The hour hand of the clock passed the number twelve for the second time since Zak made his entrance in the office, and words didn't give a sign of wanting to stop flowing out of the Principal's mouth.

Sitting there on the opposite side of the desk, powerless and defeated, the boy in blue was fighting against those tears pricking in the corner of his eyes.

The last thing he was wishing for, was giving the woman a double victory by breaking down in front of her.

On the desk sat three sheets facing Zak, big and red "F"'s along with scribbles complaining about the blank responses on the test, were written on each paper.

As expected, in those two hours the Junior didn't hear a single positive observation from the middle-aged woman.

Taking a deep breath as an attempt to calm himself, he clenched his teeth, silently hoping for that hell to end.

"So, let's summarize your situation; shall we, Carder?" the Principal asked with her usual fake emphatic tone of voice.

Unable to contain the grimace forming on his face, Zak attempted to swallow the knot in his throat.

With all his soul and broken heart, he really didn't want to hear the consequences of his actions a second time.

"First of all," she started, a small grin forming on her lips. "your phone will be taken away for a week—"

Zak didn't resist more than a second, and immediately snapped with his squeaky voice, "Wait, what?! You never said that!"

"I did. Your lack of attention is not my fault," she bit back, narrowing her eyes.

"How am I supposed to get in contact with Callahan?!" the boy in blue objected, ignoring her tease.

"Every dorm has a landline, you can call him or answer to his calls there. He's already been informed of your situation, and he agreed with the measures I'm taking."

Hearing that statement felt like a stab for Zak, completely caught off guard by his lawyer's agreement.

He wasn't only hurt.

'And that's why I don't fucking trust adults.'

But betrayed. Once again.

At Zak's silent reaction to her words, the Principal stretched her hand out with a small self-pleased grin plastered on her face.

After narrowing his eyes and hesitating for a moment, the Junior breathed "Fine." and took his phone out of his black jeans' pocket, placing it on her palm.

"Good," she started again, putting the device away. "You'll have to participate in an extra training session every week, and the label as captain of the baseball team will remain yours."

A silent nod from Zak came in response to the new rule.

"And if your grade won't reach an average of seventy percent," the woman paused, making sure there was an eye contact between her and the student. "you'll have to participate in extra classes."

Clenching his teeth as an attempt not to snap, the boy in blue forced himself to nod once again.

"And, last but not least, about the Noveschosh situation, I'm pretty sure you understood what is going to happen," as her annoying, self-pleased tone ended the sentence, her hand slid a key with a familiar Keychain. The number fourteen was engraved on it. "Remember, you have time until tomorrow," she added.

Narrowing his eyes full of hatred towards the woman sitting in front of him, Zak clenched his teeth further.

"Go do the work I assigned you, and tomorrow you'll be allowed to participate in your classes." another fake smile grew on her lips. "You're dismissed, Carder."

Without wanting to stay in that office any longer, Zak shot up from his chair and grabbed the key on the desk with a rough and swift motion, and after forcing himself to murmur a greeting, he left the room.

The anger that made his blood boil and his thoughts spiral in his head quickly faded into numbness.

As he walked down the empty hallways, he started to feel emptier with every step taken.

Only, once that lack of feeling took over everything, Zak realized how bad he felt. He had no idea what to do, what to think and what to feel.

His legs stopped, refusing to walk.

Zak fell for it again. He fell for the same stupid, unfounded hope. The hope he tried his best to hold close, and despite his attempts, it faded.

Finally getting better, out of that dark place he was drowning in for so long now, wasn't anything more than a dream. He thought he saw beams of light, filtered from the surface of the dark water, but the huge weight that kept him from swimming up to it increased further, dragging him back to rock bottom with his lungs still full of water.

The same morning Zak genuinely saw a way out of that nightmare, however, he was so used to it, used to hope for something that wasn't going to happen anytime soon.

The same morning he started to look forward, to a close future with Darryl and his friends, and no matter how hard he tried to rethink it. Pitch, deep black welcomed him at the thought of a tomorrow.

'Maybe there actually isn't a way out of this,' he took a deep breath, shaking his head before resuming his walk. 'Yeah, maybe I'm right...'

The short boy kept his pace, head down and eyes getting lost in the funny patterned ground. The rhythmical tapping caused by his shoes faded behind the overwhelming amount of thoughts spiraling in his head.

However, not a single one  was about any kind of future, or about baseball, or his friends, or anything he ever loved.

Zak let it hurt for so long, to a point where it couldn't hurt him anymore.

Leaving him sinking in that mud of overwhelming numbness he was so close to getting out of.

The slightest hopes felt like a blade in his chest, and for how much they kept him alive despite the pain they caused, in the end, they killed him.

Another deep, shaky breath and Zak brought the sleeves of Darryl's black jacket against his eyes, pressing on them. He was subconsciously trying to stop nonexistent tears, not realizing there was nothing left to cry.

The rhythm of his shoes hitting the ground echoing in the empty hallway slowed down once again, then completely halted.

Nails dug into the palms of Zak's hands as he closed them into fists as if the pain of his flesh getting stabbed could function as a reminder of being awake and alive.

Regardless of having survived his whole life with that emptiness inside of him, along with a controlling numbness, Zak wasn't ready to fall back into that limbo.

He just started to feel positive emotions, he started to live and not only breathe, and he was no longer able to endure his life as a zombie who can't do anything more than just breathe.

Maybe he deserved it.

With another shaky sigh, Zak scoffed and leaned against the closest wall.

"What the hell is happening to me... I just... have to work harder," his eyes narrowed into a tired frown. "move on, and stay away from Darryl," he breathed, choking on the knot in his throat.

The only idea of himself obligated alone, without his friends and especially without Darryl, consumed him slowly.

After a long moment, Zak got away from the wall only to end up punching it with all the force he had in his body.
He didn't stop at the first, nor did he at his second punch, but he did at his third swing, close enough to hit the concrete again.

"Fuck..." he spat, staring at his bloody knuckles. "Fuck this shit."

Others deep breaths, he attempted to calm himself down. What he was doing is not going to improve anything, and acknowledging that, Zak attempted to focus on it.

However, it seemed as if he traveled back time right before his last two relapses, where he always found the answer in mutilation, alcohol, and drugs.

He missed them.

Shaking his head violently, Zak snapped himself back to reality. He wasn't going to fall for it again.

'I need to distract myself.' he thought, resuming his walk once again.

Time seemed like a nonexistent concept as the boy in blue found himself already up the last flight of stairs that led to the floor where his dormitory was.

A sigh escaped his mouth, and somehow, Zak felt inside of a dream. He didn't feel real.

His chocolate eyes lifted from the floor as they caught a movement in front of him, and not even seeing Dave standing not too far to him made Zak feel something.

"Are you fucking serious..." he wearily spat, stopping his walk.

In reply to his muttering, Dave showed off a pleased grin on his lips as he slightly lifted his chin up with superiority, then tucked his hands in the school's jacket.

"Are you seriously not done with this bullshit?" the Junior scoffed with a shake of his head.

"I haven't even started," he bit back, all smug.

For how much Zak wanted to turn on himself and avoid that encounter, he could feel the presence of someone behind him. However, he wasn't wanting to know who was it.

"Kicking you out of the team wouldn't take me much effort, y'know?"

The senior's eyebrows lifted while his grin grew wider onto an amused expression.

"Oh, really? I don't think so, big boy." he bit back, tilting his head.

Frowning slightly, Zak studied the blonde boy's expression with confusion.

"You're a sellout, Carder. Nothing more than that," Dave continued, starting to step closer to the boy in blue. "And sellouts don't have any kind of power." he stopped beside the boy, roughly leaning his hand on his shoulder. "Good luck for Friday's game, you'll need it." two violent pats followed his wishes, and chuckling at his words, Dave walked away with whoever was behind Zak.

Completely overwhelmed with all the events that had place that morning, the boy in blue shakily walked to his apartment.

He tried his best to ignore what just happened with Dave, he was the last of his last concerns.

As Zak stood in front of the apartment, his hand searched for the key.

Watching at his palm, he realized he picked the one of what, from tomorrow, would be his new dormitory. He stared at the number fourteen for a long moment before shaking his head and taking the right key.

Once inside, Zak closed the door behind him and leaned against it, wearily studying the apartment.

He took a deep breath, the air impregnated with the scent of the muffins he and Darryl cooked two days before. A light smile grew on his lips at the happy memories.

Sighing, he pressed the sleeves of Darryl's jacked against his nose, and closing his eyes he filled his nostrils with his sweet and calming scent.

That was what kept him alive. Yet, he had to leave.

'I'm gonna miss all of this.'

And all of a sudden, pain was all Zak craved for.

Without hesitation, he walked to the bathroom, but as he knelt down to reach the hidden black box, something stopped him.

Silent, the short boy stood up and leaned against the sink, shaking his head after staring at an undefined point on the white polish.

Water started running, and Zak threw the freezing liquid against his face, then turned off the sink.

His cold hands cupped his face once again, another deep breath.

"I already said this. There's no way I'm gonna fall for it again," he muttered, then walked out of the bathroom.

Out of the blue, Zak remembered Darryl's suggestion. The one asking him to write down his feelings rather than harming himself.

Glancing at his backpack, the short boy sighed and reached for it, taking out a pencil and a sheet that got crumpled in the process.

He sat on the ground, placing the piece of paper in front of him, and after staring at it for a moment of hesitation, Zak tried. He attempted to write down his feelings in any shape and form, but the sheet stayed empty.

And he couldn't have explained it any better.

Groaning, his hands closed on the blank paper crumpling it into a ball, then Zak threw it away.
Out of frustration, the short boy dragged his backpack closer by its shoulder strap, causing it to fall.
Some belongings happened to get out of the front pocket, rolling on the ground, but he didn't care.

He grabbed what he was searching for, which was an outdated iPod, and after putting the earbuds on, the music blasted in his ear.

Zak attempted to just lie down on the floor and get lost in the melodies, but despite those playing at an unhealthy volume, his thoughts managed to get louder than the music.

Getting up from the ground, the short boy walked to his room and started filling a bag with his belongings, which weren't much, but halfway through, he gave up.
Storming towards the apartment's landline, Zak dialed Callahan number and during the wait for a response, he leaned against the wooden furniture.

"Good morning, Callahan-" the familiar voice on the other line recited a presentation, getting immediately cut off.

"Sadly, I know who you are." the boy in blue spat, narrowing his eyes.

A short moment of silence welcomed his words, then a question came. "Zak? Is tha-"

"Yes, it's me," he muttered, not bothering to let him finish any of his sentences. "Why would you agree to that?!"

"Agree to wha-"

"Agree to me moving into another dorm! Alone! You know perfectly well that I can't do that with all I'm going through!"

"Zak! Calm down, Jesus!" the adult on the other side finally snapped, silencing him.

Frustrated, the boy in blue took a deep breath and muttered some sort of excuse.

"I just want to understand why you thought any of this was a good idea." he attempted to explain in a calmer tone of voice. "The whole, let's separate Zak from the boy he trusts the most and send him to a dorm alone, and restrict his interaction with Darryl as well since any sort of PDA is not tolerated despite the fact there are horny freshmen grinding on their boyfriends in the halls like they're in heat! Ignoring also the fact I and Darryl are nothing more than..." he regretted starting that avoidable sentence. "Friends."

Zak didn't realize how much that was hurting him. He respected Darryl, and would never press on him in any way, but he was genuinely scared of him never being ready.

An exasperated sigh came from the other side, "Zak, seriously. You got to stop this."

"Wh— Stop what?!" he questioned, frowning.

"You've been babied around for too much now. I know I told you I wanted the best for you, but for how bad what I'm about to say will make me look, I honestly don't care because you need to hear this. You really got to get your shit together and move on, Zak. Seriously, I'm genuinely concerned about your future. There will be times you'll be alone, and you can't do anything about it but just bear with the loneliness. You got to start and try to fight your monsters alone before it's too late."

Speechless over Callahan's unexpected word vomiting, Zak closed his eyes tight.

"Do this for me. And for Darryl, who called me already twice since he got out of his room. He's worried about you for the same reason."

Another frown grew on the short boy's face.

"You can't rely on someone for the rest of your life. Please, Zak. Staying alone for a few hours is not the end of the world."

"I guess," he breathed, and after a long moment of silence, sighed. "Have a nice day, Callahan."

"You too, stay safe."

Zak placed the phone on its base, ending the call, then walked away from it. Once again, he felt somewhat betrayed, regardless of how right Callahan was.

Sighing, he walked back to his room and forced himself to finish his bag, and as soon as his part of the closet was empty, he grabbed his iPod back and laid back down on the floor, right by the french window.

A bright and warm sunbeam filtered through the curtains, and Zak admired its calming light. His hand stretched out instinctively, playing with the games of lights the shadow of his hand and fingers caused.

He closed his eyes, cradled by the feeling of complete emptiness. Even his thoughts faded into nothing.

Everything felt so surreal.

Suddenly, the calming and sweet scent of Darryl filled Zak's nostrils as familiar arms wrapped around his small body. In the process, his earbuds fell out of his ears.

His chocolate eyes opened again, the Senior was silent, but held him tight.

"I love you, Zak," Darryl whispered, but he meant more than that.

"Don't leave me, I need you."

"I love you too," he replied, his hands clenching on his jacket.

"Don't let me go."

And so much more was said in the unspoken.

[unedited; 2884 words.]
sorry for the short
and messy chapter.

(He shouldn't be apologizing because I told him it was amazing when he had me edit this but he doesn't listen. Please tell Noah how amazing he is by commenting right here. He deserves it. -Skepperonipizza)