4. bump

CHAPTER FOUR

BUMP

—

Church was starting to become more and more painful to deal with.

With the church-goers constantly bashing on any religion that wasn't Christianity, justifying their hate with Bible verses, spewing their own, made-up bullshit about homophobia and transphobia— Dmitri was getting sick of it.

However, the worst part about church was the judgemental stares of the church-goers; literal fucking vultures circling the dead, waiting to pounce on his carcass of mental illness and queerness.

It was easier a year ago, when Eden used to accompany him to church. People were less intrusive, less pushy.

Unfortunately, that stopped when she accidentally let it slip that she didn't actually enjoy going to church, and she only did it because he looked like he "was going to cry every time he went to church" and "needed moral support".

He was still a Christian, there was no denying that. While the priest (and most others at the church) were fucking frustrating, Dmitri wasn't about to give up his faith for them. Sure, it was hard to be surrounded by some of the most intolerable people he had ever met, but they weren't worth him giving up on one of the only things he believed in.

That didn't stop him from wanting to commit a murder every time he entered the church, though.

Shooting the person beside him a strained smile, Dmitri sidled past them and left the church once the mass ended, finally allowing himself to breathe. The choir had thankfully become a faint echo behind him as he left, walking all the way to his car where he saw that Eden had sent him a message.

e <3 -

How was church!!!!!!! Did you sing with the choir??🙆🏾‍♂️🎶🙆🏾‍♂️🎶

A small laugh left Dmitri's mouth, and he shook his head, quickly typing a text back to her.

D💜 -

absolutely not lolol

D💜 -

think I'm going to the mall, I'll see you in a few yea?

For someone so proudly queer, he sure didn't text like it.

e <3 -

No emojis... where is the FLAVOR. Anyway, ya ok😘

So, Dmitri began to drive, switching on the radio and turning it down to the lowest volume, a trashy pop song playing on it, one that he couldn't really care for. He just needed the music while he drove, the silence was too overwhelming.

Honestly, Dmitri had no fucking clue what he was doing at the mall. There was no need for him to even be there, he didn't have anything that he needed to buy, other than a gift for Trinh's birthday, which was a whole two weeks away.

Sighing, Dmitri entered the mall, alone, the sound of Lorde reverberating in his ears, volume cranked up on full to avoid the fucking loneliness, the quiet, the everything, because even though his head was starting to ache from the music, anything hurt less than the numbing silence.

Depression really was a fucking bitch, sometimes.

He wasn't in a depressive episode, per se. Those were worse. Those were standing under the shower at two a.m, fully clothed, just to feel something that wasn't numb, getting out of bed and feeling tired immediately after, cracking jokes that were actually morbid and getting pity laughs from everyone.

Yeah, those were worse.

This is just a bump in the road. A tiny bump.

Just as Dmitri was scanning the racks of clothes, just so that he didn't seem suspicious in the store, out of the corner of his eye, he saw someone.

Three people, to be more specific.

Fuck.

He had the worst fucking luck.

Heart picking up its pace, he turned his head around, hoping that his dark blue shirt and black jeans would camouflage him with the clothes he was shifting through. Of course, it didn't work and soon enough, the three of them were coming towards him.

So, Dmitri did what any sane twenty three year old would do.

He ran. He fucking sprinted out of the store, all the way to the opposite side of the mall, entering another clothing store.

Heart roaring in his ears, Dmitri placed a hand over his chest as he panted heavily, heartbeat taking the place of silence now. Holy fucking shit, that was—

Before he could even finish his thought, he felt a hand appear on his shoulder, touch familiar, but not too familiar. Dmitri instantly whipped his head around, breathing still coming out in short pants, only to make eye contact with Zoya. And Tariq. No.

"Dmitri?" Zoya asked, eyes searching his face. "What's wrong with you?"

No, no, no. "There's— nothing's wrong," he stuttered out, itching to turn around to check if his siblings were behind him. "Everything is fine. Hi, Zoya. H-Hi."

Tariq nodded, humming. And at once, Dmitri knew that something smug was about to come out of his mouth.

"Nothing's wrong? That explains why you sprinted into the store and nearly knocked over an entire rack of clothes," Tariq stated, arms crossed over his chest. I fucking knew it.

"Shut the fuck up," Dmitri snapped, actually turning around this time. And there they were. His siblings, the people who tortured him his whole life. Those two were synonymous.

Fuck. What do I do? They're coming in, they're coming in, oh my—

Sighing, Tariq took Dmitri's hand, his touch burning into his skin. And fuck, Dmitri didn't know what was wrong with him; maybe it was the blood rushing in his ears that was dulling his senses, but he didn't tell him to let go. He just let himself be dragged by Tariq, all the way to the trial rooms, where the two of them entered the same room, Tariq shoving him down on the chair.

"I'm assuming that your siblings have something to do with the havoc that you were about to wreck in the store?" Tariq questioned, but Dmitri couldn't really reply, heart still going away at his chest, thump, thump, thump, louder, and faster, and more painful with each beat. "Dmitri."

That one word was enough to cause Dmitri's attention to refocus from his pounding heart and pounding head to Tariq standing in front of him. "I don't think I want to talk about this with you."

Nodding, Tariq crouched down so that he was at the same level as Dmitri, before saying, "Did they say anything to you?"

"Not your business."

"Kind of became my business, after Zoya decided to interrupt your little sprint into the store."

As much as Dmitri wanted to, he couldn't lie to Tariq, not at that particular moment at least. After all, Tariq had saved him from an incredibly shitty situation that would have ended in a broken nose and a visit to the hospital. Not for him, though.

So, all he said was, "I don't know what you're talking about."

Tariq chuckled, shaking his head. "Don't be fucking dense, Dmitri, you're the one who went to college. Use that college graduate brain of yours, admit that you saw your siblings, panicked, ran into the store, and consequently ran into us. Wow, today's probably going really shit for you."

Well, fuck. "You're such an ass," Dmitri mumbled, their meaningless conversation somehow quelling the panic inside of him.

"My speciality."

Upon looking at Tariq up close, Dmitri realised that his skin was littered with freckles, tiny star-like dots sprinkled on his nose, barely visible, but still there. Why didn't I notice those before?

"Stop staring," Tariq instructed, rubbing his face down with his hand. "I know I'm hot."

"What if I was staring because you're not hot? Because you're absolutely fuckin' hideous and I just can't take my eyes off the disaster that is your face?"

The corner of Tariq's lips twitched at that, and for a brief moment, Dmitri felt like things wouldn't go to shit if they spoke to each other for more than five minutes. We can have a normal conversation, right?

"So... All the times we had sex," Tariq began, examining his nails and scraping off the chipped purple nail polish on them. Nail polish? "That was because I'm not hot?"

Dmitri shrugged. "You never know. Could've just been pity sex."

Finally, Tariq laughed, a stark contrast to his voice, clear and loud, not an ounce of hoarseness in it. "Yeah, no, it definitely wasn't pity sex."

Why did things with Tariq feel normal? They weren't supposed to feel normal.

Just as Dmitri was about to shoot back a reply, Tariq spoke again, with a soft, "Do you still keep in touch with your family?"

That wasn't what Dmitri expected. Not one bit. And typically, he would have snapped at Tariq, maybe told him to stop prying into his personal life. But today, he was really fucking tired. Today, he did not want to deal with another fight.

"Not really." He reached up to rub his face down, momentarily forgetting about the septum piercing he had put back in a week ago, cold metal touching his fingers. "They call, I don't pick up. I don't usually... This doesn't happen often— me seeing them in public," he finished. Don't ask me anything else. Please.

Tariq hummed, hand reaching out behind his body to touch the ground for support as he sat down completely, knees folded up to his chest. "That's good. That's—"

"Can you leave me alone?" Dmitri interjected, knitting his fingers together. "Please?" Why did I say that?

Eyes narrowing, Tariq frowned, small lines forming on his forehead, as they always did when he was confused. "What?"

"I want you to leave," he repeated, regret-filled blood pumping through his veins. What the fuck was going on?

"Are you fucking serious right now?"

Dmitri shrugged. "Wouldn't want people to think we're gay or something, right? Holing up in the same dressing room and everything?"

As soon as the words left his mouth, Dmitri regretted it.

Because holy shit, he shouldn't have said that, and he didn't know what was going on, and the pounding of his head was only getting louder, louder, louder, louder, louder, and there was no need for him to have said that, and they were having a normal conversation, and no matter how much Tariq had fucked up, he didn't fuck this one up.

Dmitri did that all on his own.

The concealed softness behind Tariq's eyes was instantly replaced by a stony gaze, rock solid, grating. "Okay, fuck you, Dmitri. Honestly, fuck you." Giving him a quick scan up and down, Tariq let out a small puff of air through his nostrils, standing up on his feet. "You know, in the three years that I knew you, not once did I think that you were a bad person. You were a lot of things, but the thought 'Fuck, he's a genuinely bad person' never crossed my mind. Not once. But now, you keep fucking proving me wrong. Every fucking time. You can go fuck yourself."

"Yeah?" Dmitri shot back, waves of pure rage rising in his chest, refusing to fall back down. "Ever wonder why I'm being a dick you? Or do you want to forget about that, too? Ignore that, too?"

My siblings are in the store. My ex boyfriend is in front of me. My ex boyfriend's sister is in the store. What the fuck is going on? Why don't I remember what I just said? Did I take my pills today?

Tariq nodded slowly, reaching over to unlock the door. Right as he was about to leave, he shot Dmitri one last look. "I know you're not a bad person. You're exactly the opposite of a bad person, actually. But right now? Right now, you're sure as hell acting like one. Have a great fucking day, Dmitri. Stay safe."

Then, he left the room, the door swinging behind him as he did. And all at once, Dmitri felt the ticking bomb explode within his chest. But this time, he couldn't even be bothered to tend to the damage.

Because this time, it was his own fault. Had it always been his fault? Like Tariq had said years ago?

God, he couldn't fucking think.

Pressing a fist to his mouth, Dmitri squeezed his eyes shut, doing everything in his power to prevent the sobs (or the screams) from leaving his mouth.

Just as he was about to call Eden, tell her that he needed out, needed an escape so that he could forget about everything for a minute, someone entered the trial room, crouching down in front of him for the second time that day.

"You're not a bad person, Dmitri."

Tariq was the only person who could tell him to fuck himself one second, and then reassure him the next.

"I don't know what I want anymore," Dmitri choked out, mind not functioning anymore. He wasn't sure if it ever was. "I don't know what the fuck I'm doing. Ri. I literally don't have anything in my life together."

The fact that he couldn't even find it in himself to care that he had just used his nickname for Tariq was mildly concerning, to be honest.

"I know. I know."

"I'm losing my fucking mind, I swear I am." This is Tariq. This is my ex-boyfriend. What am I doing?

"This is just a bump in the road," Tariq assured softly. "A tiny bump."

Oh.

When Dmitri didn't respond, mind reeling over every single thing that had taken place over the past ten days, Tariq reached out his hand and bumped Dmitri's knee, before handing him his phone.

"Listen to this, okay? It's a new song by this indie artist that you might like, it calms me down, so..."

—

+2283

AN: hello hi i have a playlist for this book, it's on my spotify (link in bio) and it's my pride and joy so check it out if u want !!!🥰

thank u all for reading. i love u. have a good day❤️❤️