting knives of pain rattling within his ribcage. He tried to control the hyperventilating that overtook him, to no avail.

This pain was like no other – it reverberated through him, absorbing his senses. His heartbeat, faster than ever before, threw itself against his almost-definitely broken ribs. Frantic drumming pressed into his cranium, shoving his mind into a corner. It poured out of his head and spilled onto the floor, drowning him in the beating of his own heart.

Yuwen wished he could die. Then the pain ---- this all-encompassing, unbearable pain ---- maybe it would go away.

But he couldn’t die.

His father would be waiting for him in hell.

At 13 years of age, Yuwen knew he wasn’t going to heaven. No, he had done too much wrong in this world. No matter how much he regretted it, no matter how much he pretended guilt didn’t suffocate him – he would never atone for the way he treated others.

So Yuwen stood. He wasn’t going to die today – not at the likes of the scum he called dad. He was going to live, goddamn it, and he was going to live well. Yuwen couldn’t fix his mistakes, but he sure as hell could try.

So Yuwen staggered to the bathroom, wincing with every step. He lifted his shirt in the stained mirror, revealing dark, blotted shapes that wormed around his chest and collected in concentrated pools of purple and black. He could make out sharp pieces of bone bulging underneath his skin, threatening to puncture his flesh.

His vision swam, blurring pale skin and the contusions that tarnished it. He stumbled backwards, the mottled skin on his back meeting the tiled wall. He screamed, barely registering his own voice, and collapsed to the ground.

Notes:

ouch that hurt

 

also, hey guys! ngl, i didn't expect to be posting again but you can thank the wonderful SelfProclaimedGenius for writing this amazing, angsty chap for the fic! im posting it here in their stead bc they dont currently have an a03 acc

hope you enjoyed their lovely work <3 (i sure did!)