↳ LEVEL 1.0

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TODO, THE COMPANION
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In any given social situation, Frank was thinking one of three things; was the whole interaction necessary? Did he have a viable escape route? And inevitably, what was stopping him from clocking that person right then and there?

And, unfortunately for his will to believe he was a pacifist, that last question was very present in his head as his step brother, Anthony, blabbed to his mother about his day.

Frank really didn't want to be that guy... but he hated Anthony.

He was a year older than Frank, making him a Senior, and he was the biggest dick Frank had ever fucking met- and Frank went to public school with a bunch of teenagers that smelled like sweat and cologne. So that should be enough of an indicator of how much Anthony sucked.

Frank couldn't even describe what it was, but every time he saw Anthony, and was smacked over the head with the flat of his hand, it made Frank grit his teeth. It wasn't a gesture of friendship, they weren't in some weird fucking club... Anthony hit hard and it stung. He mocked Frank more than his own father had, and when Frank's mother wasn't home, Anthony would fuck girls in the living room knowing damn well Frank was trying to study.

Anthony was a bully. He towered over the freshmen and took their lunch money. He teased the overweight kids and anyone he suspected of being gay. He didn't care if they were or not, just so long as his crew laughed, and unfortunately, Frank and his friends fell under that category.

It wasn't terrible bullying, not at all. Frank never came home crying, he never came home with bloody noses from Anthony, but he did come home with clenched fists and white knuckles. Frank hated it. He tried so hard to be a good person, to be there for his friends, to be a good student. But he had so much hatred in his heart for Anthony, someone who lived in his own home.

Which was how Frank had developed this stigma to being home.

If Frank had the chance he'd stay out all the damn time, even if his mother missed him. Which she didn't often- Hell, Frank's stepdad, Rob, cared more about Frank's whereabouts than she did. She wasn't a bad mother, not at all, she was just so busy. She was too busy to listen to Frank talk about his day, or to hear about Frank's good grades or even who he was currently crushing on. Sure, Frank was seventeen- but he had always been a Mama's boy, even if maybe his mom didn't have time for him anymore.

Yet, she always seemed to have time for Rob and Anthony.

Anthony always had time to talk about his girlfriends and his quite average grades, but when Frank got to it, she'd just say:

"Sorry, Frankie. Maybe tomorrow, yeah?"

And then Frank would always smile and nod, mumbling his usual; "Okay, Ma."

But each time it felt like he was swallowing his anger like it it was a fire-seed. It was like he'd forgotten to drink something cool, and so it grew in his stomach until it felt boiling hot like a dragon that was on fire. And yet he would simply grin and bear it.

Frank didn't want to stress her out anymore than she already was... besides, he didn't have it too bad. Sometimes Patty would ask him what was wrong and Frank would get the chance to tell him about Anthony and the dragon terrorizing him. But Patty never gave him the response he wanted. Maybe Frank wanted someone to sympathize with him, he wanted someone to ask him if he was really okay- if he wanted to talk about it. But Patty would just nod and talk about his own day, which Frank knew he had every right to do, but it made him feel cast-aside. Alone. Insignificant.

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