Chapter 2

Liam’s POV

Traffic is at its all-time worse in California, especially during the rush hours, but today it was different, way different than I anticipated, the entire street towards Olive Street Drive lay almost empty, with just a few cars flying past me. I turned off my ac and rolled the windows like a maniac. because who even opens their windows in the dessert at 98 degrees outside? Me.

I could still feel the heat wave in the wind brushing past my flushed cheeks, and across my sweaty forehead. I lick my lips, the taste of seawater lingered mixed along with the sweet flavour of sprinkles and chocolate.

summer is here in all her glory, which also means that the last day of high school is over. I start to drive down the familiar streets, I grew up in. Bruno Mars’s from the radio fills in with the whooshing sound of the air. The sun has almost disappeared into the horizon, splattering the sky with hues of orange and pink, like a painter’s brush accidentally spilling vibrant colour on a blank canvas as the city lights start to come alive. But It doesn’t take me long to drive into the suburbs of Los angles. I drive along the similar looking homes along the street, white walls, grey doors, a few flowers here and there, I drive down until I find the only house with the blue door. I pull into the drive way and bring the car to a halt. I check my phone, it’s just 6pm, I know I’m running late for the family barbeque night, but I can’t seem to move from my seat, I don’t know if it’s the exhaustion that has taken over me, or the peace and quite here. The smell of freshly cut grass still lingers in the air even after a week after me and dad cut it.

I take a deep breathe in and out, maybe it won’t be too bad tonight as the air has yet to carry the weight of the arguments.

I really wish I was over at nates or Sam’s but they both are busy with their own families celebrating their one way ticket to colleges as they both got accepted to the same university of their choice. they already received their acceptance letter a few weeks ago. but I have yet received mine. I try to not think a lot about it. But it just makes me wonder, I have the perfect grades and attendance and the perfect SOP to sell it. But I have not even received a rejection email from any of the universities I have applied to.

I wonder what the hell I am going to do with my life if I can’t even get into a decent college. I swiftly unbuckle my seatbelt and head outside the car and lock my car with the button on my keys.

I look up to see the familiar silhouette of the 2 story house loomed against the twilight sky, windows glowing warmly like watchful eyes in the dusk.

I walk towards the main door on a stone pathway across the front yards with grass overgrowing on the sides. Reluctantly I grip onto the door as I swing it open and stepped inside. my shoes squeaking softly against the dark wooden floor, and the comforting aroma of mac and cheese wafted through the air. Which was surprising since we were having a barbeque to celebrate my graduation. Surprising the entire house was quite except the sound of utensils in the kitchen. an unusual tension hung in the atmosphere, coiling around my chest like a constrictor, suffocating and tight as I walk into the kitchen to find non other than Jake cooking mac and cheese in his pajamas, ever since he came over for a week to spend his semester off from college he has been in a constant dreadful pajama streak, his dark hair a mess. Which is surprising as he has never ever been this way, he has always been the most high maintance guy in our family.

“Hey, Liam,” he says without even batting away his dark brown eyes as he stirred a bubbling pot, the steam rising like lost hopes into the air. His eyesbrows furrowed staring into the endless into the pot of brewing mac and cheese.

“How was the last day?” Jake’s forced smile which didn’t quite match his eyes, it felt like a mask slipping off too suddenly. And this is when I am worried.

“Fun. Just the usual. I thought you wouldn’t be home until later,” I vaguely answer,

a cautious note threading through my words. Something was off.

Jake sighed, glancing at the clock as if it were a judge holding court over their evening. As he scratches his head.

“I had some things to handle,” he said cryptically, dishing out steaming noodles into two bowls, the scent obscuring the subtle dread in the air. The half hearted humour he attempted to inject felt like a wilted flower, lacking life.

“You know how mom can’t resist making the mac and cheese from that blue box.” Jake says as he handed me a bowl.

I nodded, looking for a sign that this was just an ordinary evening. But I quickly realized that too much silence settled over Us as we ate, the usual banter absent. It was like watching shadows play on the wall, constantly shifting but never revealing the truth beneath them.

Later, our parents set up the backyard for a barbecue, an uncharacteristic atmosphere of calm drifting around us, almost surreal against the backdrop of a thousand scattered memories. I struggled to recall the last time we had all sat together without arguing—each moment etched in my mind like a photograph, now smeared. A voice within me whispered urgently that this tranquility was simply the calm before an inevitable storm, a deceptive stillness brimming with tension.

“Smells great, doesn’t it?” dad said, flipping burgers on the grill, the sizzling sound punctuating the silence like a cracked metronome. His cheerfulness felt like an empty shell, devoid of warmth. I forced a smile in return, as my insides tightening as i watched my parents’ forced laughter—a thin veil over the anxiety that trailed them like a ghost.

I watched as they moved around the yard, each trying to mask the tension with forced laughter. But their eyes told another story, one that stirred deep apprehension within me.

After dinner, as the fairy lights blinked above us like broken stars scattered across an indigo sky, My parents motioned for me and Jake to join them on the patio. The shadows stretched and twisted around nate as he took a seat, a heavy weight settling in my stomach, a stone lodged in my throat—foreboding.

“Liam, Jake.” mom began, her voice thick with emotion, like honey gathering in a jar before spilling over, “we need to talk about something important.”

Dad’s gaze swept over all of us, sincerity mingling with sorrow, an ocean of complex emotions swirling behind his eyes. “Sons, your mother and I... we've decided to divorce.”

The words hung in the air, heavy as lead, the truth washing over me like icy water from an unyielding lake. I sat in stunned silence, My mind spinning like a whirlwind, each tick of the clock echoing louder in the background. “Divorce? But…”

“We’re going to be living in different places,” dad continued gently, crafting each sentence like fragile glass. “Your mother and I have decided that she will move to the UK with you. I’ll stay here with Jake.”

A deep ache welled inside my chest, spreading like wildfire. Part of me found solace in the thought of peace—the endless battles, the shouting, the slamming of doors soon to be silenced—but a larger part of me was engulfed by dark sorrow. but that means I would have to leave behind everyone.. and the place I’d called home every day of my life.

“Dad…” I choked out, the truth heavy on my tongue. The words tangled up inside me, unable to take flight like tethered birds straining against the weight of their own chains.

Unable to bear the intensity of their gazes any longer, I fled from the porch, running to my room, breath coming in shaky bursts. my heart raced, thumping wildly as if trying to escape the tempest of feelings crashing down on me. I would lose everything.

But as I lay on my bed, squeezing my eyes shut against the encroaching darkness, I felt a soft knock at the door. It creaked open, revealing Jake, his face calm yet resolute like a lighthouse guiding ships through a storm. “I’m here, Liam.”

“Why is this happening?” my voice quivered, caught between confusion and rage, an unsteady tide. “It’s not fair.”

Jake stepped inside, a cardboard box tucked under his arm, an object of painful potential. “I know, I know it’s not fair,” he agreed quietly, setting the box down as if it weighed the world. “But sometimes, it’s for the best. This is a chance for Mom to start anew, and we can’t hold her back. I’ll help you pack.”

As we began to sort through my belongings, stacking clothes and trophies in the boxes,

Jake spoke in soothing tones, reminding me that he would always be there for me, even if they were separated by miles. “We’ll find a way to stay connected, I promise,” he reassured, but the thought of it felt distant, like sunlight peeking through clouds on a stormy day. but i already knew it was a lie, ever since Jake moved out for college he has always been distant and now the distance adds more weight.

The next morning, the world felt thick with heaviness, the air heavy as a blanket draped over me. dad even tried to converse with me but i refused to say a word as mom maneuvered the car through the streets toward the airport, the familiar landscape outside a blur of memories threatening to unravel. The radio played soft songs, their melodies catching in the back of my throat and suffocating me with nostalgia—the soundtrack of a life forever changing.

“Just think, you’ll be living in the house I grew up in,” mom said, trying to sound cheerful, her gaze flicking to me like a candle flickering in the wind.

But all I felt was emptiness—a hollow void where my childhood once flourished. The familiar streets blurred outside the window, morphing into an uncertain and daunting future. I saw Nate and Samantha in the airport who came to say goodbye—standing like pillars of steadfastness in the chaos, but the words of farewell floated away, evaporating before settling in the air.

“Don’t be a stranger, okay?” Nate said, his enthusiasm a forced mask, while Samantha hugged me fiercely, whispering, “We’ll visit, I promise.” Their words felt like lifelines thrown into a turbulent sea, yet I struggled to grasp them.

As me and mom boarded the plane, glancing back one last time, memories flashed before me—the birthday parties, the summer nights, the laughter that once filled the rooms now echoed hollow. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I pressed my forehead against the cool window, feeling the vibrations of the plane as it prepared to lift me into the unknown.

As the plane ascended into the sky, clouds swirling beneath us like a sea of cotton, I mourned the stark departure from the life I once cherished, acutely aware that whatever awaited me in the UK would never replace everything I had lost. Amidst the roar of the engines, a whisper of farewell brushed against my heart, urging me to remember that home was not just a place, but a tapestry woven with the memories and love left in wake.

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