Yo, yo, my dudes, what's poppin'? (I hate myself, I'm sorry)
To answer a question I have received, I will say that yes, Keith will actually talk later in the series BUT it's gonna be real important and angsty (honhonhon).
A response to rainbowrider1290: Thank you very much for the kind words! And yes, I am doing very well actually :) I happen to base some of these experiences on my own, but for others I research them persistently. But for all of you who have worries, I am doing great! Haha and yeah, my summer classes are coming up to my neck but I'm getting used to the schedule ;) Thank you so very much.
BUT SERIOUSLY: LISTEN UP KIDS. I have an amino account where I was posting these chapters, but I made cover art for them. SO GO LOOK AT IT. It's right here: /c/voltron-legendary-defenders/page/blog/photoshop-covers-all-i-need/bo1V_LdIouBWzM6Vb8Z0xpWzLNgQ813JKv just for you. *shamelessly self-promotes*
Also- I'm sorry that I've had two chapters in a row that start with Lance's POV, but that's the way it turned out so like_(ツ)/
XXXXX
DISCLAIMER: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS DISCUSSIONS AND DESCRIPTIONS OF PHYSICAL ABUSE, DEPRESSION, SELF-HARM, AND BULLYING. IF YOU ARE SENSITIVE TO THESE TOPICS, DO NOT READ THIS CHAPTER.
XXXXX
Lance lifted up his dirtied jersey in front of the mirror, the locker room devoid of any prying eyes or gossiping mouths. He always managed to either smooth-talk his way out of questions- that or bully his way though them. It was better that way. He would rather be seen as a jerk than as some abused kid who couldn't stand up against his own parents.
So he waited until the room was empty and got the locker room to himself. That way nobody could see the bruises or the scars that were very obviously from years of physical beatings. It wasn't something that he could pass off from football, either. He was literally covered in the dark purple-ish green bruises.
Lance pulled his jersey up a little further, tucking it under his chin to inspect the damage. The previous night had been particularly brutal...
The teen traced the outline of the biggest bruise with his long fingers gently, feeling around the tight, swollen skin. It sat atop his ribs painfully and he was positive that the bruise extended all the way through the bone. It didn't hurt to breathe though, so nothing was cracked or broken. He would have had to find an excuse out of practice if that were the case. He extended his fingers along the surface of his chest and stomach, gently touching each and every one of the marks. He counted in his head, a total that went up to twelve, not including his back. He wasn't sure if he even wanted to see that bit, the part where he took most of the blows. So instead he caught his own eyes in the grimy mirror reflection.
He was disgusted.
Maybe, somehow, if he was a better person, none of this would have happened to him.
Maybe if he were a better person, his parents wouldn't be addicted to alcohol.
Maybe if he were a better person, his family would have more money.
This was all his fault. Lance poked and prodded his bruised ribs a bit more forcefully until he winced from the pain of it. All his fault. He pushed even harder.
Maybe he deserved it.
Who knows.
The one thing he did know, though, was that he didn't want to go home. He didn't want to be around people. Well, the big part of him didn't. The other part ached for it so badly that it made his head spin. Most of him just wanted to bask in the depression and self-hate until there was nothing left. The pessimism flew around his mind and entangled itself in his thoughts until there was nothing left uncorrupted. It was a constant stream of 'you're nothing's and 'just disappear's.
Maybe I should run away.
God, I hate myself.
I wish I was better than this.
Why can't I just-
The teen's eye caught movement in the mirror, shock cutting the stream of thoughts off completely.
Dammit!
Lance yanked his shirt down so fast he was sure that he had torn it, but he didn't care in the slightest. Panic flooded his chest as he whipped around, desperate to know if someone had seen him, seen his bruises, seen his brokenness. There was a figure huddled in the doorway, tall, wide-eyed, and dark-haired. Lance recognized him as that deaf kid he had ran into in the hallway earlier that day.
How much did he see?!
Lance made eye contact with the kid, glaring him down, putting on his mask. Before he raven-haired boy even had a chance to run, Lance had him by the collar, shoving him up against the wall. "What did you see?!" Lance yelled into his face, pushing him even harder into the bricks. The boy resisted the grip with one hand and pulled a notebook from his pocket with the other, frantically shoving it towards the taller teen. Lance dropped one arm and took the notebook, all but snarling. Onehandedly, he took the pen from the side of the book and scribbled an angry message on it, holding it up for the deaf kid to see.
'Did you see?'
The kid shook his head violently and put one finger up to his lips. His actions clearly said 'I won't tell.'
He knew.
He knew.
He knew!
The sheer shock made his grip loosen very slightly, but it was enough for Keith to seize the opportunity and break free. His converse squeaked against the tile as he turned and hurtled out the door, running at full speed. The boy was gone before Lance could process what happened.
XXXXX
Keith was pissed off, to say the least. He was beyond pissed off. He would have rather punched that stupid guy's face in than run like a coward.
But something about seeing the bruises on the guy made his stomach turn. It made him feel some sort of soft something in his chest that he definitely didn't want to feel towards that asshole.
He tried to talk himself out of it.
Lance didn't deserve his rare sympathy. In fact, he was probably the least qualified. The 'jock' beat up kids and stole and lied and cheated. If anything, he deserved nothing but pure hatred.
But what if there was a reason he was acting like a bully? There was. Keith now knew exactly why Lance was constantly being a douche. Maybe he should do something?
Keith stopped where he was on the sidewalk, halfway home. The teen shook his head as if to rid of the thought. That was none of his business, not in the slightest. It would end badly if he stuck his nose into it, he knew. Lance had also made it very very clear that he wanted the whole thing to be kept a secret from the student body. And what if the markings had come from something else? Keith continued his route. He knew that there was no way those bruises and scars came from anything other than abuse. Of what kind, he wasn't sure. The teen guessed that it was probably his parents or guardian or something of the sort.
Not that it mattered.
Because didn't.
Keith found himself already at his front door, too involved in his thoughts to notice his surroundings. He shoved his key in the lock and let himself in, kicking the door shut behind him. He manuvered through the house until he stood in front of his precious piano. He didn't touch it for a while, he just stared.
It made him so mad sometimes.
He couldn't hear the beautiful notes anymore.
Keith almost would have preferred blindness. It was possible to play piano while blind, from muscle memory and hand-key distance coordination. That way he could play and hear it. He would give anything to hear it again.
Angrily, he pulled the bench out and flipped open the key lid. Immediately, he started to pound out Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata in the Third Movement. It wasn't the calm sonata, it was the insane, passionate one. Even though they shared the same name, they were polar opposites.
Keith loved it.
As the song went on, he pounded on the keys, harder and harder until his fingers hurt. It was a naturally intense song that was meant to be played loudly, but even the quiet parts he played as if they were enraged.
Up, down, up, down, up, down, BAM BAM!
Up, down, up, down, up, down, BAM BAM!
He continued to play, his hands aching. If he could hear correctly he knew his ears would be ringing from the force of the notes.
He didn't understand why he was like this.
He didn't understand why the most precious thing was taken away from him.
He didn't understand!
BAM, BAM!
He was enraged about that jerk beating on him when he didn't do anything.
BAM, BAM!
The emotion poured off of him in boiling waves, washing over the piano and the sound of the notes he could no longer hear.
Why was his life such a constant shitstorm?
BAM, BAM!
He hit the keys so hard he felt them vibrate under his fingers. Keith could practically hear the strings straining and crying out, could practically hear the piano's silent pleading for the gentle touch it deserved. His hands froze immediately, guilty.
What was he doing?
What was he doing?
The only thing he had left was his piano. That was the only thing. And what was he doing with it?
He was abusing it.
"I'm sorry," Keith whispered, pulling his hands back. He only spoke to his piano. It was really the only thing that deserved such a gratitude. "I'm sorry."
Guilt burrowed in his throat as all of his anger dissipated. He brushed his fingers along the length of the keys, apologising. Asking for forgiveness.
The piano accepted.
It always did.
He brought his hands back and resumed the song, rage completely gone.
XXXXX
Yo so like I know there's no graphic self-harm in this, but idk if some people would be triggered by Lance poking his bruises purposefully. Better be safe than sorry, though.
A message to everyone who has read and/or supported this story so far: thank you so so much. Even though my updates are inconsistent and some chapters are short and choppy, you still continue to support me. I never thought people would enjoy and stay with this story, and it's blowing my mind how much people seem to like this. I can't even say how much your support means to me. Thank you so much. I've gone farther than I ever thought I would go because of each of you. Thank you.
ANNOUNCEMENT: I am going to be making these chapters shorter so there's less of a wait in between them. I usually try to get over 2k per chapter with my stories, but I don't have the time for that at the moment. So, hopefully, these will be coming out faster. My apologies for the shortness.
For those of you who are wondering when/if Shiro is going to come into play, all I can say is he will appear in the near future (thank ImThatAcroBat for that).
Have a lovely day!