elliot monaghan / d12 (done)

The smile doesn't reach the whites of his eyes.

Breathlessly speaking to everyone and no one with those straight teeth and mindless tongue. The breath of lack luster filling the brim of his insides, boiling over through his brain, frying him inside out with frustration. None of these people mattered. Not a single soul standing around the bowl of punch, clearly spiked, with words on their lips trying to stay joyful in an empty sky of black, holding onto the glittering stars of a vast night. He's been holding the same cup for an hour now, swirling the red over and over again. They didn't understand the sea of chaos, where he never truly fit in with the community.

Instead, he bleeds words on his tongue, over exaggerates the personality upon his skin. Not a seam kid. Not a merchant kid. Somewhere in-between the two, never exact alone, but never exactly there. A laugh escapes his throat, reaching his own ears in the fake way he can force it out. No, these were not his people. The merchant kids throwing a party with music, food, and enough riches to feed seven Seam families.

No, he wasn't here for food or the alcohol. The girl in front of him smiles back with the whites of her eyes, the light blush upon her cheeks he's seen time and time again. Hand against his elbow when another girl comes too close for her liking. Eyes roam away from her for a moment, as the sky above glitters with the stars. Eli lays the words on thick with the smile of his father and the laugh of his mother. The red blush grows deeper as the night progresses, breathless signs of more to come appearing by the second. Shining there just as long as the constellations in the night sky.

Faking his feelings all the way to the empty room, where she dances for him under the moonlight. Their words disappearing in the air of the night as the moon glistens back at them. The smile doesn't reach the whites of his eyes still, but he gives in to his desires. Letting the moon fall across the horizon, until morning where he sneaks out through a window, sunlight reaching sheets and disheveled hair.

No strings tying him to that room, where he lets his shame sleep.

Her eyes will linger in empty sheets, wishing he had stayed. She'll search for him amidst the crowds of Twelve, but he'll be nothing more than a ghost by then. Eli will be in a home with a sea of siblings, where secrets linger in generations so deep down. Secrets; he'll never dig them up. No reason for him to question the switch of a Seam family climbing out of the financial hole of District Twelve. The silence of morning in the Monaghan home was always appreciated. That time where he lingers in the lounge chair, under the morning sun, basking in the appreciative glow of something real. Something constant.

Noah is the first one up, with quiet steps and muted lips. Lost in their sea of Monaghans, she's never stuck out. Never strayed from the beaten path. Only ever speaking in small words, the silence of her in the area around them like an aura of mist. Noah would be considered quiet if no one paid attention to her, but he could see past those irises at the noise ringing around. The loudest of them all, telling her to choke on the words below her lips. A friendly smile to his sister, with that desperate plea for her to not push with those ever growing animated eyes of hers.

Instead, Eli lets his breath come out in a deep breath of morning air. The memories of school, life, and childhood filling his head. Never a quiet one, he speaks the loudest of all his siblings, voice laced with a poison to the ears. Ever joking about anything and nothing, always easier to hide emotions behind a mask of happiness. Early childhood had been easy, so easy in fact that Elliot Monaghan was the best. Perfect to everyone who saw him. Easy smiles and truthful happiness, but something happened. Something that none of them understood.

The easy smiles and truly happy times turned sour with kids tormenting him. Seam or Merchant? Neither and both. They ripped him from streets into alleys, kicking and hitting him until the bruises turned black and blood rippled red. Weak. They would shout to him. Pathetic. They'd shriek. Over and over again, until those smiles turned in on itself. Empty, hollow, and hidden from his big family. Years, he spent afraid of what would happen. Afraid to see what'll happen to his family if he spoke up or fought.

They shouted words at him until he believed the venom on their tongues. Believing it to the core of his being, where he spent nights tearfully sobbing in his pillow, praying to a nonexistent god to make things better. To make him better than them. And every night, all that would come back were the empty words of space. He believed them for years and years, until finally, he broke.

Violence coming in the form of bruised knuckles and pitiful words. The same bullets shot at him being thrown back with twice the power. Anger in his veins cracking with the noses of the assholes who changed him. Buried the happy kid in a grave, deep enough to be swallowed up by the center of the earth. Fists became the answer for so long, until they stopped. Until the words still fill his head, but they disappeared with friendly smiles and masks to hide how they feel. Arms slung across his shoulders as if he were one of them.

As if, he didn't hear their words hollow out his skull.

Later years of school were easier. Nights filled with lust filled desires and broken hearts. People became an escape, whispering the kind nothings into his ears as he lets himself feel happy for just a night. An ego growing with every notch on his bedpost, where men and women continue to go. A fake smile practiced over and over again with precision. Family had become more and more important by the day. His sisters and brothers growing older and older, staring up at him as a guide.

A guide who didn't know what path was ever the right one.

He would get them lost in this forest of life.

The smile doesn't reach the whites of his eyes as he lazily waits in the lounge chair. The sun's come up with the burning heat of sunlight and rays soaking into his skin. A feeling of ease among the Monaghan house for just a moment. The silence was unusual for him to get. No time to linger on empty thoughts and past generations. Instead, the now was waiting for them. Sooner or later, he'd have to rise from the lounge chair, pretend to happily chat with his siblings, fake his way through breakfast, and head to school.

Eli would have to tell of his exploits with the fragile masculinity of the guys at his school who weren't working in the mines. Someone would find him on his way to lunch, pull him into a closet where they'd make out until lunch almost ended. He'd leave them broken in that closet with a wink and tongue in his cheek. Feet would take him to the guy who commented on his sister at the party the night before. Fists would break his nose, until he felt better about himself. A girl would invite him to a party and he'd start the cycle over and over again.

Eyes close as the sun rises, someone would wake him.

For now, he would rest.