Chapter Text
Guardian angels tend to appear in people’s lives in times of dire need. They watch over and care for the person going through immense pain. You’re my angel. I hope I’m yours.
7:28 AM, Tuesday. 3/16/26 | San Diego, California
Cruel humor, it was. Who laughs at the struggling kid with a dead brother? Vic couldn’t tell you. Those kids at school could, though. He dreaded going, just like every other kid. However, his reasons went far beyond schoolwork. The establishment was harsh on him. Vic thought to himself as he stared at the plain school-issued calendar on the wall beside him. March 16th, 2026. Today marked 2 months since Mike passed.
“You have to go to school. Your therapist said it’s the best place to be so you don’t hurt…” She gulped. It was almost like it harmed her to say it. The words finally came out, though. “So you dont hurt yourself, Vic. We’re all struggling.” Her words came sternly this time. She had a point to make.
“And yes, we all tried to act like we didn’t notice the two month mark. It’s hard for everyone… but please. You’ve skipped so much school. I don’t like when you stay locked up in your room, sweetie.” Her eyes narrowed to his wrists. Vic felt the shame and humiliation course through his veins. “It worries me, honey.” Vic was almost offended. Her main reason for him to attend school like a normal kid was only so he was constantly monitored by the sour faculty and staff at the place. That was it. She was too polite to admit it, though.
“That’s… That’s not fair, mom! Just tell the school I’m mourning,” Vic was still sat in his chair at the table as he whined. “Or whatever.” Vic awaited his mother’s response. She simply continued packing her bag for work. “You’re going. I know you’re already late, but I’ll drive you on my way to work. Come on.” Vic realized his mother wouldn’t tolerate his extensive school-skipping any longer. Part of him was ready to argue, but he knew how hard it was on Mom.
Vic was still rather unenthusiastic about accepting defeat. He honestly wished to himself that he didn’t get dressed, didn’t get out of his warm covers, didn’t come downstairs… Hell, he wished he didn’t even wake up. But there he was, as the small car powered up and its engine awoke with a roar. ▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀
10:47 AM, Tuesday. 3/16/26 | Grand Rapids, Michigan.
He was skipping school yet again. Kellin knew all too well how to evade the school rules. It was instilled in him. One random day in Sophomore year, he learned he could just cut school and get his friends to back him up. They were good like that. Kellin thought of his friends, and how he would miss them so greatly once he moved to San Diego. Justin, the most. Kellin swallowed rapidly from the bottle of beer before sighing. Justin sat beside him on the bridge and they simply rested there contently. They had a few moments before Justin filled the silence.
“Man, I really don’t want you to move.. I mean…. Who else is gonna help me deal with Mr. Green?!” Justin’s eyes narrowed to Kellin’s, and they kept an awkward eye contact for a moment before Kellin giggled as he replied to Justin. Kellin looked forward into the distance as he began speaking. “Well I’m just glad to escape from Caleb, to be honest... I don’t know how my mom fuckin’ married him in the first place, dude.. He’s a nightmare.” Justin laughed at the remark, but Kellin couldn’t. He was being transported into the awful memories of Caleb’s creation. Kellin nearly shivered thinking about the almost black bruises tattered across his skin. The cold feeling he got when he went to bed after receiving a hellish beating. No one knew about that besides Caleb (obviously,) and him. No one would know about it. His ‘stepdad’’s words echoed through the bottomless pit of his mind. “And make sure no one sees or knows about this, kid. I will have you gone before you know it.” Kellin’s own screams sent shatters through his brain. He nearly felt the cold leather ripping away at his back. He remembered it all. Felt it all. His shrieks and cries. He would’ve jumped off that bridge right then and there if he hadn’t snapped back into reality.
“Uhh.. Kellin?!”
“H..Huh.. What?”
“I said ‘did you pack all your room stuff?’” Justin’s face bloomed with concern as Kellin remained staring into the abyss. “Oh.” He quickly looked to Justin, and back down towards their alcohol. “Yeah. Packed up all my posters before Caleb could tear them down out of spite. He’s being a real ass about the divorce and he’s taking it out on me.. No surprise there.” Kellin so carefully made sure to dance around his words as to not remind himself of how terrorizing his situation was with his mother’s (now) ex. “First rule, kid. Make sure no one finds out about this or you’ll get somethin’ far worse than a belt on your back.” Kellin worriedly looked over to his best friend, hoping he wouldn’t figure out the abuse. It had become habit to assure that no one knew about it. Kellin was honestly shocked that he was able to keep it a secret. He held this devastating confession so poorly, but no one thought anything of it. Justin simply looked pitiful for himself and for Kellin. Good. He was clueless. To poor Justin, Caleb was just a grouchy stepdad who had these unexplained mood swings. He didn’t know what was going on, and he wouldn’t.
“That sucks. I’m gonna miss you like crazy but I’m glad you’re leaving him. I don’t get his issue with you, dude…” Kellin hummed in response and continued staring at the river. Though Kellin was on a bridge with cars beaming behind him, sitting next to his dearest friend, he felt alone with his thoughts in the moment.
Kellin realized he needed time to work this out. Drink until he forgot about his past. That was when he decided he’d go home and just… forget for a little while. He knew it wasn’t the best way to cope, but he could afford it. That mattered to him greatly. He wanted to avoid burdening his mother, as Caleb assured him that she hated Kellin with every bone in her body. All Kellin was was trouble and a problem. That was all he’d ever be.
”Alright Justin, I think I’m gonna head out. Probably still need to pack what’s left. The flight leaves pretty early tomorrow.”
Everything was packed. He could’ve stayed there all night, but he had plans. Plans with his thoughts. Plans with hard liquor.