Luke's POV

I'm being dragged along to a Little League game today, and as much as I don't want to go, I have to. After what happened the other night, my dad doesn't trust me to be home alone. He doesn't want me to hurt myself or anyone else. So basically I have no choice in anything from now on. Not that I'd choose much anyways.

“You can come into the dugout or sit in the bleachers, whatever you'd like,” my dad tells me as we walk to the field. I'd like to go home, that's what I'd like.

I can see the annoying 12 year olds already. They're running around the field, probably telling mom jokes to each other or picking boogers. I don't really remember what I did as a 12 year old, mostly because it was my awkward phase. I don't like to look back on my long hair that flowed in the wind, thank you very much.

I walk towards the bleachers since I don't want to sit with a bunch of the booger pickers in the dugout. I sit close to the top, away from the few people that are watching the game. I watch the boys practice, and one of them falls flat on his face while running to give his friend a high five. That pretty much sums up my childhood baseball career, I did it all the time.

I honestly don't know why I played baseball when I was younger. Baseball isn't even an actual, big sport in Australia. There were a few leagues for younger kids, and there was even less once I got older. Sometimes I wonder if that's why my dad wanted to move here, so he could be more involved with baseball.

“Hey, Luke!” I hear someone say.

Please, no.

I see Ashton walking up the bleachers, followed by Delilah.

“Mind if we sit here?” Ashton asks, already sitting down next to me.

Yes, I do mind.

“See number 7? That's my brother!” Ashton tells me excitedly. “Today's their last game of the season! I hope they win!”

Ashton continues to talk, but I don't really listen. I stare at the spilled popcorn on the bleachers and zone out. I wish I was anywhere but here.

I look up from the dugout to see Delia waving through the fence. I go over to her and smile.

“Last game of the season,” she says, smiling widely. “You better win.”

“I'm so nervous,” I tell her.

“Why? You're, like, the best player!”

I feel my cheeks blush. “I'm just not feeling too good about tonight. Have you seen the other team?”

“Yeah, you can beat them though. Don't be so nervous. I can be your good luck charm. If you get nervous, I'll be here to cheer you on. Even if you lose, I'll still cheer you on.”

I laugh. “Just please don't yell my name when I go up to bat. I lose focus.”

“I can't make any promises.”

I roll my eyes. “You're lucky you're cute.”

She sticks out her tongue and smiles widely. “That's one of the reasons I was put on this Earth. On the seventh day God said, “There shall be a Delia to distribute her winsome looks and delightful smile throughout the world.”

“Why can't it just be for Luke Hemmings?” I whine, sticking out my bottom lip.

“You, Lucifer, are my universe. But you can't purloin me from the world, they need someone as fantastic as me too.”

“Luke? You okay?” I hear Ashton ask, breaking my thoughts.

I blink a few times since my vision has blurred. My sight refocuses, and I'm still staring at the spilled popcorn. I look up at Ashton, who is staring at me. So is Delilah.

“You zoned out for a few minutes. You looked so focused,” Ashton says.

I scrunch my eyebrows and rub my eyes, trying to get rid of the memory.

I hate when I get random flashbacks. They always come at the worst times, and they can happen anywhere. Just when I'm not expecting it, it comes. It messes with my brain and causes my mood to dwindle. Every time they happen I feel like I sink deeper and deeper into sadness, and someday, I'm not sure I'll be able to get back up.

I look around the park to distract myself and forget about the flashback. I count how many people are here so far. There's 17. I see a concession stand at the opposite end of the park and get off the bleachers.

“Where are you going?” Ashton asks.

Can't he just let me be? I don't get why I'm questioned for every single thing I do. I roll my eyes and point to the concession stand.

“Oh, I'll come!” Delilah says. “I was gonna go anyways.”

Great. Just who I wanted to be with. I don't like being around her. There's something about her that makes me nervous and angry and sad all at once. I think it's because she reminds me of Delia.

“Get me a hot dog!” Ashton yells as we leave.

We walk over to the stand in silence, which isn't surprising. I live in silence.

Once we get there, I notice how Delilah frequently changes the position she stands in while we wait. First she has her arms by her side, then crossed in front of her, than her hands are on her hips. It's like she can't find a comfortable standing position. I wonder if she knows that she's doing it. Maybe she's nervous about something.

“What do you want?” the lady at the counter asks me.

I point to the pretzel.

“Excuse me, what is it?” the lady at the counter says.

I pull out my phone to type the answer, but Delilah starts to order.

“We'll get a pretzel and two hot dogs.”

I'm taken aback by how she knew what I wanted. Most people get confused when I point to things because they're unable to tell what I point to. But she understood.

She looks up and smiles awkwardly at me as we wait.

“Is this the first game you've been to here?” she asks.

I nod.

I don't know why she's being nice to me, I've been nothing but rude to her. And I probably will continue to be rude. That's who I am. Being rude is easier than breaking down.

"Here you go. That'll be $4.50," the lady says.

I reach into my wallet to pull out money for my pretzel, this time I have American money.

"It's fine, I got it," Delilah tells me. Before I can pay, she gives the lady the money.

When people are nice to me, I start to question if it's pity. She probably feels bad for me. And she probably knows a little bit about me since she works at my therapist's office, which gives her even more of a reason to feel bad for me. I don't want people's sympathy.

We get our food and head back to the bleachers. Delilah points out different people at the game and tells me about them. So and so has an obsession with pickles, this guy has been married four times, that girl is from Italy. It's like she knows everyone. This seems like a close knit town. I'm an outsider, and I think I always will be. Just like everywhere else I go.

We watch the game, which is as boring as I remember it. It's just a bunch of boys trying to hit a baseball and running around the field. I don't understand how people enjoy it. I don't understand how I once enjoyed it.

The game goes on for almost two hours. My dad's team lost, which means Ashton's brother lost.

“Ashton,” his brother, Harry, says, “we lost!” He frowns and looks down at his feet.

“It's okay, you always have next year! I think you did amazing!” Ashton tells him, giving him a hug.

Harry shrugs. “I guess so.”

“Tomorrow you and I will go out for ice cream and do whatever you want. How's that sound?” Ashton says.

Harry's face lights up. “Really?! That'd be awesome!”

“It's a deal then. I'll see you tonight when I get home, and we can plan our day.”

“Where are you going?” Harry asks, pouting again.

“I told you... I'm, uh, hanging out with Delilah and some friends.”

Delilah raises an eyebrow at Ashton. I wonder what's happening.

Harry shrugs. “Okay, I'll see you later then. We're going out for pizza!”

“Have fun!” Ashton yells as Harry runs to his mom.

My dad comes over looking extremely tired. He rubs the side of his face and yawns.

“I am worn out,” he mumbles.

“It was a close game,” Ashton tells him.

My dad nods. “I've gotta go take the team out for pizza,” my dad tells me. I sigh. I do not want to go out for pizza with a bunch of annoying boys. I thought pizza was only for winners, anyways.

“Well, he can hangout with us,” Delilah says. “We're gonna be with a few friends.”

Ashton shoots her a wide eyed glare, and she just smiles.

“That'd be great! It'd give you a chance to meet some kids, right Luke? Go ahead, it'll be fun!” my dad says.

I glare at my dad. What's worse? 12 year old boys or people my age? I debate for a few seconds before my dad speaks up again.

“Have fun, Luke,” he says, walking away.

I guess I had no choice in that decision. As usual.

Ashton whispers something to Delilah, and she shrugs.

“We're going to a little party,” she tells me. “Let's go.”

*

A little party.

There's at least 90 people here, and it's not even that late. We shove through a bunch of people to get into the house, whoever the house belongs to. The house is huge. People are all over the yard, and there's even more inside. Loud music is blaring, and the stench of alcohol and sweat surrounds me.

I notice some people stare at me, mostly girls. Maybe it's because I'm new here. No one has ever seen me before. I'm used to being looked at like I'm different. I am different.

A girl runs out of the house, mascara running down her face. She's sobbing uncontrollably as she runs out. Her boobs seem to defy gravity as they bounce with each step. I try not to stare.

“Ashton! Delilah!” someone screams from behind me. “You made it!” I turn around to see a blonde girl with a beer in her hand. She's wearing a tight black dress that seems like it'll burst any second. She pushes through some guys and walks over to us, stumbling in her heels.

Ashton rolls his eyes and waves.

“Who's this?” she asks, looking over at me. “You're ca-ute.” She points to me and taps my chest weakly. She smiles and takes a sip of her drink, half of it missing her mouth.

“Kama, this is Luke. Luke, this is Kama,” Ashton mumbles. “Nice seeing you. Goodbye.”

Ashton grabs my wrist and pulls me away.

“She's extremely drunk,” Ashton mumbles.

No, really, I couldn't tell.

“She moved here three years ago. She used to hangout with us, until she became, ya know... That. Whenever she's drunk, which is a lot, she believes we're still friends. She's a clingy drunk. I'd stay away.”

I nod.

We walk through the house to the most crowded room. Delilah and Ashton say hi to a lot of the people, they definitely know a lot of people. I don't know if they're popular around here, or everyone knows once another.

I look around, taking in my surroundings. People are dancing on the table and making out all over the place. Two guys continuously slap each other in the face, screaming the whole time.

I hate parties.

I nervously crack my knuckles and run my hand through my hair. My anxiety is increasing every minute. We've only been here for about 20 minutes, and I already can't take it. I can't handle all these people and the atmosphere. The loud music has already given me a headache, and I can feel the beat in the pit of my stomach. It makes me want to throw up.

“Do you want a drink?” Ashton asks me.

I shake my head no.

I refuse to drink because I'm afraid that if I do, I'll get drunk and speak. And I can not talk. Ever. Who knows what I'd say if I were drunk. I could tell someone something personal, really personal. And that is one of my biggest fears.

After a few minutes of talking, Ashton and Delilah go off to do whatever. I don't really pay attention to where they went. I'm too busy trying to breathe. I stand in the corner of the kitchen, away from everyone. I try to calm myself, but I can feel an anxiety attack coming. I lean against the counter, resting my head on my hand.

“You okay?” some girl asks me, raising her eyebrows.

I wave her off, and she shrugs before walking away.

I am not okay. I will never be okay.

Kama walks over to me and leans against me.

"So, Luke, right? Can I call you Lukey?" she asks. She giggles. "You're so cute. I like that," she says pointing to my lip ring. Her finger touches my lip because she's so close, and I can smell all the alcohol she's drinken. "Wanna go do something?" She wiggles her eyebrows and laughs again.

I look away and shake my head.

"Oh, so you're one of those guys. Playing hard to get, huh?"

The kitchen becomes crowded as people lay on the counter and drink alcohol off each other. Everyone is screaming and chanting and laughing. I wonder how people can act like these. They're so immature and disgusting.

I've never liked parties.

I push away from Kama and walk away from here.

"Lukey, come back!" she whines.

I start to become light headed, so I stumble down the halls and try to find an empty room. I finally find one upstairs, after several awkward interferences with other people. I go inside and lock the door so no one can come in.

Breathe, Luke.

I check the time on my phone. 10:34. I've been here for almost an hour.

My heart is racing, and my hands are shaking. I sit on the edge of the bed and hang my head in my hands, trying to relax. My breathing is abnormal, and I'm sweating.

Now is not the time.

I can feel tingles throughout my whole body start to increase.

No, stop, please.

I can hear my heart pounding. It's louder than the music that continues to blare. Everything seems to get louder and quieter all at once.

My vision is blurry, fading in and out. I look at my hands, which are shaking uncontrollably. I feel like I'm in a daze.

This has happened before, a lot actually. When I'm around too many people, it happens. That's why I avoid being out in crowded public places. This is why I like to be alone. A few friends is different from a party of 100 people.

My breathing increases as I try to relax, but nothing is working. The music gets quieter, and then everything is silent. All I can hear is my heart racing. All I can feel is my shaking body. I feel like I'm stuck in an earthquake. Except the earthquake is myself, and there's no escape.

Why does this happen to me? Why do I deserve all this?

My thoughts become jumbled as I try to do what my therapist told me.

Count to 10.

I slowly count to 10.

It doesn't work.

Breathe in through your nose and out through your mouth.

I do that a few times.

It doesn't work.

I squeeze my fists repetitively, like my therapist told me. It makes me focus on something other than my panic attack.

I just have to let the anxiety run through my body. I can't do anything to stop it. It could last the whole night, or it could be over in a few minutes.

The violent shaking continues to increase. I need to stop this.

Xanax.

I fumble in my pockets for my wallet, looking for my pill.

C'mon. I have to have some in here. I always carry it with me.

I finally find it and quickly run to the bathroom that's connected to the room. Thankfully no one is in here. I swallow the pill with some water and sit down on the cold tile floor to let it sink in.

The symptoms slowly fade away.

It's 11:01.

There's a text from my dad.

Hope you're having fun. Be home by 12.

Oh, yeah. I'm having tons of fun. Just hanging out with my anxiety. We're having a swell time.

I lean my head back against the wall and squeeze my eyes shut. Finally, my body is still. I'm alright.

A light turns on, and I snap my head towards the bathroom door.

“Luke, are you alright?”

Why can't I just be alone?

Xanax is an instant anxiety attack relief pill if you didn't know. and if you were annoyed with the choppy writing during luke's attack, it's because his own thinking was choppy. if that makes sense. i hope it does?

who do you think came at the end? you shall see next update!

i hope you like this and thanks for 100k! ily tweet me what you think @fiannelash

-ashley

p.s. kama is my friend irl and she wanted to be in it so i made her a drunk and she's excited about that. i'm laughing. her twitter is @mcliffourd go tweet her that she's a clingy drunk ily kama