Vance Hopper didn’t deserve love.

Especially not from you. You were…amazing. Perfect. Too fucking perfect. You were gorgeous, almost zero flaws in his eyes. While Vance would never dare admit any of this to you, yourself, he knew it was a certain truth.

You and Vance had been friends for years. Grown up together, hell, you bathed together. You had watched Vance mature into this violent monster that only hurt and hurt. Vance really thought that you were insane for sticking around this long.

And while you had walked together, out of school, the same route you always went to go to the Gas’n’Grab, Vance had had enough. He grimaced, and stopped walking. That had shut you up. You turned to look at him—asked if he was okay, and that was the final straw. Vance shouted, in a quick outburst, “Shut the fuck up!” Irritation leaking through his tone, he inhaled sharply before rubbing the bridge of his nose, his blonde curls falling messily in front of his face.