I'm (Not) Okay

[Tonyksin]

[Lorenzo Tavares Pregame Memories Start]

Chk… chk… chk…

“Son of a bitch”

Chk... chk... chk… Fwoosh!

The sound of the lighter finally igniting gave the boy some relief, and he quickly used it to light the cigarette hanging out of his mouth. He tossed the shitty lighter over towards where his backpack lay on the dirty alleyway’s ground about ten feet to the right of him. He’d dropped it when he got pulled in here, at least nothing fell out it looked like. He took a long drag from the cigarette and winced as he let the smoke out of his lungs. It seems they did a number on his left side. He gingerly touched the spot the pain came from with his right hand and felt a wave of soreness radiate through his body as he moved. That was probably going to be a nasty bruise. He took another drag of the cigarette. He didn’t give a damn if it hurt, he fucking needed it. Lorenzo Tavares let his head fall back against the brick wall behind him and closed his eyes, trying to will the pain in his body away. As if. He’d taken quite the ass-kicking after all, it was gonna be awhile before he felt in top form again.

Lorenzo pulled his right knee up to his chest slowly, trying not to aggravate the most sensitive parts of his body, and rested his right forearm against it after pulling the still lit cigarette from his lips. He let the smoke cascade from his barely parted lips and winced again slightly as he did so. He opened his eyes and looked over at what was left of his skateboard. He groaned as he turned his head and brought his left hand up to where the pain shot directly into his skull from. The area he touched was wet, and he brought his hand into his line of sight to check it that meant blood. Yep. A decent amount of it too. That must’ve come from his forced skull-to-wall contact earlier. Not great. He wiped his hand off on his jeans and took another pull from the cigarette between his fingers. He thought back to how he ended up in this situation, sitting on the ground in an alleyway a block or so away from The Blue House, bleeding and bruised. If he was being honest, he could have probably avoided this situation, but he never really knew when to keep his mouth shut.

It was a Saturday and he was skating around town pretty bored. He’d gotten thirsty, so he made his way over to the cafe to get himself a iced coffee. Of course, nothing could ever be easy, so of course Wyatt Carter’s gigantic douche-y ass was there with his asshole buddies. Lorenzo SHOULD have just gotten his coffee and walked out, but as he walked past the Sasquatch Lorenzo heard him say some homophobic bullshit. Being the kind of person he was, and without considering the obvious consequences, Lorenzo of course retorted the only way he knew how.

“Sorry Wyatt, I’m a bit booked up today, but I’ll be happy to pencil you in for a quick blow-and-go let’s say… Monday before practice? I know that’s your favorite time slot.”

Not the smartest thing to say.

As soon as the words left his mouth and he saw the rage in Wyatt’s eyes Lorenzo did his absolute best to book it the fuck out of dodge. Sadly he didn’t get very far. The gay panic patrol caught up to him pretty quickly and dragged him into the alley in which he currently sat. Wyatt threw him into the wall and savagely drove his knee into his stomach. Lorenzo did what he could to fight back, but come on, how much damage was he really gonna do against the beast that was Wyatt? Especially when he had his cronies there to hold Lorenzo down so he could lay into him. The piece de resistance was when Wyatt grabbed him by his hair and smashed his face into the brick wall. Lorenzo was lucky he still had all his teeth, like shit, was Wyatt actually trying to kill him? Well… Probably. They really didn’t have to smash his board against the wall though, that shit was just rude.

After getting an intimate look at the bricks, and getting his board wrecked, the three no-homo-bros took their time literally kicking him while he was down. Lorenzo lost count of the amount of times he felt one of their shoes dig into his body. Eventually, he just decided to take the path of least resistance and curled his body into a ball, at least attempting to protect his face from their assault. As usual, they soon grew bored with him, and left him there, but not without throwing a few more “faggot”s or “cocksucker”s his way. Now here he was, in a shit ton of pain, no skateboard, and by far the worst part, his latte was lost and abandoned in the scuffle. He was only able to take one single sip out of it before his mouth got him in trouble. What a waste of good caffeine.

Lorenzo took one last pull from his cigarette before hi flicked it away from himself. This was how it always ended up. This was why he didn’t get close to anyone. Everyone in this shitty fucking hick city pissed him off. He was positive this wasn’t where he was supposed to be. He brought up his other knee with a bit of pain and wrapped his arms around his knees, burying his face into them. He absolutely couldn’t wait to get out of this hot garbage fire of a state, and get on with his life somewhere he didn’t have to worry about monsters like Wyatt. His back began to shake a bit, and soon he felt his throat choking up. Shit. This was such bullshit. Don’t cry. Don’t fucking give them the satisfaction you fucking weakling. DON’T FUCKING CRY! It was too late, he felt the tears running down his cheeks and he just buried his face further into his knees.

Just another year and a half. That’s it. Then he could go as far away from this place as he possibly could and never look back.


[Lorenzo Tavares Memories Continued In Jawbreaker]