Sixteen year old Charlie looked up at the enormous man in front of him, holding out a rolled fag. "No, really, I don't want that." They were very near to his school and he knew that if he was even tempted to take it, he'd probably be suspended for life. "I don't do drugs." He looked around, waiting for help. The man didn't move his hand an inch. Charlie tried to move past him, but the man blocked him. "Look, what do you want! I don't have any money!" The guy just smiled, saying something about how he didn't need to pay, he was just delivering purchased goods to Liam. Charlie swore. "Fine, give it to me. I'm gonna kick his arse."

Liam looked down at the dead pig in front of him. Ever since he had moved out his dad had been helping him with money on the condition that Liam, if help was needed, worked at the butchery from time to time. It hadn't been often that he had had to help, and in the beginning he only helped at the butcher's shop. But today he had to halve freshly slaughtered pigs for the first time in his life. "I'm sick." he said looking at his dad.

Charlie tucked the five blunts down into his pocket as fast as he could, before brushing past the guy. "Look, don't do this anymore. Go find Liam, because you're fucking me over with this." He said, storming back inside the school. He sneaked passed the teachers and slipped into his class, where Will and his friend Patrick were waiting for him there, eyebrows raised

There was no feeling sick or not, Liam knew that far too well, he had to do this job or his source of money would run dry. No money meant no drugs, no alcohol, no birds; and Liam couldn't go without all those anymore. He had to bite the bullet.

Charlie growled at his friends, but said nothing intelligible as they took their seats at the back of the class, Will, Charlie, and Patrick. Always in that order. The teacher came to collect homework and Charlie stuffed the joints deeper into his pocket, trying to be non-chalant. Patrick noticed though, and once the teacher was away, he turned on Charlie. "Its just shit for Liam, don't worry about it."

Clenching his teeth, Liam cut off the head of the pig and made two halves out of the body. As soon as the dead animal's pieces were taken away from his workplace he ran off to the toilet. This was gross. "Fuck it! You have to go through this, wanker." He told himself. But this clearly wasn't fun. And it didn't help his already far too little appetite. He was sure he couldn't look at any food for the next few days - not that he could do so much anyway since he had started doing heroin over a year ago.

School dragged along, and finally, the bell rang for the end of the day. The three boys walked together, as always, but this time, their conversation strayed to Liam. "I should just throw these away, waste his money like that." Patrick laughed, but Will just made a comment how it would be a waste of whatever it was. "So what? What are we going to do, smoke it? Just to spite him?" Will shrugged, but Patrick stopped walking and looked at Charlie. "I was just kidding mate. I don't do drugs." But the idea had been implanted.

After he was released from work, Liam more or less dragged home. At work, in his dad's presence he wouldn't dare to smoke - let alone do any drugs. He still felt horribly sick. Somehow this needed to stop; he had to find another way to earn his money. Maybe he could ask Charlie, refresh the idea of their own band? He had suggested this before, three, maybe four years ago.

A block from Charlie's house, Will and Patrick pulled him aside, saying they should smoke the joints. "Mates, we don't even know what's in them! Will, you know all the shit my brother does. They could be laced with something deadly." Will just slipped his hand into Charlie's pocket, and drew one of them out. He smelled it, saying it looked like plain weed to him. Patrick pulled out a lighter. "Shit, he's gonna fucking kill me." But he lit the joint and took a deep hit.

The first thing Liam wanted to do at home was to smoke a joint and forget about all those dead animals and blood. but, Fuck, he didn't have any left. Letting himself fall onto his sofa he remembered that he should have got a delivery today. He hadn't been home, but hadn't known he'd have to work until this morning. Fuck! What might have happened to his stuff?

Charlie let the sensation hit him. it wasn't unknown, he'd smoked before, but he wasn't sure this was just weed. But he didn't feel any different than when he'd been high before. So he passed the joint to his friends, and closed his eyes while each of them took a hit. He took it back from them, inhaled once more, and handed it back. Soon it was done, and the world had suddenly become fuzzy. "Hm... not bad." He said, laughing a bit. Patrick started laughing for no apparent reason and Will giggled behind his hand. "Come on, lets go home." Charlie said, leading the way.

Liam decided to call the guy he got his stuff from to ask what happened to his stuff when he hadn't been there to accept his delivery. Learning that Charlie had his stuff made Liam actually worry. He had started doing drugs when he was younger than Charlie was now, but still his brother was too young for this. Liam hoped Charlie hadn't used his stuff.

They tried to get the smell off them best they could, but it didn't cling as much because they were outside. Still, they walked through pine trees and took off their coats before they entered Charlie and Liam's house. Charlie kept his hand in his pocket as they slipped into his room. Once there, they began giggling again, quieter now. "Shit, we're so fucked." Charlie said, collapsing on his bed. "My brother's gonna fucking kill me if he finds one is missing. Serves her... I mean... him right."

Charlie had come home, Liam always would hear him, he was used to certain sounds so he could tell. He waited for a bit before he went to Charlie's room, he didn't want the situation to look too obvious.

Charlie was sitting on the bed, Will sprawled next to him and Patrick slumped on the floor, playing with Charlie's guitar. "Leave it alone, you'll break it, you fucking... something." Charlie said, rolling his head onto Will's chest. When Liam came into the room though, it went silent. Charlie looked at him skeptically before saying slowly, "yeeeesss???"

"Erm..." Liam didn't actually how to put it in the presence of Charlie's friends, but asking Charlie to come outside wouldn't have been better either. "Well, first I wanted to ask what happened to the idea of having our own band... and second: d'you've got something for me? Oh, and third, Dad says Hi." Liam knew Charlie wouldn't appreciate the latter, but he had only been the messenger.

Charlie rolled his eyes. "Yeah... hmm.." He fumbled around in his pocket and pulled out two of the remaining 5 joints. "These you mean? Yeah, thanks for almost getting me suspended." He growled. He then registered the first question. "A band? Why do you want to start a band again?" He said slowly, trying to get his mind to focus.

"Aye, these I mean, shouldn't they be more? Didn't mean for you having them, wasn't home, sorry, had to work." Then he sat down on the floor, not minding the others to listen anymore. "Band? Because you're bloody talented boy and you've gotta show that to the world, mate!"

Charlie ignored the second answer, handing over the two joints. "This is what he gave me. Why, did you pay for more?" He said slyly, kicking Patrick as the boy giggled slightly.

This was an awkward situation. What should he answer? Well, "yes" would be definitely the truth but... Yeah, but... But what if Charlie was right and he had only been given those two? No, wait, Charlie couldn't be right! Only few minutes ago he had been told that 8 - eight - joints had been given to his little brother, so Charlie was holding back six. Or had they been smoking them? three boys 6 joints? Liam was actually worried. "Erm, yeah, I did." he finally said.

Charlie shrugged mightily, then slipped off the bed, laughing. "You obviously got cheated by your dealer then... tsk tsk." He said sneakily. "Why, what was in them? How much did you have to pay?" He said, looking up contently at Liam's face.

"That's non of your business, mate. And just give me the rest, I know you do have them. And if only one's missing, you're gonna get into trouble my dear!" Liam replied looking sternly into Charlie's eyes. Liam thought it wasn't fair; Charlie was getting at him like this and ignored his other question. He wanted to show interest in his brother, his music, but was pushed off.

Charlie rolled his eyes, crawling back onto bed. "And why should I believe you? I say I only got two, so I only got two. And I still don't see why you want a band..." he said, mind mixing thoughts. "you already have a job. and an addiction." he finished cheekily.

"And what if I don't like that job? And what if I want to see the world? And... You shouldn't waste your music for the drawer!" Liam sighed, if he would get along with Charlie's friends he could have asked them to support him. "Anyways, I've been calling the guy only some minutes ago and he assured me, he gave you all eight of them. So?"

Charlie just grinned smartly. "So what?" He lay back with his head on Will's chest again, knowing it made his brother uncomfortable. The drugs were making him feel light and springy. The look on Liam's face was hilarious too. "And I've told you about the band. I do... I mean, write music for my own good. Not anyone else’s."

Liam was uncomfortable. Those subjects being discussed with Charlie's friends around wasn't easy already, but Charlie's head on Will's chest... He had had to see this often by now, but he never got used to this. "Fine, keep the joints, but they're no kid stuff, mate. And don't get caught with them." Then he turned around to leave. "And about the band... it's sad, you know, you could have given the world some really good music." He happened to meet Patrick's eyes when he went outside and he could see that this guy did think that way about his mate's music as well.

As Liam turned to leave, Charlie fished out the joints, spreading them out in his fingers like cards. "Too bad I don't really want these all that bad." He said softly, passing one to each of his friends and keeping the other five splayed. He sighed though. He wanted to give his music to the world, of course he did. But another part of him was terrified about what would happen if Liam was in his band.

Liam went out of the room, not caring anymore whether Charlie had those joints or not and whether he kept them or not. If - as Charlie had said - he didn't really want them, he'd give them back some day anyway. But that Charlie wanted to keep his music to himself , bothered Liam more. Sure in the first place Liam had thought about himself and his sex-drug-rock'n'roll dream when suggesting the band today, but it wasn't really a lie that he thought Charlie should share his music...

He took another joint and put the other away, but didn't light it just yet. "Didn't I just say like, fifteen minutes ago that I don't do drugs? I am so fucking weird." He giggled. Will laughed with him, but Patrick suddenly looked solemn. He asked why Charlie didn't want to share his music with anyone. Charlie shrugged in response. "Sometimes you just get lost in it, and it isn't about the music anymore."

Liam went back into his room and locked the door. He tucked one of the two joints Charlie had given him in his package of normal cigarettes and lit the other. He stretched onto his bed, staring at the ceiling.

Charlie lit Patrick’s joint as he pondered Charlie's answer. Will sat up, kissing his boyfriends neck once, whispering that he thought it would be hot to see him on stage like that, singing his heart out. Charlie shivered, but said nothing. He took the joint from Patrick and took a hit, before giving it back to him. "I dunno. I just don't want to turn out like all those bands that just crashed and shit because of drugs. I just want to enjoy life for what it is, you know?"

Liam didn't know how to imagine real band life. Frankly, his mind really was fixed on "Sex, Drug & Rock'n'Roll", but wouldn't they find their way? Other bands had made it as well - from the garage to the stadiums. If others could do that, why shouldn't they be able to? And hadn't those other guys of their area made it just a year ago? Started playing in little clubs now having their first album, Definitely Maybe or something like that?

"Besides," Charlie mumbled. "My brother wants it for all the wrong reasons. He wants the fame, the girls... he doesn't care about the music at all... he'd just screw it all up." He let himself fall back into Will's arms, and Patrick put on a fake grossed out face. "Oh shut up you." Charlie giggled.

Liam got up, taking the guitar he had in the least used corner and going back to the bed. It had a thick patina of dust. Liam ran his finger through it, sighing. Maybe he had to give up on the idea and just go through the tough life of being a butcher. The mere thought of all the blood made Liam choke.

Charlie picked up the guitar beside his bed and even in his hazy-mind state, his fingers immediately found the chords and he began to play. Patrick immediately began to finger drum on his own knees, and Will just smiled watching them, not having any musical performing talent at all. The music rang out from Charlie, making him smile until he played the last note, when he just flopped over, laughing. "I'm so tired." He said, giggling behind his hand

The thought of blood, the rebuff, the fuzz with the joints... all this slowly made Liam aggressive. And the joint.

Patrick laughed hard, coughing as he inhaled smoke accidentally. Charlie just giggled nonsensically, before getting up slowly and saying "I gotta use the loo...", stumbling into the bathroom and pissing into the porcelain bowl. He washed his hands and splashed some water on his face, looking at himself in the old dirty mirror. "Shit, I look like crap."

Liam only recognized how angry and aggressive he was when he felt something warm run down his palms. He opened his fists noticing blood. As fast as the locked door allowed Liam ran out of his room towards the bathroom. When he heard Charlie commenting his reflection he added: "And you smell like shit, only it wasn't shit, it was bloody expensive good stuff. You shouldn't have done this."

Charlie opened the door, staring at Liam. "I shouldn't have done what? Stopped you from taking drugs and getting yourself so fucked up you couldn't go into work tomorrow? Yeah, Liam, its fine for you to get high but not me?" He turned back to the mirror, splashing more water on his face.

"You're only sixteen mate! Now go away, I need to wash my hands." Liam growled pushing Charlie aside. He let the water wash away the blood to make visible where it had come from. He had clenched his fists to tight making the fingernails go through his skin.

Charlie looked at his brother's bloody hands, eyes wide. "Shit Liam, what did you do?" He leaned against the closed door and lifted a hand to bite at one of his nails. His hands were trembling

"Oh, fuck off, you don't care anyway." He began rummaging through the cabinet, searching for some band-aid. He couldn't find anything and started chunk out the contents of the cabinet furiously.

"Shit Liam" Charlie stumbled, going to the cabinet and getting out a roll of ace bandage, grabbing Liam's hand and beginning to wrap it. "You did this to yourself? If you wanted the blunts so fucking bad, you could've hit me, not yourself."

"It's not about them, it's about everything! I fucking hate this world and it fucking hates me right back." Liam felt awkward with Charlie wrapping his hand. Charlie didn't care about him; or at least Liam pretended Charlie didn't; so this didn't match Charlie.

"Then why do you keep going as you are Liam? Why don't you take a step back, get your head in order, and try a new approach?" He finished wrapping his brother's hand, tying it as gently as he could.

"Then why do you keep going as you are Liam? Why don't you take a step back, get your head in order, and try a new approach?" He finished wrapping his brother's hand, tying it as gently as he could.

Charlie scoffed. "Well, I wouldn't think so, but you never really bothered to go to university, did you? Or even try to go." He sat on the toilet, looking at Liam. "This isn't anyone's fault but yours, bro."

Liam started laughing sarcastically. "Uni... university... uh ha, yeah, right." Liam raised his brows. "But you're gonna go there, right, because you're sooo great, aren't you? Charlie, how many labor class guys do you know who go there?"

"Yeah, just because everyone else can't do it means you can't either, that’s it, right mate? This is why you can't be in a fucking band mate. You want to just fit in. You are too afraid to stand out and make your own proclamation, make change and show that the little guy can stand up. That’s why you aren't in Uni, not because you are labor class. Because you accept the standard." Charlie spit out, before he could stop it. He sat there, breathing ragged as his mind cooled.

Liam breathed in deeply, as if to get air for reply with a long fast talk, but instead he just breathed out sighing. "Are we done lecturing?" Maybe Charlie was right, but now it was too late anyway and no one had ever made him think about it this way before, and it should have happened in his childhood in order for him to be in Uni now, so actually, this talk of Charlie was useless.

"Only if you're done listening." Charlie said, walking out of the room, head spinning. He hated when Liam acted like his life was all laid out for him, that he just simply had to follow the idea set out before him, instead of taking charge of his own life.

Liam watched Charlie walking away and rolled his eyes. "Guess I am." he called after his brother before walking out of the bathroom as well and heading to the kitchen.

Charlie glared in Liam's direction one more time, before crashing through his door into his room. "I hate him." He breathed. "He's such a prat. Has to have everything his way. Fucker." He flopped down on the floor, ignoring the pain as he hit it hard. Patrick winced, and asked what had happened. "You don't want to know..."

In the kitchen, first thing Liam did was to get the pills he had hidden in some cupboard, some strong tranquilizers that he had snatched last time he had been at his mum's. Right now, with him being aggressive enough to hurt himself unconsciously, they seemed exactly what he needed and better than weed and heroin. But he also had something completely different in mind: It hadn't really hurt, when he had digged his fingernails into his palms. Maybe it was just as easy to cut his wrist??

Charlie rolled over onto his side, eyes closed as tightly as they would go. He then opened his eyes, looking at his knuckled. There were scars there still from hitting them against the wall so hard the skin had split. Reminders of the pain Liam had caused him. "Stupid selfish bastard."

Holding the pills already in hand, Liam's eyes were fixed on the drawer with the knives. He just stood there, breathing in and out deeply, staring at the drawer. He felt blank, like thinking about nothing at all and everything at the same time.

Patrick sighed, putting his hand on Charlie's shoulder. Suddenly, everyone was sober. Will inched closer to him. He laid his head down again, this time on Will's calf, and started humming to himself. After a minute, he closed his eyes to fight the burning, then said softly "I don't know how to help him."

Liam dropped his head and closed his eyes. He needed to focus, but he couldn't. "Help me, Charlie." he murmured, well knowing that Charlie being in his room wouldn't hear him. Then he suddenly dropped the pills and ran out of the apartment.

Charlie heard a door slam and looked up. "Um...?" He said simply, and his friends got up. They pulled Charlie to his feet and peered out the door, looking for Liam. "Think he left?" Charlie asked, but both his friends just shrugged. They looked around the apartment and when it became clear that Liam wasn't here, Charlie just shrugged and tottered back to his room, flopping on the bed. "I don't even want to care right now."

Liam was still running at first but got slower and slower as he meandered through the neighborhood. He had become scared all of a sudden and the thought of Charlie had him finally give up the idea. If he had killed himself, Charlie would never feel sad but he would be angry and nothing but angry about him.

Charlie just sat there, and as the clock hit five, Patrick announced he had to leave. Charlie and Will both waved him goodbye. Charlie curled into a ball, and Will wrapped his arms around him, whispering about how fucked up their families were. Charlie just laughed. "Yours is just angry. Mine is dysfunctional."

He had already been walking around in the dark for some time before he went home again. Liam felt empty, only empty. He wasn't - for the first time in weeks - even in the mood to go out tonight. He hated those phases when it was obvious that his ex-girlfriend had been right about him being depressive.

Will and Charlie sat on Charlie's bed, arms wrapped around one another. He felt dreadful, and rested his head on Will's hard chest. "I don't know what to do. I can't make him do anything, but I want to help him. I'm afraid something really bad is going to happen to him." Charlie mumbled. Will just kissed his temple and told him that Liam had to make his own choice about his own life. There was no making him see what he didn't want to see.

Liam went through the front door as quiet as possible. He had left earlier loud enough, there was no need he'd have his return known that way as well. He went to his room and flopped onto his bed, face buried in the pillow. He didn't want to live anymore, but he didn't want to leave his brother alone either - and he wasn't brave enough anyway...

Charlie felt Liam enter the house, more than heard it. It was as if the air got tenser. He lifted his head, and looked towards the door. Will sighed, untangled his arms from Charlie, and told him to go. He had to leave anyways. Charlie looked at him questioningly, but nodded after a moment. Will left, asking Charlie to call him after. Charlie got up after him, walking slowly to his brother's room and knocking lightly.

Liam didn't feel like answer and he wouldn't need to anyway because Charlie would come in no matter what. He didn't want to talk or anything, didn't want anyone to bother him, but at the same time he wanted Charlie to be with him.

Charlie opened the door slowly, then just stood there, stupidly. He didn't know what to say. After a minute of awkwardness, he started edging towards Liam's bed, before losing control of himself and wrapping his arms around Liam in a tight hug.

Liam didn't know what to say - and he still didn't feel like talking anyway - this felt awkward, but good at the same time, he decided to just indulge in his brother's presence as long as he could.

Charlie sat himself on the bed, looking at Liam. Suddenly, it didn't feel as if words were necessary. He just hugged Liam again, watching his reactions, and hoping he was giving at least a little comfort.

Liam turned around in Charlie's hug to lay on his back. He didn't care if Charlie saw the slight wetness in his eyes. "I'm sorry." he whispered.

Charlie didn't say anything. He just curled next to Liam on the bed, arms still around him. He didn't want to say anything, because words would surely ruin this moment. He buried his face in Liam's side and just side, wiggling a little.

It was moments like this that kept Liam really alive; knowing that they still cared about each other despite all quarrels they had. They were brothers and they would always stick together. At least, Liam hoped they would.

I remember feeling like this a lot. Feeling mad at Liam for being selfish or acting stupid, then immediately feeling guilty. I guess the bad guy doesn't always have to be the bad guy. He can also be the victim. I picked up drugs for Liam a couple of times after that, before he made the guy stop giving them to me. I never stole them again. Maybe Liam needed his drugs for more reasons than his own peace of mind or pleasure. So I let him have it. This was before things got out of control, mind you. After that, I couldn't really forgive him. Then again, I couldn't forgive myself either.