bombard the barrier | {briar}
Jul 23, 2015 23:11:19 GMT -5
Post by gamemaker 💀 hades lochlan on Jul 23, 2015 23:11:19 GMT -5
. DUSTYN .
fallin' for a stranger, a player
singin' "i l o v e you"
Three years ago, he was a boy untouched by liquor and knew only love for her, as he always had. As he always would.
"What if we..."
"Don't, Dustyn. Please."
"Okay."
Three years ago, he was a boy who seemed to love the feel of a stomped on heart, but a boy who could still feel it beating within him. That changed. A part of it stopped when he saw Tiger's head rolling in the sand, stopping at Gavin Barker's weeping form. Part of it died when he saw the pain -- the real, visible, tangible pain Bette bled. A part of it died when they were all each other had, and still he was not good enough for her.
Now, he had no heart to worry about getting broken and the taste of spirits was all too familiar. It was sad, but he was becoming a professional at a rapid pace. And it wasn't just sad because he had once been such a bright, cheerful boy with hope to hold onto and dreams to achieve, but sad because he no longer was. Sad because Dustyn Chase was now someone who made questionable decision after questionable decision.
Like avoiding the girl he had loved for a lifetime, which was hard to do at home since she lived right next door to him, so he stayed gone. There were times he would see her: walking to school in the mornings, at lunch every day. She was always alone, of course, as as he. The difference was, she was not content with loneliness. It was a new thing for her, and Dustyn already had years of experience. Perhaps the most notable thing he did, though, was not keeping his distance from her, but lessening his distance from old flames and friendships.
Roxanne Decker, for instance, brought him to his first party. He had only kissed her, though he was sure more would have happened if his conscious hadn't kicked in. He wasn't drunk enough. So, he decided, in the future he would be.
This time, however, he found himself stumbling away from his own neighborhood until he stopped in front of a doorstep he did not belong at. (Then again, did he belong anywhere anymore?) Juliet Beaumont had been one of the many friends he had growing up. Which means, like the rest of them, he turned her away over time because he wanted to execute any ideas that he would ever be unfaithful to his precious Bette. He made decisions and at the time they were glorious and made perfect sense. Now?
"dumdumdumdum" the door cried against his fist.
He knew she didn't have the best relationship with her parents. Most careers didn't. Dustyn was not a typical career. He did not see the games as a lifestyle, but as a side-job, something to get to when he had the time. His parents saw them that way, too. Or they used to until his little brother had arrived and shown so much promise.
He waited a few seconds and when no one came to the door, he realized it was probably because it was in the middle of the night. And if he woke her parents up, it would be her ass that was in trouble. So, instead of knocking oncemore, he did a trick he'd done time after time after time with Bette: he scaled a wall and sat perched outside Juliet Beaumont's window. It was considerably harder to do while toting a half-empty bottle of vodka and still tasting the other half in his mouth, but he managed. He tapped the window thrice with his index finger and squinted his eyes to see if she would come out.
"Jules?" he asked in a hushed whisper. "Jules!"
