TWENTY

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Hugo did not text him, ever. He was too scared, too embarrassed by his own stupid actions to text him. Stefan probably did hate him after the stunt he pulled on his birthday and Hugo didn't blame him. He barely spoke to Renee too, and whenever she brought up Stefan he would change the subject or stop replying.

Instead of worrying about Stefan and Renee, he requested more shifts at work to keep himself busy until it was time to move in. He'd already organised moving in with Renee and Stefan before everything with the birthday party happened, but she hadn't mentioned it at all in the week that passed. He decided to get his father to help instead.

He sighed when the pulled up out the front of the apartment block with a truck filled with furniture and boxes. All week, his mind had been at war with itself, debating whether or not he should message Stefan. He pulled out his phone and unlocked it, opening up his messages with the other man.

Stefan: Hugo? Are you alright?

Stefan: Please tell me you got home alright

Stefan: Renee says you messaged her, so at least you're okay. Can you please talk to me? I don't understand what I did

Stefan: Hugo come on it's been days. This isn't fair. I have no idea what I did

Stefan: Wow okay. I thought you were just drunk when you said not to talk to you anymore. I didn't realise you meant it. Whatever Hugo

The last one was from two days ago. Just looking at the last message made his anxious and too scared to say anything. Stefan was angry with him, all because he was an idiot and was too scared to say anything. He'd been so embarrassed when Stefan messaged him the day after the party that he didn't know what to say. He'd ruined the birthday of someone he called friend, someone he had a major crush on. How could he come back from that?

"Hey," his father said, interrupting his train of thought, "Get out of the truck, we've got a lot to do today." Hugo nodded and hopped out of the truck's cab. His father opened up the back of the truck and he cringed. It had been a pain to get everything in the truck. Getting it out would be so much worse. At least his place was on the ground floor. They wouldn't have to carry anything up the stairs. "Grab a couple of boxes and let's get moving."

With two boxes in hand and his new keys in his pocket, Hugo led his father to the tiny apartment that now belonged to him. He'd been allowed to check it out properly a couple of days ago when he had to sort out rent payment and all the gross adult things he now had to worry about. He dropped the boxes, unlocked the door, and smiled at the empty space before him.

The only things they had given him was the kitchen and bathroom furniture. He had to bring everything else, including the bed, which had been a pain to disassemble. It would be worse to put back together.

He dropped the boxes in the middle of the room and leaned back to watch his father bring in the bed frames. "This place isn't so bad," his father said as he placed the bed frames against the living room wall. "I know you've been feeling down lately for whatever reason, but I think this will be good for you."

"I hope so," Hugo replied with a tiny smile. "All we have to do is get everything inside. I can set up the bed on my own."

"You won't though, will you?" his father said. They walked back down the hall together, the door closing with a faint click. "You're going to sleep on your mattress until I visit and build it for you."

"I will not."

"You will too. I'm building it tonight."

"You're going to be tired by the time we bring everything in."

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