HE WASNT BROKEN ALL THE TIME. not that it mattered. all the pieces were big enough to put together again, finding whatever adhesive that dried clear. unsuspected. he liked the smell of it though, reminded him of dirty hands and shiny glitter before the yelling started. back when glue was just meant to make things pretty. now it was dulling sharp edges, trying to blend into the background so that it wouldnt be thrown away. maybe thats why they were called 'broken homes', an eye sore destined to be vacated and demolished.
a smile cracked across his lips like a shooting star, sudden and falling. the whiskey painted his pale skin with a flush, blonde hair a little too long to tame. not that he was looking to be presentable at two in the morning. his boots and jeans were splattered with splattered beer, his t-shirt stained with red dots. his thoughts were nothing but muddled ingredients at the bottom of a glass, drowned in vices and served with a straw. he was tired of the taste.
the man beside him had matching bloody knuckles and budding bruises. the fight was stupid in all the same ways that made it cathartic. wrong place, wrong back country bar. neither of them expected to see the other ever again. huckleberry fucked off back to the military, leaving behind heartbroken teenagers with big dreams of what could come after.
he didnt speak to anita again for years. all the walls the marine had broken down came back taller and stronger, no one could climb them anymore. hucks lie-by-omission had done a number on her, digging up all the disappointment and abandonment that had been laid to rest. last he heard she got into some fancy police academy and never looked back. billy wasnt much better. people compare it to losing a brother but it was more like losing a limb. sometimes he could pretend like he was still there until he couldnt.
but they werent teenagers anymore. their baggage got bigger and heavier, dragging it behind them like a dead body in winter. they had a better head on their shoulders but never quite learned how to shed their anger at unfair world. they just got better at time and place. well, for the most part. how the nomad ended up in the same texas bar as his old friend was a fucking mystery. a twisted version of fate.
he turned his head to the side, spitting blood into dirt. the sound echoed in the empty street, breaking up at the white noise of cicadas. there was a ten foot gap between them, there always had been. too different to bridge without someone standing in between. too bad — he really liked huck when he didnt have a stick up his ass. he had hoped that a decade had dislodged it by now but he wasnt sure. huck had cracks too.
rings clinked against each other as he reached into his jacket pocket, fishing out the nearly crushed pack of cigarettes. fucking hell. his brow furrowed followed with a sharp shooting pain zipping down from split skin where fist met bone. he dug out a cancer stick that hadnt been completely smashed, putting it between his lips to look for his lighter. huck had never been much of a talker and it didnt seem that changed much. so he exhaled and filled person sized hole with the comforting smell of tobacco, chasing the nicotine that would coat his nerves along side the pills. he didnt like texas much so he didnt plan to stay for long. god knows, he shouldve left the moment they were kicked out of the bar. huck never liked him anyway.
too bad he was shit at killing old habits. he tended to hold on until they started kicking and screaming.
he held out the cigarette to the other, a hovering olive branch. the gesture was a distant memory, one in the parking lot of school with a boy who 'blended in' about as well as the blonde did. it worked that time. his eyes met hucks. the sadness was familiar, so was the anger but it sank deeper into a darkness that he couldnt name. it was the same kind that anita held the few times they had crossed paths. another smile curved across his lips, flashing bloodied teeth with that same practiced ease.
" know of a diner nearby, cowboy? "
everything changed but caed never knew how. he just kept putting himself back together again, hoping it would stick this time.
for @e1igius / @kinghaargrove
