Dylan and Thomas need to win that damn chemistry award. And then when they do win, they'll just stand on stage looking at each other all adorably. Btw I don't remember if I've already said that the front door in Thomas' apartment is wood, if I did then forget that. And Teen Wolf just like I am so done. Like I could go on and on about Stiles' hands alone.

Two weeks. Thomas hadn't left his room in two weeks unless he had needed to get to work. Work was his exception. He hadn't seen, nor had he heard from Newt since they left each other in the hallway outside the glass front door. Thomas always thought glass doors were stupid, anyone could break in, but he was thankful for them that day as he could see Newt walk away.

His two weeks had been simple. They were so simple that Minho worried that he was falling into a sort of depression. That wasn't something he wanted for Thomas, but the boy clearly made no effort to do anything. He'd wake up sometime around noon, only to then proceed to get a beer out of the fridge. Breakfast wasn't a priority anymore, it was a chore that he often found himself skipping. It had only been a week since that had begun though, so it was not that prominent in his weight. Yet, at least.

Thomas started this Monday early, but in no other way, grabbing a beer from the fridge while Ash gave him a sad look from where she was sitting on the counter. He ignored it like always, scanning the newspaper that Minho had left on the table. Minho emerged a few seconds later, fully dressed as his eyes held disbelief. Thomas knew that he was mad, frustrated, even disappointed in him, but it only drove him to drink more, hoping that maybe he'll forget the way he had been looked at.

"You know I'm pissed right?" Thomas glanced up, his head tilted slightly in confusion before nodding.

"Cause of Newt." He said it as a statement, not having to ask it as a question because he knew that that was what was on Minho's mind.

"That asshole is ruining you and I can't believe you don't see that." Thomas scoffed, shaking his head as he walked to the bathroom to get ready, beer still in his hand.

Minho was only looking out for Thomas, and maybe that did come across as harsh, but it was the only way he could maybe, somehow, get through to Thomas. It normally worked, this time however, it didn't. Thomas grew annoyed and upset that his friends couldn't just accept that he slept with someone occasionally.

He jumped into the shower, ignoring the burning hot water that ran down his body. He'd get used to it. Just like he was getting used to everything else. Thomas wasn't an idiot, he knew that Newt had made his life worse, but he wasn't just gonna cut off all ties with the other because he'd let himself like Newt too much. He needed other options to help cope with everything. Thomas needed to relax, calm his body form the tension that clearly wasn't doing him any good.

So, he found himself rummaging through the box of medicine, scanning each product carefully to see what it was. Some sleeping medication would be nice, so he grabbed a row of them and placed them on the counter. He also found some pain killers and anti-anxiety meds, so he took two rows of those and placed them besides the first.

Thomas placed the box back to where it originally was before taking what he'd gotten, into his hands. He rushed out of the bathroom, ignoring the glare Minho sent him along the way. Work was still quite a few hours away, but Minho and Thomas needed to be there early today because they were working on a new routine.

It was normal to switch them up every now and then, otherwise it would become too repetitive and boring, but for once he found himself not looking forward to it at all. And working with Minho didn't seem like a good idea either. Not at the moment at least.

He dropped his towel and placed it on the bed, making his way towards his closet to find something to wear. It was still raining, the weather not having improved in a month now. Realization dawned on Thomas slowly as he realized that he'd known Newt for over a month now. It was weird to him, as neither of them knew a lot about the other. It was like they'd maybe known each other for a week or less, not a full month and a half.

Thomas had spotted Newt at the club a few times since they last had spoken, but they didn't walk up to each other. Sometimes, Thomas wanted to approach. But by the time he had the chance, Newt was already gone. He pretended like it didn't hurt, but Minho could tell by the frown on his face and the evident tear drops in the corner of his eyes. Thomas hated to say it, but he missed Newt. Newt was full of flaws, but Thomas somehow liked him even more through that. Newt would never hold him with much love, but he held him nevertheless. And the blonde would never kiss him passionately either, but he'd kiss him, and that alone made Thomas feel like he was burning.

Starting with three anti-anxiety pills seemed like a good idea for Thomas, and he downed them with a bit of water from a water bottle in his mini fridge. He'd already put on jeans, and he was now searching through his closet for a shirt with shaking hands. He came across his duffel bag, realizing that he had to pack it and bring it to the club.

Thomas threw in two water bottles into the bag, along with his phone, a change of clothes and of course, some of the meds he'd taken. Taking more than a few a day was risky, Thomas knew that, but he found and odd sense of relief wash over him when he'd taken them. As if they worked straight away and calmed him to great lengths. The dangers of it were barely on his mind because they worked. Or he led himself to believe that they did.

"Thomas, we have to go now!"

"Give me a damn minute!" He shouted back to Minho, zipping up his bag before grabbing his car keys. Thomas could hear that Minho was frustrated by the barely audible response he received, but he decided to ignore it and walk out into the kitchen.

Ash was still sitting there in her pajamas, sipping her morning coffee despite morning having passed quite a while ago. Thomas raised an eyebrow at her, confused on why she wasn't dressed like the other two.

"Are you not gonna go with us today?" The girl laughed bitterly, twirling part of her hair between her fingers.

"I have a drinking problem, remember?" And then she got up and walked onto the balcony with a book in her hands before Thomas could respond to the statement Ash had made.

"If we don't leave now then we're never gonna get there." He turned to Minho again, who was currently busy holding the door open that led out.

"Fuck off will you?" Thomas walked past Minho, nudging his shoulder rather harshly before going to the elevator.

"What's got you all riled up? Newt wanting to sleep with you again before dropping you off somewhere like an escort?" Neither of them expected Thomas to react the way he did once Minho had said that. He shoved Minho against the wall, holding him up with his fists clenched, growling at the other.

"Son of a bitch. You don't talk about Newt like that!" His eyes were dark, almost black as anger surged through him. His hands itched to punch the other, but he didn't. They were still best friends. So, he slowly let Minho go, walking into the elevator and pressing the button that led to the lobby. Thomas didn't even wait for Minho to get in, so the other took the stairs.

They got into their separate cars, Minho still in disbelief of Thomas showing such violent behavior. He was never like that. And Thomas seemed to believe it even less. He knew that he wasn't like that either. Besides, to have a violent outburst half an hour after taking medication wasn't normally supposed to happen. Especially like that. Thomas would need more.

"Two more can't hurt. No one knows. I'll just say I didn't sleep. Yeah, I didn't get any sleep. That's why I'm drowsy." He reached for his bag on the passengers seat, opening it with one hand while keeping the other on the wheel. Red light. Perfect.

Letting go of the other hand on the steering wheel, he rummaged through his bag. Finding what he was looking for quickly along with his water. The timing was perfect, because the light turned green as soon as he zipped up his bag again. He put one hand back onto the wheel to steer, while his other screwed open the water bottle and removed two pills from the packaging.

"Two more won't hurt you." Thomas whispered before tilting his head back quickly to get them down.

A sense of relief washed over him again, and he felt like his heart rate was slowing down to a healthier pace as his arms suddenly stopped shaking like mad. Thomas knew that they wouldn't have an effect for at least another half an hour, but just taking them made him feel better.

He was happy to see the familiar entry to the club, and he parked his car across the street before stepping out. Minho caught up to him, but they didn't speak, walking side by side instead as they headed inside to go to the locker room. Thomas felt like he could grab onto thin air because the tension in the room was so thick as neither of them continued to say anything. They barely looked at each other as they changed.

The strip club they worked at had a small room that they had turned into a small dance studio to practice their routines. And that's where Thomas and Minho found themselves now. Minho was scrolling through music on his phone to connect to the speakers, while Thomas was looking at the mirror ahead of him and looking at himself in utter distaste. He didn't exactly look terrible, but it was like he could see everything that was wrong. Even things that weren't physical features. Not to mention the fact that he'd given his body away just like that. Maybe Minho was right. He was like Newt's own escort. Except he wasn't even getting payed. Thomas did it all for free.

He felt so conflicted, slowly breaking like a glass mirror that you've hit too hard when you're mad. It was like he saw the mirror in front of him shatter, when in fact, it was still standing there. But what he saw made him think that it was himself that was falling apart like the glass. He felt so pathetic and used.

Yet he still somehow found himself liking Newt.

"Any specific song that you want to listen to, Tommy?" Thomas' head snapped up, his eyes wide at his friend.

"Don't call me Tommy." He hissed. Thomas knew that Minho had used that nickname with him when they were a bit younger, but now it felt entirely wrong.

"Why not? I used to do it all the time back in school."

"Newt, he calls me Tommy." Minho scoffed, eyebrows raised as he looked back down at his phone.

"Of course he does."

"Yes, he does. And it doesn't feel right when it's not him saying it." He could hear Minho sigh again, clearly not up to argue as they were both already agitated. Well, for the most part they were. Thomas was feeling a little sleepy, blinking a lot more to keep his eyes open. His eyes became alert again when music rang through his ears, and he gave the other a look of annoyance at the song choice.

"SexyBack? Are you serious? That songs been around since before we were teenagers." Minho rolled his eyes.

"If you wanna strip well, this is the song you use." Minho winked.

"You're going to hell."

"Not like you're going to heaven." Thomas nodded, not being able to argue with that because it was most likely true. But hell sounded more inviting to him anyways. He'd fit in well there. So would Newt.

They worked on their new routine tills the clocked hit seven. They needed to shower before changing and getting ready for their show tonight. So, that's what they did. Thomas was still a bit tired, the medicine working for him well and calming him greatly. Of course, Minho barely noticed, laughing instead when Thomas fell over from being exhausted. He didn't know better.

"Ready?"

"Always." Minho and Thomas still hadn't made up, but they exchanged these words anyway before going onto the stage and removing their clothes one by one. Most of their clothes anyway.

Time seemed to pass in a blur to Thomas, and he barely remembered that he'd just been on stage once he walked to the locker room. He hadn't spotted Newt either, much to his disappointment. Thomas had gotten his hopes up. He should've just called Newt at this rate. At least that's what he thought to himself as he showered once more before getting dressed.

"You ready?" Minho called from the door as Thomas put his jacket on.

"Yeah. Let's go." They started walking, silent at first before Minho decided to break it.

"You know I'm only harsh on you about him because of what he's doing to you." Thomas let out a sigh.

"Do we need to have this conversation here? Besides, you should just drop it. It's not like I'm being forced to do things."

"Not like you have the choice to say no though." Thomas stopped walking right in front of the exit, slightly ticked off because his friend (if he could still be considered that) wouldn't shut up about the blonde.

"I could say no. But I don't. Now shut it." Minho smirked, moving closer to Thomas.

"And what happens if I don't shut it?" Thomas looked down, not muttering a single word.

"This happens." A voice seemed to say out of nowhere, and Minho looked at the source just in time to get hit in the face. Thomas gasped, looking to his side to see none other than Newt. Thomas didn't know what to say, all he felt was an arm wrap around his waist protectively as his friend touched his jaw, hissing in pain when he felt it.

Minho looked up, eyeing Newt one time before chuckling and rolling his eyes.

"Let me guess, this is Newt." Thomas was about to say something, Newt speaking before he had the chance.

"You'd be right with your guess. And no one lays a hand on my Tommy." Thomas would've blushed, except he realized he wasn't Newt's. They never talked about that. Newt didn't have the right to say that out of nowhere.

"I don't belong to you, Newt. And Minho, you kind of deserved that. Not gonna lie. Now, leave me be." Thomas left at that, walking out to his car and driving home in the dark. He seemed incredibly frustrated the further the day went along, and he was pretty sure that his head would've exploded by now if he'd been a cartoon character. At least his life was just as much of a joke as one.

He got home faster than he'd thought he would, normally traffic would make it difficult to take under twenty minutes. But he succeeded in taking only seventeen. He looked up the apartment building, seeing that the only light on in their home was the living room. His hair was now soaked and so were his clothes, the rain pouring down at a faster rate than before, and he ran inside to go upstairs so that he could change and lie in bed with his blanket around him. It was a comforting thought, and he kicked off his shoes when he got into the hall, throwing his bag to the side too as he shut the door. It was quiet, and Ash wasn't in the kitchen like he'd thought she'd be. It was around nine, a time where she'd normally decide that dinner three hours earlier hadn't been enough, and she'd be microwaving something to eat.

The balcony door was slightly ajar, and Thomas walked over to it after he'd changed into a new pair of sweatpants and a sweater to go with it. He glanced outside, seeing Ash sitting there on their outdoor sofa as they called it, and her knees were against her chest with a blanket around her, a cigarette burning in her hand. She was reading a book with the other, not acknowledging his presence as he walked out and sat beside her.

He saw the packet of cigarettes, taking it in his hand an examining it before laughing silently to himself. He had no idea who would name a brand of cigarettes Black Devil but that's what they were called. Thomas shrugged, taking one without asking and placing it between his dry lips. Throwing the package to the side, he grabbed a hold of the lighter beside him as well, all whilst Ash was studying him intently with her eyes. She was focusing on every movement he made, trying to see if something was slightly off putting as he lit the end, smoke filling the air around them and vaporizing quickly into nothing.

Thomas looked at the girl beside him as she took another drag from her own cigarette, and he scanned the title of the book that she was reading to make conversation.

"I don't want to kill you? How calming." She shrugged.

"It's a decent book once you get into it."

"Well I'm sure that you'd want to kill me if that book was about us." He said.

"Maybe a little. But you have only yourself to blame for that. Besides, I'd be doing you a favor by killing you." Thomas looked at her in an odd way, and she must've picked up on it as she went on to explain herself.

"I'd be doing you a favor because you'd no longer be trapped in Newt's little game." Thomas took two long drags, inhaling the smoke entirely before he let out a loud sigh.

"Somehow everyone seems to lecture me about that today. Minho hasn't shut up about it."

"I can see why. He's worried."

"He's exaggerating. Just like the drama queen he is." Thomas said, standing up to throw the cigarette off the railing before walking back, getting another one out and lighting it straight away.

"My cigarettes cost money."

"They cost you your life too. The fact that the filter is black doesn't make it any better." Ash rolled her eyes at him, a small smile making it's way onto her face as she went back to her book.

"Where is Minho?" Thomas shrugged, he really didn't know where the other was. He assumed he was still at the club.

"Left him after he met Newt. No idea where he is now." Ash threw her book to the side, turning her whole body and attention to him as she was fully listening now.

"Minho met Newt? That's gold." Thomas laughed, crossing his legs over another as he turned to her too.

"Newt punched him. What a way to meet right?" Ash giggled, covering her mouth with her hand to barely make it audible.

"Depends. What did he do when you met?" Thomas thought for a minute before a smile made it's way onto his face.

"He may've pushed a guys face down onto the table." The girl bit her lip, her eyes holding a smile as her lips were trying not to.

"He seems protective over you." He nodded before letting his mind wander. She did seem to have a point. Newt did seem quite protective of him.

"Or he's possessive of his things and it just looks like he's protective." Thomas glared at her.

"Way to ruin it. And I am not one of Newt's things. Do I look like a bloody object?" She gave him a strange look, and he returned one until he realized what he'd said.

"Fuck. I even sound like him." He placed one of his hands on his head in shame, the other still holding what was barely the filter of a cigarette.

"Yeah, never heard you use the word bloody before. Does Newt use it a lot?" Thomas shook his head again.

"Usually just when we... never mind."

"Have sex?" His head snapped up to look at her when she'd said that.

"Okay, when I say never mind, it means you don't need to tell me what we both already know." The girl nodded, but clearly ignored what he'd said.

"So speaking of sex, how's you and Newt anyway?" Thomas laughed bitterly at her, going to grab another cigarette, but Ash saw it in time to take the pack away from him.

"I love how you straight away just assume that all there is to me and Newt is sex."

"Well, isn't it?" They both stayed quiet, and he slowly came to terms with the fact that she was right. What else were he and Newt? Nothing. Ash wasn't assuming anything, she was telling him the truth. And the truth was that he and Newt only existed as one when it related to sex.

"Yeah. That's all we are." He said, his voice trailing off as a tear slipped from his eye. Newt was messing everything up, but he didn't resist it. He wasn't stopping it because he'd let his emotions seep through when he was getting involved with Newt. Being with Newt meant too much to him.

He felt an arm wrap around him, and he rested his head on Ash's shoulder automatically as they looked out onto the city. Thomas wanted to scream and punch himself repeatedly, but he chose to just cry instead. The girl only held him tighter, wrapping the blanket around him too so that he wouldn't freeze.

"You'll figure something out. And then you'll be okay. I promise." Thomas nodded, but he didn't believe a word she said.

He wasn't going to be okay. Not if Newt stayed in his life.