Kiss with a Fist

Chapter 7

Billy hummed as he took a shower, enjoying the hot water and the peace and quiet. His father was on a work trip. He had three whole days of salvation. He was still battered and bruised from last time but at least he had some time to heal. Without the threat of Neil around he was actually in a good mood. Even going as far as singing along to Bon Jovi in the shower.

The music made his thoughts wander though. Maybe it was Bon Jovi's curly mountain of hair that brought back images of last two nights ago. The night he'd spent with Eddie the freak Munson who had oh so similar hair.

Billy exhaled shakily as he ran a hand over the marks littering his skin. If they didn't fade soon he'd have to find a way to hide them before his father came back-he should of been more careful but it had felt so good he hadn't wanted Eddie to stop. It had hurt but in a way that felt good. Eddie had taken control and he'd been rough but also sweet. He'd even made them breakfast the next morning.

Billy bit his lip as he realised he liked Eddie. He liked the other's company. Eddie had good music, he smelled like home. Like weed, leather and coconut shampoo and something soft and earthy and just Eddie. Billy liked the cosy clutter of the trailer and Eddie's room. It had personality and it at least looked lived in. The posters that covered the walls like wallpaper. The stacks of comics and manga, the racks of records and VHS tapes. The horror movie themed blankets. The dresser that was stacked with silver rings, eyeliner pens, hairspray and smoking paraphernalia. Everything about it just screamed Eddie.

It was so unlike Billy's room. He had a few posters-but his father wouldn't allow him to have anymore. Aside from the vanity desk which held his hair products and cologne, and the record table with his stack of records and tapes next to-there wasn't much in the room that screamed Billy-it didn't have his flair. There were only hints of himself in the room. Like he was afraid to truly live in it-and he was. He couldn't be his true self in that house. It would quite literally kill him.

Billy stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around his waist. Steam curled around his tanned skin as he grabbed his hair mousse and scrunched some into his curls. He carefully dried himself, avoiding the bruises on his stomach. Pulling on a faded Motley Crue shirt and some grey sweatpants, Billy headed to his bedroom, once again reminded of how detached he felt from it. It was just a bedroom in a house that he lived in. It wasn't his room. It wasn't his home. California had been his home, not it was so far away that there wasn't even an ocean. His room was now lived in by some other kid who would never know the horror's that went down in there, would never see the bloodstains that Billy had been forced to paint over, as if they were his fault. In Neil's eyes they were. Billy had misbehaved. Billy had forced Neil it discipline him. It was all Billy's fault. Everything was Billy's fault.

Billy didn't realise he was crying until he tasted salt on his lips and realised it was from the tears streaming down his face. He roughly scrubbed his face with the palms of his hands. He needed to study for the test he had tomorrow.
Billy grabbed his Walkman and let the familiar guitar riffs of The Scorpions filter through his brain as he sat at his desk attempting to get algebra to stick in his mind. Maths was his weakest subject. He was still good at it but he didn't enjoy it as much as English or Science.

A few hours later Billy felt a tap on his shoulder. He put his headphones around his neck and turned to look at Max. She was holding a plate with a sandwich on it. Billy didn't realise he'd been studying so long it had turned from morning to lunch time. A small smile tugged at his lips. "Thanks shitbird. Did you eat?" He asked as he took the plate and took a bite of the chicken sandwich. Max nodded before biting her lip like she wanted to say something.

Billy noticed and quirked an eyebrow at her. "What do you want Max, spit it out."

"Do you want to a movie...or something. We could even paint each other's nails like we did back in Cali." She murmured quietly.