Multi-Fandom Gay One-Shots

Julie and The Phantoms: Luke x Reggie: Thief

(A/N): This chapter has very strong and homophobic language. It also touches on child homelessness and abusive parents. Please, if any of these trigger you, do not read this chapter. It's pretty dark. But it has a happy ending I promise. Also, I LOVE Julie and The Phantoms. It's so good. As always, hope you enjoy, PEACE!

 Reggie wasn't always like this. So closed off and cold. He used to be the nicest person you'd ever meet. And he still was. Now he's just... different. He never really had any friends growing up. He suffered alone for years with no one to turn to and no one to support him. His life used to be good. His parents were there and they loved him. They would take him to the beach behind his house and play with him until the sun went down. That was until was 11, that's when the fighting started. At first, it was every once in a while over something big. Then it slowly turned into it happening every day. His parents slowly stopped caring. They barely cared if he ate or not. He would try to avoid being at home as much as possible, but he had nowhere else to go.

He would spend so much time trying to drown out the yelling and screaming coming from downstairs. It got even worse when the beatings started. He quickly learned how to nurse himself back to health. His dad would always hit him in places he could cover up, careful to avoid his face and arms. His mom would stand by and watch it happen. Most likely too drunk to care. He would always physically recover, but mentally, he never did.

After a while, Reggie made a point to avoid people. He didn't trust them anymore. If his own parents, the people who gave him life, didn't love him, how could he expect anyone else to? Being at school didn't help either. The stares he would get in the hallways. The names like 'Freak' and 'weirdo' were things he typically heard from his classmates. So Reggie pushed down all of his feelings. His kindness, his love, his heart. No one really knew him, not even himself. The one thing he always loved was music. On his 10th birthday, his parents bought him a bass. It was the last thing they got him before everything bad started to happen. He cherished that instrument. It became a sort of a stress reliever. Whenever he was sad, upset, or scared, he would slide the bass from under his bed and strum it quietly to himself. It was the one thing he loved more than anything he owned. That's why his heart broke as it was smashed to pieces in front of him.

Since his family started breaking apart, Reggie would write down all of his thoughts and feelings in a journal. He hid away from his family so they wouldn't find out. Every day, without fail, he would write inside of it, his hopes and wishes that his broken home would repair itself, but It never did. But his family wasn't the only thing he wrote about. For a short time, before he started avoiding his emotions, he would write about his crushes in school. One of the most prominent being his crush on a boy named Jack during his freshman year of high school. It lasted a few months before he realized nothing would ever happen between them. After all, he was a freak. So Reggie eventually let it go.

Today when Reggie got home from school he expected to see his mom sitting on the couch, halfway through a bottle of wine, and his dad at work. What he wasn't expecting to see was both of his parents waiting for him on the couch with his journal in front of him and his bass resting against the side of the couch by his father.

"Reggie, what is this?" His father's tone was angry. His eyes were cold like there was nothing left in them. Like he was just a husk, a shell of the parent and husband he used to be. Reggie stayed quiet, he knew they already went through it, they wouldn't be questioning him otherwise. "I ASKED YOU A QUESTION REGINALD!" His father snapped and jumped off the couch. Reggie jumped back, he started shaking with fear.

"I-i-it's m-my j-journal," Reggie said softly, almost inaudible. The tension in the room was almost crushing. He knew he had no other option than to cooperate.