ENVIRONMENTAL ISSUES ━━

SOMEHOW IN BETWEEN THE TIME WHAT FELT LIKE HOURS FOR THE SENSEIS WHO HAD TO watch and endure the forever ongoing tension that lasted between both of their most recent students. Whispers unbeknownst the pair had gone around multiple times but everyone decided to not comment nor say anything to them as the pair both seemed quite.. oblivious to all of the emotions sparked in between them.

Johnny had gotten fed up with watching the pair stutter and ramble to each other and focused his gaze more onto the ones he was certain would be able to join or at least have a shot at joining the Sekai Tekai. They made their way over to the changing rooms, but the only ones left now were Sam, Anthony, Ethan, Robby and Miguel. Well, obviously the three eldest were observing the other two as they made their way over to the rooms. Miguel tried to share a look with Sam but she just shook her head, indicating an immediate no for whatever he would try to non-verbally signal her direction. He was confused but just decided to not go against Sam on a matter that involved her brother.

In the dressing rooms Anthony couldn't help but let his gaze linger seconds longer than supposed to. Ethan could feel the lingering gay staring holes into his back, he was worried that Anthony would notice the faded marks lingering all over his skin as if they were forced on to his body and had no control over. He masked his insecurity by quickly changing into his regular clothes and giving Anthony no time to inspect the weird hand marks that had been painted onto his skin long ago. However, unbeknownst Ethan, Anthony had long seen those scars the first time he had trained. Anthony often wondered what the scars on his body represented, if this boy had a boyfriend or not. He decided to be respectful and not comment on the marks that tainted Ethan his body.

Despite Anthony wanting to be respectful he couldn't help his eyes that headed Ethan's direction every time he had seen him. He couldn't help it at this point, this boy had captured in this gaze he couldn't explain to others, he felt so captivated by the beauty that this boy held, as if the boy was something gifted from the old ancient Greek times. There weren't enough words to describe how pretty Ethan was in Anthony his eyes, no dictionary could describe in the words it owned on their paper how pretty the boy was. Anthony was sure that Ethan was something God's had gifted them, because no one should be blessed with such beauty in their life.  Anthony was convinced Ethan was way above everyone else on earth.

Gathering the courage Anthony spoke, "Hey umh.. Ethan do you want to work on the project later tonight?" The boy asked his voice was a bit timid but you could still clearly understand him. If you didn't know Anthony you would think that this was a regular voice, Ethan didn't know Anthony well enough to realise this, but Sam who was waiting outside for her brother, noticed this, and once again she was convinced her brother was oblivious to the feelings he was garnering for the new boy.

Ethan looked up and surprised, his bag loosely hanging off of his shoulder. The boy offered a gentle smile before hesitantly nodding. If the boy was honest, he had no idea if he was going to be allowed at such hour, but he could always ask his mother, yet he wasn't sure if his father would agree with it.

Ethan started, "I'll have to ask my parents but I'm pretty sure I can." He explained with a weak smile lacing his lips. "I will let you know." He spoke, Anthony returned the smile, a weak, faded blush covering the sides of his cheeks.

"Yeah cool I'll umh.. I'll be waiting for your call." Anthony replied hoping that Ethan couldn't recognise the nerves in his tone, the last thing he wanted was Ethan to think that he was a pussy who couldn't even ask his acquaintance to work on their shared project. Or should he call Ethan a friend now? He was fine with that label, but it still felt odd.

Ethan nodded with a friendly smile that could do no one harm. Both of them walked out together oblivious to the stares that the other ones gave them, speculating whether or not the both of them were dating. After a long silent car ride home, Ethan had finally arrived home. His mom couldn't stay long though, she had to work her night shift and was quickly gone out of the house leaving Ethan alone with his father.

Ethan didn't like his father.

He just prayed that the man was in a good mood this night and was heading towards his room, when he heard the familiar, drunken voice call to him. "Ethan my boy, are you running away from me?" As if Ethan was a main character in a movie, he felt a chill run down his spine as he turned slowly to face his father. Like a cinematic masterpiece would describe the scene, Ethan couldn't feel any emotion other than pure fear running through his veins as if it were injected into him as a drug. His father hadn't been drinking in a long time anymore, yet he knew he couldn't trust it. Memories flooded into his mind as he tried to make a move to run into his room and curl up into a ball to cry himself to sleep at night, yet he stood frozen in the hallway staring at his father who was holding a beer bottle that he knew was empty if he were to look inside of it.

His father had a cruel smirk on his face, as if he could feel the fear penetrating his son's body and somehow found amusement in it. Ethan had never told his mother how his father behaved when she was gone, in recent years it had gotten less than when he was a kid, so he had just prayed that it would slowly fade away from his father's character. Yet here he was, standing in the hallway where it had began eight years prior to this moment.

He felt a tear well up in his eye, "Dad please, I have to go to a project later I really don't want to do it tonight." Ethan weakly pleaded, through the years of his father's hands grazing over his body he had learned that being loud only pissed off his father more. The older he got the more timid his voice got, the less hope there was for people to hear him when the hands pushed his thighs apart as if they were branches of trees blocking a roadway.

His father his browse raised in surprise, "I didn't know I gave you permission to go out at this hour." His father started, his expression clearly showing distaste towards what his son was planning to do. He glared down at his son, who was cowering in his sight like he had always been. Ethan never realised how frail he looked to his father's eyes, and how much his father enjoyed the agony his son went through just to not collapse onto his knees when he was standing in front of him 

Ethan stammered, his hand was balled into a fist, his fingernails scraping against the palm of his hand so painfully hard he could feel gentle blood drops starting to spill in his own hand. "Dad, it's- it's a school project I have to." The boy pleaded trying to conceal how much his voice was trembling underneath his harsh gaze. His father scoffed, as if not believing anyone would willingly partner up with his frail, embarrassment of a son.

He knew his son was only good for one thing, and that was spreading his legs. He found out Ethan used to be really good at kicking but he had conditioned his son into laying still during their times together.

"Tell the person you'll be there in two hours. That should give me enough time." His father spoke in an emotionless tone, as if this was something he expected to be normal, something he expected to be given to him by his son.

Ethan felt the world slip underneath his feet, his vision spiralled relentlessly and he wanted to get out. He wanted to run away and never return back, he wanted to move away to a country where father would never find him and flee with his mother who didn't know this was how her husband acted when the lights were out and she was working. For some reason it felt as if Ethan was a child again, as if he was seven years old again begging his father to pry his hands off of him, wondering what he had done to deserve such immense pain inflicted onto his body.

Suddenly Ethan remembered how painful last time was, his father had been in an exceptionally bad mood that time and it had shown for weeks at an end on his skin. He knew Anthony already had questions raised in mind about the purple hand marks on his skin, claiming his frail skin to be theirs as if they had been placed willingly while they hadn't. Ethan saw his father approached him and he couldn't control the tears that were rolling down his cheek anymore. Despite this being the millionth time that his father started touching him inappropriately he suddenly felt as if he were seven again, as if his mind had switched back to being seven years old and experiencing it for the first time. He wasn't regressing, he knew who he was, he knew how old he was, but he felt something recognisable from that age. His trust once again be shattered in the pieces, his hope he once had for his father to change into a better man crushed once again.

Ethan didn't have a choice, he pulled out his phone and texted Anthony he could only meet up in two hours from now. When is father got closer he could reek the beer from the stain that had spilled over his loose tank top, he quickly put away his phone staring down at the ground. His father seemed impatient, "Well what are you waiting for?" His father asked in annoyance, clearly impatient.

"You know the drill, go to your bed and I'll get the tape. Last time you were so loud our damn neighbours could almost hear us." He hissed down at his son in clear disgust. All Ethan could do was nod whilst he headed towards his room.

The hour he knew his father was gonna use to abuse his skin ended up being filled with agonising whimpers all around his house as his mouth was taped shut and his hands tied on his back. Ethan didn't remember the last time he cried so hard, he was certain at a certain point his tears had become a small shower for his pillow.

By the end of it Ethan was unsure if he was going to be able to walk, his father had left his room, probably to drink more booze and lose his mind over some football. Whilst Ethan was left all alone to recover, the tape on his hands gone but the one on his face remained because he was unsure whether or not he wanted to hear his voice now, the voice that many said came from his father.

AUTHOR's NOTE

Lol we can dedicate this chapter to peter because he said he was going to block me, this is all his fault trust