Wednesday, midday

     After barging out his mother's home on Sunday, Frey had only once gone back to retrieve more clothes, and all the stuff he needed to go to school. His father had written him a note to hand to teachers, to explain the fact he wasn't carrying any of his books or notes on Monday. But since Frey's reputation wasn't all that well in school, he still got scowled at for it.

Still, since his father had called the principal on Monday morning to explain the situation, he hadn't gotten in trouble for it.

Now, it was Wednesday, and Frey only slightly felt better since he had escaped his mother's suffocating grip on his life.

There was still a lot of turmoil in his mind, and he only knew of two ways to feel better for a while; get drunk or have sex.

Since neither was a possibility during school, he needed to plan ahead. Tonight, his father would be at home—since he didn't want to leave Frey on his own yet because the boy was a mess—so he needed to make sure his father would go to the club on Thursday and stop watching him as much as he did now.

He had talked to the girl—Vicky—on Sparkl none-stop since Monday, after apologizing for ignoring her for the rest of Sunday. He had simply felt too aggravated to talk to her after his fight with his mother.

Besides, he didn't want to act all depressed around her, so he needed the time to collect himself and pretend to be the charming guy he knew he could be.

She fell for it, fast.

They had been flirting none-stop and Frey couldn't fight an occasional smile whenever she sent him a message.

They seemed to have a lot in common. A lot more than he had in common with 99% of the girls he hit on.

But each and every of their conversations had taken a twist since yesterday late-evening.

Vicky had told him she liked to paint, and Frey—in an attempt to keep up the shared interests—had shared with her he too liked it. He didn't really, but he needed to keep up his 'perfect' appearance.

They talked innocently about the 'shared' hobby, until Vicky had hinted that she wouldn't mind having him as a model for a painting.

He asked her what kind of model—hinting to the fact he could either be dressed, or naked—and she implied painting naked models was more intimate.

Ever since, she kept hinting to him that she wanted to paint him as a model, and an hour ago she even suggested body-painting, and despite being in class, Frey was getting turned on by that idea.

He really needed to stop sexting with Vicky, because today, none of their subjects had been PG-13.

He put the phone away, noticing Lacy was staring at him from across the classroom, and his face flushed because he swore, she was onto him for a second.

But then she rolled her eyes and looked away and he sighed in relief.

He focused back on the teacher—since that would help him out of his horny state soon enough—before he retrieved his phone again, and asked Vicky if she would be interested to meet with him.

The answer came quick, and she suggested for them to meet the same day, in the evening, in a local bar on the other side of town.

He guessed they could always go over to her place, since she was 18, and didn't live with her parents anymore.

Arun was even more silent these past few days than he normally was, and eventually—since Frey couldn't focus in class anyway—he asked him via text what was wrong.

Arun ignored him, and Frey nudges his friend, wanting to have something to do. He could pay attention, but he rather had something else to do. Classes were boring today, and he couldn't wait for the school day to end.

He hadn't done anything fun in the past couple of days, so a night of fun with Vicky sounded like a great escape.

He needed distraction from his currently messed-up life. He didn't want to think about the fact a letter was waiting for him to read it. A letter that would announce the date on which he would meet with a psychiatrist—after his doctor had told him to see one.

Julia had warned him the letter came in yesterday, and knowing his mother well, she might burn the letter if she found it. Julia had taken it with her to school that day, but they hadn't had any time to meet up for her to hand it over.

Frey was nervous about it. On one hand he wanted to know why he had the mood swings that made him as unpredictable as they did, on the other—well, he was just scared to find out what it was.

He knew his dad still wanted him to apologize to Daniel for punching his face, and he was going to have to survive working Thursday and Saturday night—with Daniel and Lacy—without a drop of alcohol during his shift.

Arun had stopped Frey from going home right after school had ended and asked him if they could talk.

Frey, not really knowing why Arun seemed as sad as he was right then, agreed.

Arun was still his best friend, and he didn't like the fact Arun seemed to feel just as shitty as he had in the past weeks. He was feeling a bit better, but nowhere near normal.

If he ever felt normal, that is.

"What's going on with you?"

"I'm worried about you." Arun shrugged as they sat down in the lunch room after Frey had bought them each a drink and a bag of crisps. "You seem to piss off a lot of people lately, and you're so... lifeless."

"I know." Frey shrugged, not surprised that Arun had noticed. He was an observing guy.

"What's going on? Is it your mother? Because you're living with your dad now."

"It's not just my mother. Yes, it's part of the problem..." Frey didn't really feel like talking, but Arun deserved an explanation. He had treated him like shit too, ignored him a lot and snapped at him for being nosy every so often too.

"What else?"

"I... don't know," Frey admitted in defeat. "I don't know what's going on exactly. I'm just so angry, and tired, and..." Frey bit his lip nervously, wondering if he should actually voice the words he had thought.

"And?" Arun pressed for more, and Frey gave in with a deep sigh.

"I sometimes just don't want to anymore."

"Don't want what?"

"I... eh... Just... I want everything to... stop..." His words became a faint whisper, barely audible to Arun, but the other boy was a great listener, and he caught the words nonetheless.

"You want everything to stop?" Arun frowned, leaning closer a bit, trying to make eye-contact with Frey. "Life?"

"I'm not... suicidal..." He wasn't, was he? But he did every so often feel as if it would be a relieve for life to just stop.

"But you're tired of life?"

"Not all the time." He defended himself, sitting up a bit. "There's periods of time in which I don't want it to stop. Or more, where I can't stop from going on, and on, and on..."

Arun's frown increased, and he let out a long breath he appeared to be holding. "Did you ever tell anyone else about this?"

"I tried telling my mom, several times. But she wouldn't listen..." Frey drawled, and lolled his head sideways a bit. "Dad listened, and we saw a doctor the other day..." Frey looked to his backpack, remembering the letter was in it. He met up with Julia in between two classes to get it.

Julia had looked tired, sad, stressed a bit, but since they both were running late for class, he didn't have to time to ask her how things at home had been since he left.

He knew his dad called Julia every evening, but he wouldn't tell Frey what was going on, telling him he needed to focus on his own problems for now.

"Frey?" Arun nudged him, and Frey noticed he was still staring at the backpack.

"I... I need to see a psychiatrist," he told Arun in a tired whisper.

"Has the doctor told you what he expects it to be?"

"She said I might be Bipolar and that she wanted a psychiatrist to diagnose me, since she can't and she can't give me medication for it either."

"Oh, shit." Arun sat up straight, as Frey pulled the letter out of his backpack.

"And this is my official appointment and now that it's getting closer, I'm getting scared. I looked up what Bipolar means and first of all, they can't cure it. I don't want to feel like this for the rest of my life."

"Frey, you're getting help. If you are indeed bipolar, they will help you." Arun placed his hand on Frey's shoulder in a comforting way, squeezing it gently. "It's good you went out and asked for help. Because honestly, I was going to tell you to go and get help. I see you every day, and you are..." Arun was now the one biting his lip before he let out another sigh. "My mom, she's depressed, really badly. She can't work, which is why I was sent to live with my aunt and uncle." Arun spoke plainly, not much emotions, but he did give information he had previously always kept hidden from Frey.

Frey had asked before, why Arun wasn't living with his parents any longer, and the simple answer had always been that they could take better care of him and his three siblings. Now Frey started to understandwhy it was better for them.

He felt depressed, and he knew he wouldn't be able to raise children of his own in his state of mind. He hardly could help his parents out with Rudy and Victor—and they weren't even his full responsibility.

"You think I'm depressed." Frey concluded from his words. "Like your mom."

"Well... you sure act the same way." Arun mumbled insecurely. "But it doesn't really matter anyway. You're looking for help."

"Right, I am."

"Good, but ehm... not to be sappy and all... but if you ever need to talk..."

"Thanks, Arun." Frey sent him a small, grateful smile. "I appreciate that."

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