It was Saturday night, and Rickenberger was throwing a party - his parents were out of town and he had invited all the Cobras and "some hot chicks" as he had put it, and it sounded like fun, or more precisely, Hawk knew it should have sounded like fun, but somehow it just didn't.

Nothing sounded like fun to him anymore. Fun was something other people had, people who still had a heart, who still knew how to do this thing called life.

He didn't want to go, but fucking Hell, he couldn't spend the rest of his life crying alone in his room or beating the crap out of the punching bag and his fellow teammates at the dojo. He had a reputation to uphold. He was the fucking Hawk, he didn't care about anything. So he told Rickenberger that he would be there, slammed the door behind him and left without a word to Dad. In the minimart he would pick up something that would make it easier to fake a smile, that would take off the edge of the pain that was fucking killing him, and Hell, who knew—

Maybe he would meet some hot babe at the party, and bang her brains out. That at least would make him forget, even for a little while.

He had just picked up a six-pack of Bud, some breath mints, and condoms when he noticed Nicholas standing by the freezer, staring at the contents, his hands stuffed deep in the pockets of his faded jeans.

Hawk felt a lump in his throat. Under the harsh, flickering light of the store, Nicholas looked tired and sad and ten years older than Hawk had remembered as he kept observing the Ice Cream flavors, clearly lost in his thoughts.

"Sky likes Cherry Garcia," Hawk said before he could stop himself.

Nicholas turned to look and as he recognized Hawk, his jawline went tight.

"I know what my daughter likes. I hardly need your help with it," he replied bluntly and picked the cherry flavor without even glancing at Hawk again.

There was a void in Hawk's chest. He hated the way Nicholas turned his back on him as if they were complete strangers now. He drew in a sharp breath, trying to push away the feeling of his ribs being crushed under a weight he couldn't understand. Fuck that, why did he even care?

With stiff shoulders, he walked to the register and laid the six-pack of beer on the counter next to the condoms and the breath mints, and asked the guy to give him one large bottle of vodka to go with them. His fake ID did the trick once again, and he walked out of the store holding the beers in one hand, the vodka in the other, condoms and breath mints in his pockets, as if everything was fine and good, trying to fight the horrible emptiness that was crushing his chest.

Nicholas caught up with him in the parking lot.

"Eli, wait–" he said, and made Hawk turn around.

"What?"

"What's with all the beer? Are you going to a party?" Nicholas asked, nodding towards the beverages.

Hawk let out an annoyed sigh, opened his backpack, and stuffed the beer cans and the vodka bottle in it. "Yeah, I guess. What, you gonna call my Mom and tell her about this?"

Nicholas sighed and shrugged. The Ben and Jerry's tub was in a plastic bag that was hanging from his fingers, and Hawk wanted to tell Nicholas that he should just go, that the ice cream was melting, that he shouldn't keep Sky waiting, and that it made no fucking difference if he called his Mom or not - Hawk was way past caring if he disappointed his parents.

"Sorry, I know it's none of my business–" Nicholas said and looked up. "--but your face– what happened?"

The bruise was big, it was turning yellow and blue around the edges, and Hawk knew he looked like he'd been in a streetfight. He didn't really care, though, because Dad looked even worse and that was the only thing that mattered. He was glad Mom was still out of town, though - he hoped the bruises would fade before she returned. He was prepared to lie to everyone about what had happened, but he knew it wouldn't work with Mom. She would take one look at his face and see right through his lies.

And then she would be upset and she would cry, and Hawk didn't think he could take that. Not now that everything was going to Hell as it was.

He hated it when Mom cried. That's why he hadn't even told her that Sky had dumped him.

"It's nothing. Just a training accident," he replied, holding Nicholas' stare without a flinch.

Nicholas tilted up his chin. "You sure about that?"

"Why do you even care? It's not like I'm your kid, is it?" Hawk rasped and threw his backpack on his back in one angry motion.

Something was breaking in his chest, he was choking on the bitterness that threatened to overwhelm him. He didn't want Nicholas to care, he didn't want his pity. That man was no one to him anymore, all that had been before (You're an exceptionally fine young man. Were you my son, I would tell you that every day.) was gone, it was broken, it had been a fucking stupid lie and he had been an idiot to believe in any of that.

But what did he care? He was the Hawk. He didn't need Dad, he certainly didn't need Nicholas.

Angrily he pulled the helmet on. Nicholas tried to say something, but Hawk didn't even turn to look at him. He started the bike and took off, so fast that the tires screeched.

The night was dark, but not as dark as his heart.

_____________________________________________________________________________

❤️🙏🏻❤️🙏🏻❤️

😅🙏🏻