Regret (Ianthony)

One Month, Two Weeks Prior

Ding-dong. Ding-dong.

"I got it!" Anthony yelled as he trampled his dirty laundry that he had just tossed on the ground after changing into some random tee-shirt and a pair of raggedy jeans. Racing to answer the door, Anthony found himself tripping over his own feet and landing in a near face-plant. Thankfully, his elbows had broken his fall, his face inches from the carpet that was now stinging his now slightly-scraped elbows. Getting up hurriedly, he cupped a hand subconsciously under one elbow as he yanked the door open to reveal Angela, recognizable piercings and all. Her hair, which had previously been cherry-red, was now a deep, rolling purple. Underneath a few loose strands of wavy locks, Anthony saw that her normally dark-brown irises were concealed under bright yellow color contacts.

"Hey," he greeted her casually, swinging the door open even further and pressing his body against the door, allowing her to step in.

Angela made her way into the threshold and sat on the far left end of the couch, leaning back into the leather. "Thanks for inviting me to go bowling," she thanked appreciatively, waving Anthony over to sit down beside her.

"Just a second, gotta get ready," Anthony responded, skipping down the hallway and back into his room, where he dug out his favorite beanie from his dresser and shoved it over his straight black hair. He never really wore his hat when it was just Ian and him, but since Angela would be with them, Anthony decided to look more presentable than usual. Plus, he fucking loved having an excuse to wear his favorite grey beanie. He always noticed when Ian stared at him longer while he was wearing it, and flourished in the unnecessary attention.

As soon as the hat was on his head, Anthony walked back into the living room, where Ian was already sitting beside Angela, talking about some lame new Mario spin-off. Then, noticing that Anthony was prepared to take his leave, Angela and Ian stood and began making their way out to the garage.

 "So... You guys are really starting to make this a thing?" Angela casually questioned as she slid into the backseat on Anthony's car behind the driver's side, where Anthony was stepping in.

Ian hopped into the backseat behind the passenger's seat and all three of them slammed the car doors shut simultaneously. "Of course!" he cheered, not even needing to ask what she was talking about.

Raising an eyebrow as he clicked his seat belt into place, Anthony contributed, "You mean our relationship? Yeah." He heard their seat belts also click and his eyes flew up to the rear-view mirror to look Angela in the eyes. "Any reason why you ask?"

She shrugged. "Nah, I just thought you guys would've kept it a secret. But, since you're not..." Anthony saw a smirk creep onto her face slowly. "When's the wedding?"

There was silence for a second before Anthony jammed down the button on the garage door-opener in a way that was harsh, yet careful.

Delayed reaction finally showing, Ian choked on his own breath before suggesting meekly, "Let's just go bowling and you can witness me kicking your asses."

The garage door creaked open slowly, way too slowly for Anthony's taste.

Teasingly pressing on, Angela sneered, "Escaping the question, are we?" Anthony could feel his cheeks heat up and sticky sweat begin to splay across his body. His palms were already slick, and he was just waiting to exit the confinement of the garage so he could have a valid excuse to change the topic of conversation.

Unexpectedly, Ian snickered coyly and countered, "Nah, you're just trying to distract me from beating you to shit when we bowl."

Angela's voice rose louder, and Anthony knew that he had just entered a war zone, no man's land, a forbidden territory. "Really? I think you're the one guilty of distractions."

This battle had to be stopped before it could begin.

Before the debate team could get at it further, Anthony jabbed the button to turn on the radio, which was tuned to some Sugar Ray song, and punched the gas, shooting the car backwards out of the garage. He punched the garage door-opener remote, causing the door to close slowly. He swiftly changed gears and drove into the street, but not before casting a glance at the rear-view mirror, to observe Angela's playfully challenged expression.

He knew this wasn't over.