*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧—chapter four: laughter lines

(tw: mentions of substance abuse, mentions of physical abuse, mentions of attempted suicide)

POE CAN'T TELL IF HE'S FALSIFIED HIS OWN MEMORIES TO FIT THE NARRATIVE FOR HIS OWN SAKE. He can't remember anything that happened before the age of six, no matter how hard he tries. There's a mental block. What he thinks he remembers is far from the truth. None of that is what really happened. He's made his own false happy memories to not have to deal with the fact his father is struggling both physically and mentally.

His parents never loved each other. That had been a known fact since the day Poe was born. Anya was never supposed to get pregnant. Just one slip up was all it took. No protection. During her ovulation week.

It had started out only with gentle kisses and nothing more. At first. But May of 1984 was when that had all changed. They both had been drunk when they did it. Hate sex was common with them, insults being thrown around here and there. But for them, it made the moment better. The night they had done it, Marlon had informed her he didn't have a condom. Anya said she didn't care.

Two weeks later she was pregnant.

Nine months later, Poe was born.

Anya and Marlon had fights all the time. Whether it be arguments resulting from the fact that young Poe had come crying to his father because his mother had yelled at him and hit him for something that wasn't his fault, or because Anya didn't want to hear the truth from Marlon: that she's a horrible mother and a horrible wife.

Poe knows it's what happened. The fights. But he can't remember any of the ones that happened from when he started to form memories starting at age three. That mental block, just that empty space in his mind, preventing him from accessing those memories, it's just there and he can't make it go away. And he knows if he were to bring it up at any point in conversation with his father, then Marlon would resort to drinking again if he ever mentioned anything about Anya.

And it hadn't been the first time Marlon had abused substances. Not only had he become some sort of alcoholic, but not enough to become a raging piece of shit for no reason, only enough to still have a rational enough mind, he also abused the painkillers he takes for his migraines. Poe first noticed when he was seven years old. He found a bottle of an over-the-counter migraine medication on the bathroom counter, open, several pills missing. Marlon was knelt in front of the toilet, retching and vomiting, trying to throw it all back up before he could suffer serious consequences. The serious consequences being internal damage, hospitalization, or worse: death.

That was the first time the boy ever really noticed something had been wrong.

He never questioned his father about it.

But, it's been going on for so long, and sometimes Poe isn't sure if he should call the police and have them get Marlon medical help. A therapist maybe. And put him in Alcoholics Anonymous and Narcotics Anonymous.

But he also knows that if he tries, Marlon would refuse the help because, according to him, he can get through this on his own.

Poe never believed him.

✧ ✧ ✧

"How was your day, Nico?" Poe is lying down on his bed, the phone close to his ear as he stares up at the ceiling. He has the cord wrapped around the fingers of his other hand as he waits for a response.

"It was great! I missed you, though. You really should've been at today's race." He can tell that Nico really was disappointed in the fact that he hadn't shown up to the karting race today, but he didn't let that get to him. He could still hear the smile in his voice as he speaks again. "I won! And I was the fastest out of everyone there! You should see my trophy next time you come over!"

Poe giggles. "Yeah, I know, I'm sorry I couldn't make it today. Papa took me to work with him today. But, I'll be there next time! And yeah, I wanna see your trophy!"

"Wollen Sie später aufhängen?" Nico questions in German. He was testing him, Poe knows that. In only the three years they've known each other—and been friends—Nico had been trying to teach the Monégasque boy German. And, Nico still isn't very good at French, so after, Poe would teach him a few new words and phrases.

"Und was tun?" Poe replies, letting go of the cord of the phone and rolling over onto his stomach.

"On pourrait aller faire une promenade?" French now.

"Oui." Poe smiles. "Nico, you gotta work on your pronunciations. You pronounced pourrait wrong."

"You still understood me, though," the blond whines. "And your German isn't any better either."

"Well, yes, but at least my attempt at speaking German sounds better than your French! You'll end up confusing everyone else!" Poe shoots back as he sits up on his bed. "What time were you thinking?"

"Three o'clock, maybe? Your dad doesn't go in for his other job until five, right?"

"Yeah, that'll work. We have two hours to kill anyway before he leaves and then I'm at yours for the rest of the day."

"Perfect! See you then, Poe!"

"See you then, Nico." With that, Poe sets the phone back on the hook and lays back down, a satisfied smile forming on his face.

✧ ✧ ✧

"You have whipped cream on your nose, Nico," Poe giggles, putting the plastic straw that sat in the cup of his milkshake in his mouth as they leave the creamery. He had ordered a vanilla milkshake. Whipped cream. No sprinkles. No cherries.

Nico ordered a chocolate milkshake. Extra whipped cream. Sprinkles. Extra cherries.

"I do?" Nico questions, rubbing the back of his right hand across the tip of his nose. As the whipped cream that had gotten there came in contact with his hand, he grimaces and wipes it off in his shirt. "Is it gone?"

"Yeah." Poe grins. "What time is it?"

Nico glances at his watch, reading the time as the seconds ticked by. "Four-thirty. We should start heading back, yeah?"

It was four-fifty-five by the time they get back to the Rosbergs' apartment. Discarding the now-empty milkshake cups in the trash, the two boys head inside.

Kicking their shoes off by the door, they chase each other across the apartment, into the living room, and then into the hall, their giggles filling the air. By now, Keke and Sina had already known that the boys were inseparable at this point. It had been three years since Poe and Nico became friends, and ever since that day when they first met, Nico knew they'd be best friends.

But for forever?

Who knows.

author's note
short-lived happiness bc in
the next chapter and the one
after that, there's just angst
everywhere. you're welcome
🤗🤗

i don't apologize only bc i
warned y'all in the beginning

08.10.24