Chapter Text
I don’t know how I ended up at one of Bruce Yamada’s parties because other than my 2 friends, nobody likes me. In fact, not only did everybody despise me but they were also terrified of me.
I trudged down the unknown hallway with random teens cowering to either side to make way for me. I needed to get out of this humid place filled with drunk assholes too indulged in making out with people they couldn’t care less about. As much as I was an asshole, I didn’t make people think I liked them and I knew how much of an asshole I was.
I finally found the door to his backyard which, to my surprise, only had 4 people making out in the pool and 2 people smoking by the basketball hoop. One of those smoking was Bruce Yamada himself.
Everybody was so shocked when they found out Bruce Yamada smoked. But since his parents split up he’s done a lot of crazy things, he drinks, smokes, his grades have been dropping by quite a bit but he’s still a sweet kid so he’s got that going.
The aroma of the air killing smoke made me want to smoke myself to, I approached the 2 people watching as the 1 cowered back, throwing his cigarette to the floor and walking away and the other boy (Bruce) just look up at me.
“You got a smoke?” I asked, trying to sound threatening but I had no motivation whatsoever.
“Maybe I do, Vance Hopper, what’s it to you?” Bruce asked smugly.
“Give me one.” I threatened, this time sounding so much more aggressive.
“What’s the magic word?” He smirked.
“Fuck you, Bruce Yamada.” I said raising a fist but he silently gave me a cigarette and walked away.
He’s so fucking lucky I have a light.
I took out an old lighter I stole from the Grab n Go but when I looked down at the cigarette it had a number written on it.
I contemplated for a minute.
Have the smoke I had been itching for or have Bruce Yamada’s number.
I had no interest in the boy at all but he intrigued me. He seemed to be the only person in the whole of Denver that didn’t fear me.
I pocketed the cig and left that shit show.
I had no reason to have been there in the first place. But on my way out, I was stopped.
I got ready to throw a punch but when I turned around and was faced with a very happy Bruce Yamada I unclenched my fist.
“What do you want?” I groaned.
“Did you smoke it?” He whispered.
Although I could barely hear him, I saw the sadness in his eyes.
“Yeah, why?” I decided to scare him, test his true intentions. So I raised an eyebrow and looked deep into his brown eyes.
“Oh…” He looked down then back up, “It had my number on it.” Bruce winced, scared for the response he was going to get but he needed to find out if I just didn’t notice the number or didn’t give a shit.
“I know, but why the fuck would I want your number, Bruce Yamada?” I laughed slightly.
“Mh, why wouldn’t you? I mean nobody else is gonna give you their number.” Now it was Bruce’s turn to raise an eyebrow.
Before I could even think I punched him, clean in the face. Shit. I didn’t mean to take it that far but my anger was pulsing.
He fell to the floor and I rushed to his side, raising my fist again.
“The fuck did you say!” I growled.
The whole party was taken aback and somewhat terrified but nobody else ran to Bruce. That showed that people really couldn’t give a fuck about anybody, no matter how nice they are.
His nose was bleeding a lot and his lip was busted but nevertheless he began laughing.
“I-I’m sorry.” I sighed, realising I may have ruined the only kindness I had towards me.
“It’s fine, I saw you put it in your pocket by the way.” He whispered.
He was almost knocked out by the looks, and sounds, of it but he still had that snarky tone that made me punch him in the first place.
“Your one annoying bitch Bruce Yamada.” I scoffed.
“It’s just Bruce, yknow?” He said softly, the party had gone back to its crazy self so I couldn’t really hear him.
“Huh?” I shouted.
“You keep calling me by my full name!“ He said louder.
“Oh…Yeah right, just Bruce” I said knowingly, I couldn’t be fucked to give him attitude, he seems to thrive on it.
“Mhm, just Bruce.” I confirmed.
“Yep..” He said, popping the ‘p.’ 🤪
Awkward silence.
“Can you help me up?” Bruce laughed awkwardly.
“Oh shit, sorry about you face.” I said, getting up and grabbing his hand.
“Mm, you’ve done worse to be fair.” He grunted as I pulled him up.
“So I’m gonna go…” I said, backing up out of the door.
“Yeah, call me.” He smiled and slammed the door.
I was so confused, like so confused but I just kept walking and walking. Endlessly. It got to a point I didn’t know where I was. That didn’t stop me.
I ended up at some forest, I knew where I was just not where to go but I was too drunk to care.
I sat down, leaning my back on a tree, spacing out when a figure approached me.
“I never walk around alone after dark, somebody could come up behind you, snap your neck, yknow?” Bruce Yamada speaks from the shadows.
What the fuck.
“Your walking alone right now?” I scoff.
“Nope,” He once again we popped the ‘p’ 😜 “I’m technically walking with you.”
“You followed me?” I said, getting angry.
“Oh fuck me for caring so much.” He rolls his eyes and sits next to me.
“Yeah fuck you.” I smirk sarcastically.
“What are you doing here though?” He raised an eyebrow.
“Don’t know, got lost, I guess.” I shrugged.
“Want me to walk you home?” He chuckled and leaned his head onto the tree, taking a puff of a cigarette I had taken no regard to in the beginning
“No..I’m okay here, not like your even stable enough to find your way” I sigh, laying down.
“If you say so.” Bruce shrugs, laughing next to me.
“What are you doing?” I muttered through my headache.
“Smoking?” He said back, snarkier.
“No I mean-“ I began.
“I know what you mean dipshit.” He laughed.
“The fuck did you call me?” I said, getting up and getting loud.
“Can you add my number now?” Bruce asked, shifting the conversation.
“Oh, If it’ll keep your dick in your pants I guess I can.” I groaned, pulling out my phone and the cigarette- well the remains of the destroyed thing.
“Here, I’ll type it.” Bruce grinned, grabbing my phone from my hands.
“Dickhead.” I mumbled.
“Unless you don’t want my number?” Bruce looked up, mid typing.
“I don’t think I do,” I said back with a annoyed tone
“Then why’d you pocket the cig?” He asked, rhetorically, going back to typing.
I would have answered that question but I didn’t have an answer. I had no reason to have taken the cigarette in the first place.
“Done.” He said, handing me my phone back.
I then gave him mine, for good measures,
I don’t message first.
“What am I even meant to do with it?” I ask, nonchalantly.
“Hmm?” Bruce looked up from the ground.
“With your number? What the hell am I supposed to do with it, we aren’t friends, we aren’t interested in any of the same shit.”
“I’d like to think we are friends, we’re sat in the middle of fuck knows where exchanging numbers.” Bruce laughs.
I just roll my eyes.
“I’m sure we have some stuff in common.” Bruce finally attempts to make some sort of conversation.
“Your a perfect, pretty fucking princess and I’m an aggressive, hated fucking failure. Sound like we have anything in common, genius?” I sneered.
“Correction, I used to be a perfect, pret- Pretty?” Bruce cuts himself off, getting red.
“Oh come on all the ladies love you.” I roll my eyes.
“Whatever,” He whispers, “Anyway, I used to be a perfect kid but now I’m just a miserable fucking failure who’s disappointing everybody.” He placed his head into his hands and sighed.
“At least your still pretty, you got that going for you, I have nothing.” I huffed.
“Thanks.” Bruce said not flatly but not like he believed me.
We laid in a comfortable silence until I felt my eyelids become heavier then darkness swarm my vision.