It was a sunny day. For most that's a good omen, but for Lucca it was not. Because sun meant no thunder. And no thunder meant football practice was on. And football practice meant Raphael and he wouldn't see each other, for most of the day.

“I don't understand why you can't just skip, you're not the captain, so what does it matter?”

“Come on, Lucca, I have to be there for my team! I'm not the captain, but I do like to think I'm fairly good at football, the team needs me!”

Yeah. He has to be there for his team, but being there for his best friend doesn't matter at all.

“I thought you said you didn't have practice today!”

“That was when we thought it was going to rain! But the day turned out to be so nice, and we haven't been able to practice lately, all my spare time needs to go towards football, for scholarships!”

“You can’t spend every minute playing football, I exist, too! I’m your friend!”

Wow. That got a bit emotional for a second. Lucca didn't really want to fight with Raphael, especially over stupid football.

“Listen, Raphael, just forget it. It's fine.” It wasn't really fine, this was the fourth time this month that Raphael had left him in the dust. “Really, it's fine. We can hang out some other time.” Lucca doubted that. But the relief in Raphael's eyes was evident, and Lucca was too tired to argue any further today.

“Really?! Thank you so much, Lucca, it really means a lot to me. How about we hang out Monday? I’ll buy you Wendy’s, is that alright?”

“Alright, alright.” Lucca held up his arms in mock defeat. “I’ll do it for the food.” Lucca never could say no to frosties.

“Great! I can't wait! Man, I wish we could talk more, but I've got to get to practice. I'll see you Monday, though!”

Yeah, right.

That's what Lucca felt like saying. Instead, he smiled and waved as Raphael turned his back on him, weaving his way through the steadily increasing mass of students filling the school hallway.

Maybe someday Lucca would go to one of Raphael's practices. Or at least a game. Is that the kind of thing a best friend does? Lucca doesn't know anymore. Back when they were kids, it was nice and simple. Just the two of them, along with their other friends, of course, but the two of them, they were inseparable. Like family. Lucca would spend days at Raphael's house, and those days were the best days of his life. Raphael probably doesn't remember a single one of them, Lucca thought bitterly.

“Lucca! I thought I saw you!”

Lucca turned from the fading form of Raphael, to see Laila, chipper as usual, smiling at him. Her eyes were bright blue and shimmering. Somehow, Laila always managed to see the bright side of everything. There’s no way anyone’s life could be that painless. Lucca considered taking lessons from her.

“Hey, Laila! I assume you're going to the football practice, or cheerleading practice or whatever?”

“No, actually, I'm free today, cheerleading is in the gym, so we don't care about the weather. Why, are you doing anything?”

Oh, dear. Was he doing anything? No, probably not. Return home and stare at the ceiling and hope no one calls for him. But did he want to do anything with Laila? No, probably not. He did love hanging out with Laila, even going on dates with her was relatively enjoyable. But, something about the prospect of being around people, even Laila, was just so off-putting, Lucca was tempted to say that yes, in fact, he was busy. But then he remembered Raphael. And how every time they made plans, Raphael made plans that were infinitely more important. So, why couldn’t he do the same?

“Yeah, I’m actually kind of busy today, but do you want to go out on Monday?” Notice the intentional use of ‘go out,’ rather than ‘hang out.’ The perfect boyfriend. Going out with his girlfriend, to get back at his best friend.

Laila very nearly lit up at that, and Lucca couldn’t help but feel slightly guilty, but brushed it aside, deciding that he was going on the date to make Laila happy, just also to make Raphael jealous.

“That sounds great! You wanna go to Wendy’s? Just something casual and then maybe head over to my place?”

Laila was making this whole revenge thing incredibly easy for Lucca, going to the same place where he and Raphael had made plans to go was likely to do even more damage, enough maybe to make Raphael realize all the mistakes he'd made when deciding whom he was spending time with.

“Yeah, that's what I was thinking, too, I can't wait to see you there!”

This entire “happiness” act was getting exhausting, how did Laila manage to put on a happy face all the time, at least when they were talking about dates?

“Well, great minds think alike, I guess! If you're busy now, I'll go see what Mia and Evan are up to. Are you sure you can't come?”

“Yeah, sorry I can't come, I really would like to hang out with you guys.” That was kind of true. Friends did bring out his happiest side, but at the same time, it was exhausting being around them, or anyone else for that matter.

“All right, I'll see you Monday, then, Lucca! Have fun with whatever you're doing!”

“Thanks, but I doubt it'll be that exciting. It's just… you know, school projects and stuff… that kind of thing. Anyway, I don't want to hold you up. Bye, Laila!”

“Oh, too bad. I'm sure you'll get it all finished though, you're great in school!”

With that, Laila hugged Lucca and gave him a quick peck on the cheek, which Lucca was surprised by, until he remembered that they were, in fact, dating.

The minute Laila left, Lucca relaxed the tension he didn't realize he'd been holding. Lucca knew better than nearly anyone else all the pain Laila went through, they’d been friends before they dated and Laila had told him everything that happened to her. And yet, almost every time they were together, she seemed so genuinely happy. How does that make sense? Lucca was just using the stories he found and documented as a reporter to make his acting more lifelike, so no one would ever suspect anything was wrong with him. Laila had told Lucca all of her problems, yet somehow, Lucca couldn't work up the courage to tell Laila his own, much less anyone else. He had been ready to tell Raphael, on that road trip, and that's how this all started! If only Raphael had gone with him, Lucca would have finally told someone his problems, he wouldn't have kissed Laila, he would have… he would have… he would have what?

Gone frolicking with Raphael into the sunset? Lucca sincerely doubted that was the way it would have worked. Most likely, Raphael would have bailed some other time, Lucca still would have kissed Laila, just because it was what was expected to be done.

Snorting to himself at the thought of frolicking into the sunset (because really, there was no fairytale ending for him), Lucca, too, left the school to go… somewhere. Not home, definitely not. At the moment there was no point in going there, his mother would be home, and Lucca didn’t feel up to more conversation- likely about how he needed to keep his grades up or how his sister had won another award. But it was fine, Lucca didn't need to go home, not really. “Home” is just a place to sleep anyway, and Lucca could do that anywhere. So he was fine! No need for anyone to worry about him, there was nothing for them to notice, and it didn't matter anyway. His problems didn't matter to anyone, they were busy with their own many problems, so why should Lucca burden them with his own? That's what Lucca told himself. But did he believe it? Almost.

After many more similar thoughts, Lucca finally began walking away from school, wandering aimlessly through the streets. Lucca didn't walk on the sidewalk most of the time, Penrith didn't have busy traffic, and even if he did happen to get hit, well, that would be that he supposed. Besides, he was too tired to walk over to the sidewalk.

Lucca always seemed to be out of energy as of late. He slept most of the time, because dreams are safer than reality, and even if dreams are terrible to you, they can't hurt you the way life can. Often Lucca would go straight from school to sleep, not bothering to eat or ‘tell his parents about his day’ (that’s what kids do, right?). And yet, it seemed that every time he woke up, Lucca only got more exhausted.

Shaking himself from his thoughts, Lucca looked around, only to find himself in front of Raphael's house. Not a big surprise, Raphael's house was often a place of comfort for Lucca. When Lucca was a little younger, and Raphael had been grounded, he would sneak over to Raphael's house in the middle of the night, and the two would whisper proudly of how they had evaded their parents' attempts to separate them.

Lucca smiled sadly, looking up at the home before him. It really was lovely. It was the way a home should be, with a parent and a child who care about each other so much, and it was so clear. Lucca bet Raphael’s dad asked about his day. And Lucca bet Raphael told him the truth. And Lucca bet Raphael’s dad actually wanted to hear the answer, and would give him advice when Raphael needed it, and comfort when advice failed. It made Lucca’s heart ache. It was Lucca’s fault that his parents and he didn’t have a good relationship anyway. Lucca could just talk to them, but would he? No.

Raphael wouldn't be back from practice yet, but Kurt Haynes might be in there, he always managed to be home in time to meet Raphael, because that's what a dad should do. Right?

Lucca turned his head slightly, enough to be able to peer into the Haynes’ house. Sure enough, Kurt Haynes was in the window, watching something on TV. Probably football. Lucca subliminally took a step forward, wanting so much to be able to be in there with him, cheering on whatever team was playing to victory. Lucca couldn't care less about football. But the prospect of being with a real father, someone who might ask how his day was- and actually care about the answer- was almost too much to pass up. Lucca stepped towards the gate leading up the Haynes’ home, then hesitated. Kurt was surely busy. He was enjoying himself at home, he didn't want to spend time with a teenage kid who didn't even want to spend time with himself. So Lucca backed away from the home, heading toward his own before stopping. If he didn’t want to go home, why should he have to? Lucca had an extra pair of clothes in his bag, and it didn’t have to be permanent. Just for tonight. A one-night runaway. Just to get away from problems he didn’t- couldn’t- think about. Now he just needed to do some quick-thinking to find a place to sleep.

As it turns out, Lucca was not adept at quick thinking when it came to his own well being. There were plenty of times when he was great at quick thinking. When he was working with Laila on a report, for one. But Lucca didn't care enough to even plan where he was going to sleep. Oh, well. Anywhere is better than home, Lucca thought to himself, as he sat down on the park bench that was currently “home” and the sun set behind Penrith.

The bench was most likely the most uncomfortable bed he had ever had the pleasure of using, Lucca soon realized. Sighing, he rolled over, trying to get comfortable, but only succeeded in rolling off of the bench entirely, landing with a thunk on the pavement below him.

“Great,” Lucca muttered to himself, rubbing his head painfully, “I'm probably the worst runaway to ever exist.”

It was in that moment that Lucca realized the true severity of his situation. He was alone, truly and utterly. He was sleeping in a park, with no one to turn to. There was a reason he couldn’t go home. But Lucca couldn’t think about it yet. It was all dark walls and infinite abyss.

Still on the pavement, Lucca turned over onto his back. It was completely black around him, night had taken over, and the stars shone bright around him, not even the moon was there to blot them out. They were beautiful and vast, pulsing and twinkling those many millions of light years away. He wondered what it took to be a star.

In that moment, Lucca wished for nothing more than to be a star, bright and shimmering and far, far away, but seen and loved by everyone nonetheless.

Star light, star bright,
The first star I see tonight,
I wish I may, I wish I might,
Have the wish I wish tonight.

Lucca knew he couldn't be a star. He couldn't be anyone else but himself. The thought terrified him.

‘I bet there's someone else wishing on these stars right now, too.’ Lucca thought to himself, ‘What right do I have to steal their star-wish for myself, on something so selfish? I bet they would have wished for world peace.’

But Lucca couldn't wish for world peace. All he wanted in that moment was to be far away, to be a star.

‘If I can't be a star, then I wish I could be on a star, the fiery giants that they are.’ Lucca wished to the stars above him, ‘At least then I wouldn't have to be me anymore.’

With that last thought, Lucca closed his eyes, finally blotting out the stars that taunted him with their freedom, and turning to the darkness that enveloped him, as it always did.

***

He was alone. But Lucca didn't feel lonely. He sat up and looked around. He was in the Haynes’ home, in Raphael's room, sitting on his bed. Raphael's room was so familiar, Lucca could make out the individual trophies and chachkies that littered his walls and desk, despite the darkness.

Lucca stood up, taking a closer look around the room he knew so well, it might have been his own. Feeling no sense of urgency, and having no reason to do anything in particular, Lucca walked to Raphael's desk, and began rifling through its drawers. In the second to last drawer, Lucca stopped. There was nothing in the drawer but for a series of letters.

They were all written by Lucca.

They were all addressed to Raphael.

They were all unopened.

Lucca's heart skipped a beat as he picked up one of the letters, tearing it open neatly. His eyes fell to the words written on the first line

“Dear Raphael,

I'm sorry it had to come to this.
I'm sorry that I have to say goodbye so soon. After all-- ” it read. Lucca put it back abruptly, not wanting to read any more of that letter. He picked up another letter, and began reading once again.

“Dear Raphael,

Before I say anything else, I want you to know that I managed to stay this long because of you.
I don't want you to--” Lucca dropped the second letter on the floor, he couldn't bear to read more of that one. Lucca picked up a third letter, and a fourth, and a fifth, and so on and so on, and they all were the same.

Suicide notes.

Each one handwritten for Raphael, by Lucca.

Each one unopened.

Lucca began to feel lonely. He looked around him, at the floor. Dozens of letters littered the once tidy room.

Raphael wasn't here. No one was. No one was here for Lucca.

Lucca sat on the floor, in the midst of his hundreds of letters, and stared at the writing blankly.

Raphael didn't care. He didn't care about Lucca's life and he didn't care about Lucca's death and no one else did so what did it matter if he stayed alive at all what did it all matter what did it all matter what did it all matter and why.

***

Lucca opened his eyes, slowly. Maybe dreams could hurt as badly as life did, after all.