Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/ works/13556682. Rating: Explicit Archive Warning: Rape/Non-Con, Underage Category: F/F, F/M, M/M Fandom: 5_Seconds_of_Summer_(Band), PVRIS_(Band), Fall_Out_Boy, All_Time_Low_ (Band), My_Chemical_Romance, Panic!_at_the_Disco, Waterparks_(Band), The Academy_Is..., Cobra_Starship Relationship: Michael_Clifford/Luke_Hemmings, Alex_Gaskarth/Luke_Hemmings, Luke Hemmings/Original_Character(s), Patrick_Stump/Brendon_Urie, Jack_Barakat/ Zack_Merrick, Frank_Iero/Gerard_Way, Mikey_Way/Pete_Wentz, William Beckett/Gabe_Saporta, Awsten_Knight/Geoff_Wigington Character: Michael_Clifford, Luke_Hemmings, Alex_Gaskarth, Calum_Hood, Ashton_Irwin, Patrick_Stump, Brendon_Urie, Jack_Barakat, Zack_Merrick, Frank_Iero, Gerard_Way, Mikey_Way, Pete_Wentz, William_Beckett, Gabe_Saporta, Awsten Knight, Lynn_Gunn, Geoff_Wigington, Otto_Wood, Rian_Dawson, Original_Male Character(s) Additional Tags: Angst, Fluff, Smut, Self-Harm, Anorexia, Bulimia, Depression, Anxiety, OCD, Bipolar_Disorder, EDNOS, Suicide_Attempt, Suicidal_Thoughts, Rape, Rape/Non-con_-_Freeform, Molestation, Child_Neglect, Child_Abuse, Abusive Relationships, Abuse, Slow_Burn, Pining, BDSM, Dom/sub, Dom_Luke Hemmings, Sub_Michael_Clifford, First_Time, Alcohol_Abuse/Alcoholism, Drug_Abuse, Underage_Sex, Underage_Drinking, Physical_Abuse, Psych_Wards, Alternate_Universe_-_High_School, Alternate_Universe_-_Normal_Life, i'm just_projecting, I'm_so_so_sorry_boys, Trans_Character, Trans_Male Character, Trans_Luke, Trans_Michael, Non-binary_character Series: Part 1 of We're_Fucked_And_Don't_Care_At_All Stats: Published: 2018-02-03 Updated: 2018-02-13 Chapters: 6/12 Words: 7627 ****** We're Fucked And Don't Care At All, Book One ****** by fvnwithgvns Summary What starts as a diet turns into living hell for Luke Hemmings. Notes Hey, major trigger warning for this chapter and this story in general. I really go into details about anorexia and bulimia, as I'm drawing from my personal experience. Keep yourselves safe xx ***** January 2016 ***** It all starts with a diet.   After all, Luke knows he’s gained some weight. Not enough to be noticable, but enough for him to need to do something about it. And of course, it’s gone to the worst places- his thighs, making them curvier and more feminine than they already were, and his chest, making it so even a binder can’t fully flatten it.   Not that he has a binder, but still. He can’t get a binder until he comes out and no one, not even his closest friends, know he’s trans. It’s been two years, and he’s kept it a total secret, going to school in dresses with hair down to his ass. If anything, people would describe him as feminine. No one knows his secret.   He steps on the scales and sees 64.4kg flashing back at him. He’s only 5’5, he knows that’s too much.   He has to change.   The diet is going well for the first few days of January. 2016 will be his year. He’ll make sure it is.   He’s been doing well. Going for runs, eating salad for lunch, snacking twice a day instead of whenever he’s bored. He’s proud of himself. He can’t see a difference, not yet, but he feels it.   Until Ashton and his parents invite him out for food five days into his diet.   They’re sitting in the car, jamming out to blink-182, much to Ashton’s parents dismay.   “Mate, I hate to tell you this, but Reckless Abandon is the best song off this album.”   Ashton punches Luke’s arm lightly. “You’re wrong, Lu. Anthem Part 2 is where it’s at.”   “Yeah, but listen to the drums in Reckless Abandon. Travis is a fucking genius.”   “I’m not debating that, but listen to the lyrics in Anthem. They’re perfect for the disenfranchised youth. Like us. ”   The continue debating into the restaurant, some Thai place Ashton’s mom found. It’s in the middle of nowhere, but the reviews were great. Ashton’s parents order five different dishes, piling both boys’ plates high. Luke digs in, not thinking about his diet.   “Thank you so much, Mr. and Mrs. Irwin. This is amazing,” Luke says, mouth half full of curry.   “Of course, Lucy.” Mrs. Irwin smiles, though the name stings. It’s not her fault, but Luke hates his birthname.   Luke is far too distracted to think about stopping eating. He and Ashton are deep in debate about the best song off American Idiot.   “Michelle agrees with me. It’s St. Jimmy.” Luke says, stabbing his fork into a spring roll.   “What does she know? She just started listening to blink like a week ago.” Ashton shoots back.   “Yeah, but she’s been listening to Green Day since before you could walk.”   “No, Lu, that’s you. She never told you when she started listening to them.”   “Yeah, well she’s at least been listening to them since year 8. She liked them when we met.”   “We’re in year-bloody-9! That’s not that long!”   “Ashton! Language!” Mr. Irwin cuts in from across the table.     After Thai they drive around the neighborhood, stopping at a donut place by Luke’s house. Luke greedily shoves an Oreo donut in his mouth, again, his diet forgotten.   It’s only once Ashton and his family drop Luke off at his house and leave that the guilt hits.   You fucked everything up. This is what you do every time you go on a diet. This is why you never lose any weight. You need to do it right this time, you need to get skinnier.   He goes to his computer. Last time he lost weight, he can do it again.   Quick weight loss tips   How to stay on a diet   He stumbles across the site when he’s already at least 15 minutes into searching. It’s a link to a page entitled fastest weight loss with Ana.   Who the fuck is Ana? He clicks on the page, intrigued.   10 day water fast   Hey all,   I’m starting my 10 day water fast today. My parents are going out of town for the weekend, so the first 3 days should be easy. I’ll have to be out constantly to not get caught after that, not that I’m complaining. My starting weight is 98.7lbs or 44.8kg (bmi 17.5) and I’m hoping to lose at least 15lbs (or 6.8kg for you non-Americans).   Wish me luck, lovelies. And remember, get skinny, not caught.   xx   It’s then that it hits him. Ana is short for anorexia. He’s always been fairly interested in eating disorders. After all, he likes learning, and it’s a fascinating subject. He’s never thought of it in terms of a diet, only a mental illness. The fact that someone could do that to themselves both scares and excites him.   6.8kg in 10 days? He wants in.   There’s a voice somewhere at the back of his head telling him how stupid this is, how he could end up dead or with serious medical complications. He’s watched enough documentaries to know that. But at the same time, he needs to lose weight. He needs to make up for his mistake today. So maybe he’ll do it for a week, just to make up for today.   He scrolls through the site, learning about various diets and calorie-counting and how to hide everything. He spends the most time on a page entitled Newbie Anas. While there’s quite a lot of advice on how to start, there’s just as many members warning “Newbies” to stop while they can. Stubborn as he is, Luke ignores it all.   He decides he’ll start by counting calories. 500 a day is said to be good for beginners, nothing to difficult. Of course he remembers the last time he calorie-counted and how he was allowed 1700 a day and still lost weight. But this isn’t last time. He’s got so much more weight to lose, at least 14kg. He refuses to weigh more than last time. This time, he’ll be better.   Hell, might as well lose 20kg. Make it even. 44kg is a pretty good number. He’s always wanted to be thin. Not average thin, but almost scary thin. It’s the beginning of the end, but he doesn’t know it yet.   ***   2 slices of wheat toast. No butter. 100 cals.   Pasta dinner. 350 cals.   Daily total: 450.   He’s 3 days in and honestly, it’s the easiest thing he’s ever done. He skips lunch everyday as his mum isn’t home for lunch, then only eats a small portion of dinner, saying he snacked a lot before she got home. He feels way better than he thought he would. He has so much energy, he devised a daily workout that he does while his mum is at work.   He never thought he’d do this, but it’s okay. He won’t lose control and develop a full-blown eating disorder. As long as he’s in control, as long as it’s just a diet and nothing more, it’s okay.   Everything is okay until school starts back up again.   He’s a week and a half in. Sure, it’s gone on a little longer than he originally planned, but that’s okay, why should he stop when it’s working so well?   He and Ashton are waiting outside school, waiting for Ashton’s mum to pick them up. They’ve been rambling on about stupid things, from Luke’s lost Maths textbook to the blink concert that’s still six months away.   “Lucy, are you starving yourself?” Ashton’s question comes out of nowhere.   Luke has no idea how to respond. “I’m--I’m not, I wouldn’t,” he stutters.   “Really? Because you haven’t had a lunch since we got back from hols, and your stomach is like, this,” Ashton makes a gesture, measuring with his hands. “Much smaller. That just doesn’t happen overnight.”   “First of all, the stomach thing is because I’m wearing high-waisted jeans.” Luke pulls up his shirt to show Ashton. “Second, I have everything under control. I promise.”   “So you are! Lucy, that’s not healthy. And you know you won’t actually lose any weight, right? Starving yourself makes you gain weight.”   “It’s not a big deal, Ash. It’s not like I have an eating disorder. And beside, it doesn’t make you gain weight.” I’ll prove that, he thinks angrily.   Ashton sighs. “You better not let this get out of control, Lu. I gotta go.” He gestures to the car where his mum is waiting.   “See you tomorrow.” Luke offers a half-hearted wave.   He walks home, grinding his trainers into the pavement. He didn’t want anyone knowing, and now one of his best friends has picked up on it. He’s been terrified of people finding out ever since he first started. He’s been taught by the site that the absolute worst thing is someone finding out. If they find out, they’ll try to stop you. And he can’t have that.   ***   “Lu, c’mon, you gotta hang out with us. It’ll be fun, just you, me, and Ashton. My house. We’ll order a pizza or something.” Michelle says over the phone one Saturday in late January.   “Sure.” Luke grins. Going out is a perfect opportunity to fast without his mum finding out. “I’ll be on my way in about five minutes, be there in like thirty. That good?”   “No problem, mate. See you then.”   Luke quickly brushes his hair and teeth and pulls on the first outfit he finds, a black lacy dress and dark purple tights. He laces up his combat boots and pulls his long, wavy hair into a high ponytail. He shoves some stuff in a tote bag, knowing more likely than not he’ll wind up sleeping over. He starts the walk to Michelle’s house, which is about twenty minutes. He shoves in his headphones and blasts Green Day.   The walk goes by quickly, accompanied by a soundtrack of Dookie played loud enough to burst his eardrums. Music stops thoughts and lately Luke hasn’t been wanting to think.   Ashton answers the door, a Neck Deep song blasting throughout Michelle’s entire flat. Their conversation the other day apparently forgotten, Ashton pulls Luke into a tight hug.   “‘Chelle! Lu’s here!” Ashton shouts. “Michelle’s parents are out with her brother and sister so we got the place to ourselves. Come on, we ordered pizza and there’s donuts.”   Fuck. Food.   Michelle is shoving a surprisingly hot-pink donut into her mouth as Luke steps in. “Lu!” she cries out, her mouth half full. Ashton and Luke laugh. “Have a donut,” she says, offering the box to Luke.   And suddenly it’s just like before, all his diet mentalities thrown out the window as he accepts a chocolate glazed donut. He hasn’t realized how hungry he is until now. He shoves the donut into his mouth with no thoughts of calories.   A few games of FIFA and several slices of pizza later it hits him how much he’s eaten. How he fucked up an entire month’s progress. He gave into the temptation of the ultimate enemy, food.   “I have to go to the toilet,” he mumbles suddenly, racing up the stairs to the second floor bathroom.   He almost doesn’t believe what he’s doing until he’s bent over the toilet with two fingers down his throat.   He said he wouldn’t let it get bad.   But it hasn’t, has it? He fucked up. He went over his calorie limit, way over. He has to fix that, doesn’t he?   He gags and empties the contents of his stomach into the toilet.   When he walks back down the stairs with red, watery eyes, he feels slightly better.   ***   January 28th. Exactly a month from the day his diet started.   Weigh day.   He removes his clothes down to his bra and underwear and steps on the scales, almost too frightened to look at the number blinking back at him.   58.9kg.   He doesn’t know how to feel. Two proper binges and he’s still lost four and a half kilos. Slightly over that, actually.   He turns to look in the mirror, examining his stomach, his arms, his thighs. He grabs the measuring tape from his desk and wraps it around his stomach.   What was 76cm is now 71. He stares at the tape in shock, unable to believe he lost 5cm in a month. That’s almost impossible, isn’t it? And with those two days too! He wants to jump up and down and scream for joy. He’s not there yet, but he’s so close.   He can’t stop now. Not when this is working so well. ***** February 2016 ***** Chapter Notes Graphic and detailed binge scene in this one. Soz it's so short, I don't remember much of February that year. It hasn’t gotten bad yet.   That’s what Luke tells himself every day.   His calories drop lower, some days into the double digits, and he’s weighing himself daily at this point. If he sticks to his diet, he loses a kilo every two days. Something it used to take him two weeks to do.   He’s paying less attention in school. He’s currently sitting in French class, not listening to his teacher drone on about the conjugation of to gain weight.   Funny, isn’t it?   He’s doodling in the margin of his notebook. Stick thin thighs, so small they never touch. Arms you can wrap your entire hand around. Flat chests. He’s caught in an almost unbelievable fantasy. It’s near impossible, but he’s seen people on the site reach it. If they can do it, so can he.   “ Mademoiselle Hemmings?” Luke’s teacher’s voice cuts through his thoughts.   “Excu- er, pardon? ”   “ Comment dit-on ‘she has gained weight’ en Français?”   “Um.” Luke flips the pages of his notebook, looking for something that will help.   “ Maintenant, mademoiselle. ” His teacher shoots him a look that says all too loudly, ‘you were one of my best students, what happened?’   “ Elle a- Elle a acquis? Elle a acquis du poids. ” he finally manages to stumble.   “ Non. ” his teacher says simply. “ Nous avons récemment étudié le verb 'prendre du poids', non? Et la conjugaison correcte de ‘prendre’ est ‘pris’. ”   Luke doesn’t even care that he got the answer wrong, and that’s the part that scares him.   ***   “Lu, mate, are you even listening to me?” Michelle waves a hand in front of Luke’s face.   “Sorry, mate. Lost in my head again.”   Michelle wrinkles her nose. “That’s happening too much. You alright?”   The question sends a jolt through Luke’s stomach. Is he alright?   “Yeah. Completely.” He fakes a smile. “Here’s my turn, see you tomorrow.” he jogs off down his street without so much as a glance back at Michelle.   He fumbles with the key after climbing up the stairs to his house. He hands are shaking, so badly, and he doesn’t know why. He manages to unlock the door and step into the living room, and that’s where it all goes wrong.   At first, everything is normal. He walks to his room, throws his bag down, kicks off his shoes, and goes to the kitchen for a glass of water, ignoring the hunger pains shooting through his stomach.   But today everything combines into the perfect storm and he can’t ignore his hunger any longer. Not when he sees the package of cookies his mum recently bought sitting on the counter, only one or two gone. Cookies are a rare treat in his house, and on his best days before all this he might have managed to walk away only having eaten five or six.   He reaches for the package as if in a trance. He grabs the first cookie. No sin shall pass my lips, he thinks aimlessly.   And he gulps down the first cookie.   The second and third and fourth fifth sixth half the package soon follow before he knows what he’s doing. He tries to stop, half his brain screaming at him, the other half finally quieted by the allowance of food.   Before what he’s done really sinks in, the package is gone.   His mind is shut off at this point. He walks like a zombie to the fridge and pulls out a tub of leftover pasta. Not even bothering to heat it up, he grabs a fork and digs in, shoving forkful after forkful in his mouth and almost moaning at the taste.   The pasta is followed by a package of hastily microwaved frozen pizza bites, two litres of orange juice, half a pot of peanut butter, two granola bars, three spoonfuls of plain sugar, four slices of wholemeal bread, and an apple.   Luke sinks to the floor of the kitchen, the cold wall pressing up against his back as reality slowly comes back to him.   You fucked up you fucked up you fucked up you fucked up!   He practically races to his room and pulls off his school shirt, tie, skirt, and socks until he’s down to his underwear and bra. He steps on the scales, the feeling of food heavy in his stomach.   59kg.   That’s two kilos gained from his 56.8 this morning. Two kilos, four days worth of work, because of one stupid mistake.   He wants to die. He wants to punch himself for being so fucking stupid and giving into temptation. Food is the enemy, and right now, he’s done more than fraternized with the enemy. He’s ruined everything, and all when things were going so well.   He searches for the site, not even bothering to put clothes back on. Create account.  ***** March 2016 ***** Chapter Notes Seems like I'm putting a trigger warning in front of every chapter. Ugh. Soz guys. Anyways, trigger warning for self harm. While February was a month of binges, a month of being stuck at 59 kilos, March will be a month of weight loss. Luke swears to himself that it will.   When he steps on the scales and sees 56.3 flashing back, his heart skips a beat in his chest. That’s the lowest he’s been in years.   He’s managed to lose 7.3 kilos in two months. He should be happy.   Instead he thinks back to his first look at the site, at the girl who swore she could lose 6.8kg in 10 days. He thinks about how he knows he should have lost more, what with half a kilo a day being his average weight loss on good days. He should have lost so much more weight already.   That’s when he decides 500 calories a day is too much. 300 should be good, right? Just a little lower to speed up his weight loss. And he has to stop with the fucking binges.   He logs on to the site and checks his inbox.   kellinmyself: hey, our stats are similar and i saw you post looking for an ana buddy. I’m 14 too, from the us. my sw is 68kg, cw 57.5kg, ugw 44kg. I’m 5’4   He types his response so fast his fingers are a blur.   lukeisapenguin: hi! Yeah, I’ve been looking for a buddy for a while now, someone to keep me on track. Yanno. I’m from Sydney, Australia btw. I know it just says Australia on my profile. What’s the time difference there?   kellinmyself: it’s like a 16 hour difference lol. ur like an entire day ahead of me. it’s march 5th rn here and i know it’s march 6th there   lukeisapenguin: if you don’t mind the time difference I’d love a buddy.   kellinmyself: no it’s all good w me   lukeisapenguin: right then, my current intake just got dropped to 300. What’s yours?   kellinmyself: currently 400 but i’m lowering it to 300 next week   lukeisapenguin: nice, so we’re on the same page about calories.   kellinmyself: yup :p   ***   The next few days are good. He has his new buddy to keep him on track. They report back to each other every day, trading intakes and workouts and stories of close calls with people finding out.   lukeisapenguin: and then my mum reached up, grabbed my arm, felt it, and went, “you’re so skinny!” like a, no I’m not mum, b, shit, and c, she hasn’t seen anything yet.   kellinmyself: omg lucky, i wish someone would notice my weighloss   lukeisapenguin: yeah but it’s my mum! She’s the last person I want to know about this uGH   kellinmyself: stay strong man. u got this ***   Everything is fine, until it isn’t.   Halfway through March he binges again, gaining a kilo. He can’t purge as he’s at school and he knows people will hear. So he marches home in disarray, logging onto the site as soon as he gets in the door.   lukeisapenguin: Kellin I binged send help   kellinmyself: shit man that’s not good. could u purge?   lukeisapenguin: NO THAT’S THE WORST PART   kellinmyself: alright deep breaths. u just have to punish urself rite   lukeisapenguin: punish myself?   kellinmyself: well yeah you broke anas law. don’t eat. like, i burn or cut when i’ve binged and can’t purge. plus u gotta exercise it off. it’ll all b ok if u make it ok   Luke closes his computer and thinks about Kellin’s words. He can exercise it off, no problem. It wasn’t that big of a binge, just a cupcake in celebration of the football team’s latest win. That’s around 400 calories. He can work it off in a few hours.   But the punishment part is what makes him feel uneasy. He knows he deserves it, but he can’t, can he? His eyes are drawn to the pencil sharpener in the corner of his desk. He stares at it, at the glinting blade inside it. He can’t. He won’t. He hasn’t since he was 12, and even then it was only a few times. And he stopped and promised himself he’s never do it again.   He walks into the kitchen, rummages around in a drawer, and grabs a screwdriver. He unscrews the blade from the sharpener, holding the piece of metal in his hand.   He lifts up his shirt slowly, examining the pale, unmarked skin. He looks at the way it bulges over his waistband. Fat, fat, fat.   He places the tip of the blade to his skin and presses in. In one fluid movement, he drags it across his skin, splitting it open.   He gasps at the sting, half not expecting it. He forgot how much it hurt.   You deserve this, fat ass.   The second cut is deeper, blood blooming across his stomach. He smiles at it, glad he finally has physical proof of how much he’s hurting. He grabs a tissue and presses it against the skin, blood soaking through it. It’s bleeding more than he remembers, and the sick part is that he likes it. He likes the blood, the pain. He deserves it.   He settles on five cuts and then pulls his shirt back down, holding the tissue in place.   He deserves it.   ***   His phone rings, and unknown number with an area code announcing it’s in Sydney. He picks it up, slightly wary of who could be calling him.   “Hello?”   “Lucy.” He knows that voice. Oh God, he knows that voice. He hasn’t heard it in three years. Hasn’t heard it since it shouted at him and his mother to “just fucking go!”   He panics. How did his father get his number? How did he know who it was. Why is he contacting Luke. What does he want?   “Go in your room, lock the door, and don’t come out no matter what you hear.”   “Mum…”   “Lucy, I mean it. He’s here. He found out we’re leaving.”   “Lucy, I know it’s you.”   “How did you get my number?”   “I’m your father. It doesn’t matter.”   “I thought you were in Brisbane with Christine.” he spits out the name angrily, naming the woman that tore apart their family.   “We moved to Sydney a while back.”   “So there’s still a ‘we’.”   “Lucy, me and Christy got married. She’s your stepmum now.”   “She’s not my fucking stepmum.”   “Watch your language. We moved to Sydney so I could see you, Lucy.”   And what if I don’t want to see you?   “That’s...nice of you.” The words almost hurt Luke to say. Nothing his father does, or ever has done, is in order to be nice to him.   “So can I see you?”   No, you can’t. You lost that right a long time ago.   “Sure, I guess.”   “Great! I’ll talk to your mother and figure something out.” Andrew sounds excited, too excited. Luke dreads what’s to come.   “K. Gotta go.” Luke hangs up the phone as fast as possible. He can’t breathe. He can’t fucking breathe.   ***   “So my dad called me today.” Luke says over a dinner of salad he convinced his mum to make.   “I know. He called me too.” Liz Hemmings’ shoulders slump. “Are you okay?”   “Yeah.” Luke grimaces. “He wants me to hang out with him. “   “He told me.”   “So should I?”   “That’s your choice, baby. I can’t make you see him.”   “I guess I will then.” everything in Luke’s mind is screaming for him to say the opposite, but he wants to make his dad happy. He still does, after all these years.   He just wants to make everyone happy. ***** April 2016 ***** Chapter Notes yet another trigger warning!!! It’s not until April that he moves on to cutting on his arms, something he hasn’t done for two years.   He’s run out of space on his stomach and it seems like a logical place to cut. It’s not cold yet, but he has a thin jumper he can wear to school that won’t raise suspicions.   It seems like a good idea until his jumper sleeve slips down when he raises his hand in History.   With Ashton sitting directly next to him.   He doesn’t notice his sleeve has slipped down until Ashton elbows him in the ribs. Hard.   “Ow! Mate, the fuck was that?” he whispers.   “I should be asking you that,” Ashton whispers back. “What the everloving fuck is on your arm?”   Shit shit shit. A mixture of guilt and fear shoots through Luke’s stomach. “My--I got scratched,” he says. What a pathetic excuse.   “Multiple times? In straight lines? One above the other?”   Okay, there’s no getting out of this.   “Look, mate, I’m sorry. I was feeling really depressed and it was like one time.” a blatant lie.   “You’re fucking your life up, Lu! You aren’t eating enough and now you’re cutting and it’s just… it’s not okay.”   “I have it under control. I’m just fucking fine, Ash.”   Ashton opens his mouth to say something but their teacher shushes him before he has a chance.   ***   54 kilos.   Luke can’t believe it when he steps on the scales that morning.   54 kilos. That’s ten kilos away from his goal. He could do that in 20 days, maybe a few more. Less than a month.   He looks in the mirror, hoping to see a difference.   Instead he sees the exact same thing he saw at 64 kilos. A bulging stomach, thighs that touch, arms covered in flab. Sure, his legs are starting to seperate, but it’s not enough. He sucks in. There, that’s better. His hipbones stick out and so do his ribs. Add a thigh gap and a flatter chest and he’ll be happy.   Before the end of April he’ll do it. Twenty more days.   ***   “Your father is here.”   Luke looks in the mirror, examining the way his stomach look flat when he pulls his skirt up over the little bump that’s still left on the bottom. His blonde waves fall over his shoulders, disguising the fact that it’s getting thinner. He nervously tugs down the sleeves of his shirt.   He heads down the stairs with dread in his stomach. He hasn’t seen his father in years, what if he hasn’t changed? What if he’s still...no. Luke won’t let himself think about that.   “Lucy!” Andrew sounds like an overgrown schoolboy, full of excitement as he pulls his child into a hug. Luke flinches at the touch but doesn’t pull away. “Thought we’d go out to eat,” he says. “There’s a place in this neighbourhood I’ve been meaning to try.”   No thanks, I haven’t eaten in a day and I wouldn’t want to ruin it.   “Sure.” Luke smiles weakly.   “Mummy, why is dad always sleeping? It’s Christmas Eve,” Luke pouts. “And he’s hardly around anymore.   What Liz wants to say is ‘Lucy, your father is out shooting dope with his whore of a girlfriend that he’s cheating on me with.’   What she actually says is, “Lu, he’s just tired from work. He’ll be up tomorrow.”   Christmas day comes and Andrew Hemmings is nowhere to be found.   “So how’ve you been?” Luke’s father asks. “Tell me everything.”   So dad, I recently started starving myself and throwing up, I’m miserable, flunking classes, and I cut myself when I eat too much, which to me is anything over 500 calories a day.   “Fine.” Luke fixes a fake smile on his face as they walk down the block. “School’s good, a little harder now that I’m in secondary school. I have these great friends, Ashton and Michelle. We hang out all the time, so that’s fun.”   “You fucking bitch! You were going to take my child and leave me!”   “Because you dragged us to Brisbane, Andrew! So you could be with your girlfriend. Well guess what? I’m your wife. I’m the mother of your child. Lucy doesn’t want to be here! I don’t want to be here! We’d rather be back in Sydney, without some doped-up cheater that can’t even provide for his family! You know how much I’ve been working? Lucy is eleven goddamn years old and she’s on her own most of the time! I don’t get to fucking eat so she can! Fuck you. We’re leaving.”   “Like hell you are. Try to leave, and I fucking kill you.”   Luke takes a deep breath, hoping his father doesn’t notice. “How are you?”   “Pretty good, I’ve just been working. Christy and I have a dog I want you to meet. You should come over soon.”   Like hell I will.   “Yeah, definitely.”   The rest of the walk to the restaurant and the meal itself pass in awkward silence, Luke’s mind permanently stuck in 2012.   ***   Luke never means to binge. He doesn’t. But it always happens.   And now he’s standing in the kitchen, shoving week-old barbeque in his face like he hasn’t seen food in days.   Which, of course, he hasn’t.   As he bends over the toilet with fingers down his throat and tears streaming down his face, he wonders when it got this bad.   He has a rule now, 10 cuts for every binge. His arms are starting to get covered, so he moves on to his thighs.   He drags the blade quickly across the pale skin, hissing at the pain he knows so well by this point.   He deserves this.   ***   “Lucy, You haven’t been yourself these last few months. I don’t know what’s going on, I can’t pretend I do, but I’m taking you to a therapist.”   “You’re what ?!” Luke almost shouts. No, I won’t go! I can’t! They’ll tell you, they’ll make me eat!   “Your first appointment is tomorrow. I’m pulling the mum card, which I don’t do often, and saying you’re going. End of story.”   ***   “Lucy, I’m Dr. Mona.” The woman flashes a too-bright smile at Luke. “Can you tell me a little bit about why you’re here?”   “My mum thinks I have a problem.” Luke sinks down deeper into the couch.   “And do you think you do?” Dr. Mona asks.   “No. I mean, yeah, I probably don’t eat enough and sometimes I’ll make myself sick, but it’s just a sort of diet. I’m fat, I need to lose weight.”   “An eating disorder is a diet?” Dr. Mona raises a perfectly-arched eyebrow.   “I don’t have an eating disorder.”   “Well, alright then. Starving yourself is a diet? Making yourself sick is a diet?”   “For me, yeah. I’ve got loads of weight to lose.”   “And how much exactly do you weigh? For medical, of course.”   “55 and a half kilos, as of this morning.”   Dr. Mona makes a note on her clipboard.   “And you’re how tall?”   “5’5-ish.” Another note on the clipboard.   “So you think you’re fat?”   “No, I know I’m fat. Look at me. I’m fucking fat.” Luke pinches his sides, his arms, his thighs. “I need to lose about 11 kilos.”   “So you want to weight 44 kilos, is that correct?”   “Yeah, around there.”   “Do you know that that would give you an underweight bmi?”   Yes, and that’s why I want it. “I don’t care.”   “That dress you’re wearing, may I ask what size it is?”   “Um. A girl’s 10, I think.”   “And you’re 14, yes?”   “What does that have to do with anything?” Now Luke’s getting angry. She asks too many questions.   “I just don’t think a girl of your age who’s fat would be able to fit into clothing that size. You should be in women’s sizes by now.”   “It stretches. And I usually am in women’s. I’m around a 6.”       “That’s not fat, Lucy.”   “Then you’re fucking blind.” Luke spits angrily.   He spends the rest of the session in silence, staring at the wall.   ***** May 2016 ***** Chapter Notes Oh dear. There's rape in this one. I almost has like 2 flashbacks while writing it. Keep yourselves safe xoalex See the end of the chapter for more notes In early May, Luke and his mom head to a dinner with an old friend and her son. As soon as they get to the restaurant, the dinner itself begins, boring and scaring Luke at the same time.   “Hey Ethan, wanna head outside and talk?” Luke says to the other boy. “Too many adults around here.” Any excuse to avoid food.   “Sure.” the younger boy smiles at Luke.   They sit in front of the restaurant, leaning against the front wall.   “Dare you to shout, ‘I’m criminally insane’ at the next passer-by.” Luke says, smiling at the juvenile fun.   “Deal.” Ethan stands up, walking over to a small group of young women near them, clearly out on the town. “Excuse me,” he says, barely able to keep a straight face. “I’d like to announce that I’m cRIMINALLY INSANE!” he finishes the sentence with a shout and walk back over to Luke.   “Dare you to flash me your bra,” Ethan whispers, a grin on his face.   “We’re outside,” Luke protests. “Anyone could see.”   “Isn’t that part of the fun? C’mon, just do it.”   “Fine, but you owe me.” Luke sighs and lifts up his shirt, a black Pierce The Veil one he’d recently bought.   Ethan looks for a second, his eyes fixed on Luke’s chest. Then he reaches out and grabs, squeezing.   Luke’s stomach turns to knots. He’s 14, for Christ’s sake. And Ethan is 13. This is wrong.   “What the fuck, mate?” Luke shoves Ethan’s hands away. “Did I say you could touch?”   Ethan lifts his hands above his head. “My bad, sorry.”   The rest of dinner passes with a dirty feeling deep in Luke’s stomach. A guilty feeling.   The drive back to Ethan’s house passes in near-silence. Ethan and Luke climb the stairs to Ethan’s room as their mums stay downstairs.   Ethan pushes Luke against the wall as soon as his door is shut. “Make a noise and I’ll fucking kill you,” he warns Luke.   “Ethan, what are you--” Luke is cut off by a rough hand over his mouth.   “Shut up.” Ethan has a wild look in his eyes and Luke swallows hard, knowing exactly what comes next. Ethan wouldn’t do that. He couldn’t, he’s known Luke since they were babies. He won’t. He won’t. He wo--   Luke feels his shirt being tugged up. It’s almost gentle, far too soft for the horrible act taking place. Ethan unbuckles his bra, discarding it somewhere unknown.   Ethan drags him to the bed wordlessly, shoving him back onto it. Luke barely winces. The pain is nothing more than a dull throb at this point. Everything is fading out. It’s almost like falling asleep- Luke’s head falls to one side, his eyes fixed on a blank spot on the wall. He doesn’t feel Ethan pulling his pants off, doesn’t hear him unbuckling his own, doesn’t feel Ethan pushing his legs apart, doesn’t feel him heavy and rough on top of him.   Or at least he wishes he doesn’t.   It hurts, it hurts so bad, it’s like being ripped apart, and all Luke wants to do is sob, break down, push Ethan off him.   He can’t. He can’t move, he can’t do anything but stare.   “You like this, don’t you? Show me you like it, you fucking slut.”   Luke couldn’t if he wanted to. He knows the danger of ignoring Ethan’s commands, he knows what will come of not doing what he wants, but he can’t physically bring himself to do anything other than stare. It’s a chore to even breathe or blink or swallow the bile rising again and again in his throat.   He braces his neck against the first hit. It’s directly above his eye, a sickening blow to his brow bone.   It does nothing. He doesn’t move.   “This isn’t good, Luke, I shouldn’t have to do this to get what I want. I don’t like doing this to you, you know. I only do it because I have to.”   He’s right. I need to be better.   He wants to be better. He wants to give Ethan what he wants, wants to ignore the excruciating pain and act like he enjoys it.   I must enjoy it, some part of me must. He made me come like this. I wouldn’t have if I didn’t like it.   Luke wants so badly for his mind to shut up. He wants everything to stop, he wants to leave, he wants to disappear.   He wants to die.   Instead he continues to stare at the wall as he takes hit after hit, insults he’s heard a thousand times.   It’s not white. It’s gray. Luke never paid much attention to the color of Ethan’s walls. He never noticed the way the too-bright lights washed out the gray, but underneath it was still gray.   He’s lost track of time now. After what feels like hours Ethan finishes with a grunt, rolling off of Luke.   Luke feels something drip down his legs, warm and sticky. He didn’t use a condom.   Luke wants to be sick. Lord only knows how many people Ethan’s been with, what he could’ve caught, what he could’ve just given Luke.   He didn’t use a condom.   He hears the click of a polaroid. Ethan shakes the picture, handing it to Luke. “Here you go, baby. See how pretty you look all used up for me.”   Luke stares at the picture, barely taking it in. He’s naked, completely naked, his face red, tears streaked down his cheeks. His hipbones stick out a mile against his pale skin, covered in bruises from where Ethan’s grip was too rough. His legs are spread, his head lolled to one side.   “Clean yourself up. You’ve gotta go home soon.” Ethan spits, pulling his own pants on.   Luke wipes himself off with a tissue from Ethan’s nightstand and pulls on his clothes in silence. The feeling in his stomach is now magnified a thousand times. He feels so close to getting sick everywhere. This can’t have happened. It wouldn’t, not to him, not by Ethan.   He tucks the polaroid in his jeans and walks downstairs on shaky legs, every step sending pain through his lower back.   The car ride is silent. Luke fixes an indifferent look on his face, staring dead ahead. His mum can’t know. No one can.   ***   It’s that night that he has his first attempt. It’s not even really intentional, he just wants to die, he wants to fucking die.   He rummages around in the medicine cabinet, angry when he only finds cough syrup and melatonin. Nothing he could OD on.   So he settles for sitting in the bathtub, door locked, twirling a razor blade between his fingers.   Suddenly he slices, deeper than he ever has before, right near his veins. It hurts, it hurts so bad and there’s so much blood but that’s what he wanted.   When he wakes up the next morning, dried blood caking his arms, he curses the day he was born. Chapter End Notes the more comments I get, the quicker you all get the next chapter. Thanks so much for reading ***** June 2016 ***** “Mich, we always said we’d be 100 percent honest with each other, right?” “Ever since the tent, yeah.” “We have to be totally honest with each other from now on. Promise.” “After this I think it’s a requirement.” Luke laughs. “We’ve basically told each other all our deepest, darkest secrets.” There’s a pause, silence hovering in the small pop-up tent. “I’ve got two more secrets,” Luke admits. “One I’ll never tell. The other is I really wanna kiss someone in here right now.” Ashton gasps. “Who, Lucy?” “Can’t say. I don’t want to ruin the friendship.” “I know exactly what you’re talking about,” Michelle admits. “I kinda feel the same way.” “Well, there’s something I haven’t told you. It happened a few weeks ago, and I haven’t told anyone. I can’t tell anyone, and if I tell you, neither can you. Promise me.” “Jesus, Lu, stop acting like you killed someone. What is it?” “Promise me!” Luke is surprised at how harsh his whisper comes out. Michelle looks taken aback. “Okay. I swear on our friendship.” “Like I said, it was a few weeks ago. And I was with Ethan. Yanno, that guy I’ve been friends with since forever?” Luke pauses, the disgusted feeling returning to his stomach. “We, I mean he...I, kinda,” he doesn’t know how to say it. “Oh my god, did you have sex?” Michelle almost yells. “Shut up, first of all! Do you want my mum to wake up?” Luke asks. “Second, I mean, yeah. I guess. The thing is, I didn’t really say no, but I didn’t really say yes either.” “Wait.” Michelle’s tone is somber. “Are you saying… Oh god, Lu, did he rape you?” “No. No! It’s not like that. It was my fault for not saying no.” Suddenly Michelle’s hands are on his back, rubbing small circles. “No, it isn’t, I promise it isn’t,” she says as tears begin to fall down Luke’s face. Luke feels like throwing up. No matter how many showers he’s taken, he still feels dirty. He still feels Ethan’s hands on him every time his mind flashes back to that night. Which lately, has been a lot. Luke sniffles. “I’m sorry I’m such a mess.” “You’re not a mess, Lu. There’s just some bad things going on in your life right now. We all have those things.” “I’m a mess.” “Okay, a little, but aren’t we all? I’m a bit off a mess. We know Ashton’s got problems.” Luke wipes his face on the back of his hand. “Ashton’s fucking perfect. Perfect grades, perfect manners, perfect everything.” “I promise you, Ashton is not perfect. I’m telling you this in complete confidence because you need to know. But you know Mrs. Irwin isn’t Ashton’s real mum, right?” “Yeah. He told me.” “Well apparently she’s terrible behind the scenes. Her and Ashton’s dad fight all the time, she expects nothing but perfect from Ashton, Lauren, and Harry, and she hits them if they’re not.” “Oh my God. I had no idea.” “Neither did I until Ashton told me. But my point is, everyone has problems. You’re not alone, Lu, you’re not alone.” Yes I am. *** Luke and Laura met in kindergarten. When they went to different secondary schools a few years ago, they fell out of touch. All Luke knew was now, Laura smoked a lot and her mum let her do whatever she wanted. Luke decided if there was ever a time to get drunk, or high, or both, now was it. He texts Laura, deciding she’s probably his best bet. Hey I know it’s been a while but can we hang out? Laura responds almost immediately. sure. whenever you want And just like that he’s on a bus headed to her house. He leaves with a quick “Mum I’m going out!”. Like she cares what he does, she’s too busy. *** “So why after all this time?” “Honestly?” Luke plays with his hands. “I need something. I know that makes me a bit of a dick, but I need to get drunk. I need to forget.” “Really?” Laura looks surprised. “Weren't you all anti-alcohol because of your parents?” “Times change.” Laura simply raises an eyebrow and leads Luke into the kitchen. She pulls down a bright green bottle from the top shelf. “Drink up,” she says. “My mum gets home in two hours so we'll have to shut ourselves in my room then.” Luke takes the top off the bottle. He hesitates for a moment, questioning if he's really going to do this after all the trouble his parents have had with alcohol. Fuck it. He drinks, the stuff burning jus throat. He wants to cough and spit it out, but he forces himself to swallow and take another sip. Then another, then another until Laura tells him to stop. “That’s like ten shots worth, Lucy. Time to stop.” He follows Laura into her crowded, messy bedroom. She pulls out a joint and lights up, collapsing on the bed. Luke follows, his head swimming. The stuff is starting to kick in. They pass the joint back and forth, taking long inhales and staring at the wall. Before Luke knows what's happening Laura is on top of him, kissing him. “I've wanted to do this for a long time.” Luke doesn't answer. He's too drunk to care what's happening. She's kissing him again, biting at his bottom lip. He parts his lips slightly, allowing her tongue entrance into his mouth. She does all the work while he lies there like a rag doll. “Fuck me.” He doesn't know why or how the words come from his mouth, but they do. He wants it, he knows he does, but maybe that's the vodka talking. He doesn't care at this point. Everything has already been ruined. He's already been ruined. What does it matter? She's pulling down his shorts now, pooling them around his ankles. She grins and dips down between his legs. He doesn't care anymore. *** He wakes up with a headache. He's lying half naked on the bare corner of Laura's mattress and his mouth tastes disgusting. He pulls on his discarded shorts, shoves his phone in his pocket, and leaves without so much as a goodbye. Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed their work!