They’re in the car, on the way to the airport, and the silence is twisting between them, overgrown and horrible and altogether crushing to endure. Because this time, they’re not going off together. It’s not like they’re leaving for tour, off to New York or Florida or wherever it’s starting. Mom and Dad and Frankie and Kevin and the dozens of other
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Here's a little preview: (But I'm still not telling which prompt(s) I'm using)
Nicholas hates the feeling of anger building in his stomach, burning and twisted and hideous, and as he stands in front of the bathroom mirror, fingers curled under and digging painfully into the marble counter top, he can’t hide the grimace that spoils his cherubic features with fury. It’s an expression filled with hate, and as he stares at himself in the glass, he as a sudden, consuming urge to destroy something. His hands curl further into fists, and the sting of self-loathing bubbles in his throat in a frustrated shout. His body jolts forward with tension as he swings one of his balled up hands at the mirror. He sighs in acute relief as he feels the glass cut into his knuckles, feels it slice to the bone, feels the blood begin to run into his opening palm. He turns and sinks into the pile of broken glass, a strangled sob ripping its way from his throat.
It’s this business, this fucking Disney machine that has him so sick with disgust for himself. He grabs fistfuls of his own hair, pulling until it really hurts, and he feels his body begin to shake with the force of his tears. He doesn’t want to be mocked, doesn’t want to be admired, doesn’t want to be anything but just…Nick. The biting teenage angst swelling inside him is bitter and resentful, and he wants nothing to do with the life that he’s leading.
The sound of hurried footsteps and a shout of his name break his seething reverie and bring him back to reality.
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Maybe, I might be over excited, but will not be too terribly sad if you are just totally toying with me.
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