𝙇𝙚𝙩 𝙈𝙚 𝙄𝙣.

Why Not Be Accepting?

West was dreading going to work that afternoon. He had used up all his sick days, so he was forced to go back. He was also tired of locking himself up in his room, that, and he needed money to install a deadbolt on his bedroom door.

You're wasting money, if Paul wants to knock down your door, he will.

"Ok, so maybe don't install a deadbolt." he mumbled to no one in particular as he neared the store.

West hardly ever spent his money, he only used it for important things, such as school textbooks or for filling up his gas tank. As hardworking as he was, he never spoiled himself, the last things West bought for himself were his wrecked Gibson Guitar and his old skateboard. The cartoon art on it had worn off and his beloved board was now a brown muddy color. Basically, his board was hideous. But West figured that if it still had 4 wheels, it was still good.

He knew he was a cheapskate, but he had his reasons. He started working at Shirley's over a year ago, he had been saving up since then. He wanted to get away from Easton and it's townspeople, he wanted to get away from the state of Maryland, he wanted to go where no one knew his name. He wanted to start afresh, to go to college, and maybe to meet the love of his life. Very cheesy, but he wanted that.
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"You've been avoiding me." Killian grumbled as West entered the store, he then jumped over the counter and marched up to him.

"Thanks for stating the obvious."

"Why? And what happened to your eye?" Killian questioned. "Does it hurt?" He extended a hand to touch West's face but West caught his wrist in mid air and snarled.

"Don't touch me."

Killian winced and roughly tore his wrist from West's grip. He rubbed at it to soothe the pain, but a hand print was already forming.

"I hurt you." West muttered under his breath after realizing what he had just done. He had no idea what had prompted him to be so defensive.

"Tell me what happened."

West shook his head, he couldn't tell him. He didn't like the idea of Killian pitying him or seeing him as weak. "I'm sorry. About your wrist... and for avoiding you the past week."

"You literally made me doubt my existence. Did I do something wrong?"

"It's not you. It's just... I'm not really ready for all of that."

"For all what? You do like guys, right?" Killian guessed, he hoped to God that West wasn't one of those people who were still exploring their sexuality. He had no problems with them, but he didn't want to get involved with them. Somebody would end up getting hurt, and Killian knew it was probably going to be him.

"I do--"

"So what is it then?" He pressed. "I can tell you like me too."

"You wouldn't understand."

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Killian was grateful that Linda hadn't brought up the incident that occurred, or rather, the moment she ruined by coming downstairs to have a glass of water when she had her own bathroom equipped with taps and actual running water, last week Thursday. But he'd be feeling less thankful in a moment.

"Is there something going on between you and Paul's son?"

"Mom. No."

We're in the middle of dinner for Christ's sake, at least wait 'til the kids are gone. He internally groaned.

"Are you lying to me?"

Sparrow released a fake cough, then pulled Dove and Trenton from their seats, "We're gonna... yeah."

Killian watched as his siblings flew up the stairs so they could avoid the building tension. "Why would I lie? I've told you about my previous boyfriends, have I not?"

Linda's mouth set in a hard line, she dropped her fork on the ceramic plate and it landed with a loud 'Clink', "Still. I think I'm gonna go over to Paul's after this."

Killian thought back to his earlier conversation with West. What wouldn't he understand? He didn't get a chance to ask because West rushed out into the garden, Killian didn't follow him, though. He could tell that West wanted to be alone. Maybe he hadn't come out yet... or maybe his father wasn't very accepting?

"I don't think that's a good idea."

But Linda was already halfway through the door.
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Guns 'N Roses blasted through the speakers at the Rickert Household. As you would expect, Paul was drunk. And West knew to stay away. He could hear his dad shouting the lyrics at the top of his lungs as he lay on his bed. West wondered if Maybe in a another life, he was a rock singer, he also wondered if Killian would've gotten along with his dad if he wasn't the way that he was, because Killian liked rock music too.
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Linda grimaced when she heard the loud music pounding from Paul's house as she trudged up the porch stairs. She had been rehearsing her speech the entire walk there, she would tell Paul that she thought that Weston was a bad influence on her precious son, so he should stay away, and that it was nothing personal. Yeah. Nothing personal.

It's not that I don't like Weston, she's my late best friend's son for goodness sake, but the things I've heard about him aren't great. I'm doing Killian a favor, any good mother would do what I'm about to do.

She rang the doorbell a couple of times before Paul opened the door. He scrunched up his face when he saw who it was through his blurry vision.

"What is it, Linda?"

She caught a whiff of what seemed to be vodka, or gin on Paul's breath.

"Have you been drinking?"

"Linda." Paul muttered angrily, he was already losing his patience.

"Right, well. I've heard some... unsettling things about your son from the townspeople."

"Get to the fucking point."

Linda grimaced then crossed her arms, obviously triggered by Paul's language. "I don't think he's a good influence on my son. I'd prefer it if he stayed away, it's nothing personal."

There was a tightening in Paul's eyes when she said that, if looks could kill. "That's Killian and Weston's decision to make."

"Well, I think--"

But Paul shut the door in her face.

She stood outside the wooden door, her eyes wide and mouth agape, completely and utterly stunned by Paul's behavior. She then tore her eyes from the door to stare at the 'Welcome' mat underneath her feet.

How ironic.

She was about to step away from the porch when she heard shouting coming from inside the house. Linda stayed rooted in place and pressed her ear against the door. It was of no use, the voices were muffled and the headache-inducing music wasn't making things easier.
She heard a strangled cry from the inside and immediately pulled out her phone and called the police.
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