The clock seemed to purposefully move as slow as possible as Tommy stared at it, cheek resting in his hand. He was tired and wanted lunch to come so he could go lock himself in the bathrooms and never talk to anyone again. 

Maybe not ever again but certainly not for a while. 

"What's wrong?" A familiar voice whispers into his right ear. Ah, there goes that plan. 

He turned his head slightly to see Ranboo looking at him wearing a look of worry. Rolling his eyes, Tommy answered "Nothing. 'M tired just." 

Ranboo didn't believe him. Atleast that's what Tommy could make out from his facial expressions but he just smiled and nodded anyway, leaving Tommy to do his own thing. 

A few minutes passed. (Tommy would know, he was staring at the clock the whole time‐ there was still twenty minutes until lunch.) 

"Ranboo?" Tommy whispered quietly, gaining the attention of the boy beside him, who hummed as if telling him to go on. 

"You have a mum, right?" He asked, not really concerned about people hearing as they were the only ones sitting at there table (which was at the back of the classroom.) 

"Yeah?" Ranboo replied confused and Tommy couldn't blame him. It was very weird and out of the blue for him to just ask that. Whatever. 

"Is she coming?" He asked. "To the show I mean." Tommy continued on, finally turning to look at the boy beside him. 

"Yeah. She booked front row tickets! She's been talking non-stop about it for weeks now, man." Ranboo replied with a smile forming on his face before it was changed for a look of confusion, "why? Is your mum not?" 

Tommy took a sharp inhale of air before looking away from Ranboo again. "My mum's not here anymore. She died when I was young, maybe three or four, I don't have many memories of her." 

"And your dad?" Ranboo asked. Bless him, not knowing any better. 

Tommy laughed, but it wasn't a nice laugh. It was sad and bitter, sounding like he was a water balloon ready to burst at a single touch. "He doesn't know I do theatre. God, I don't think he even knows what school I go to." He laughed, shaking his head sadly. 

"Tommy I-" Ranboo begun, only to realise that there wasn't any words he could say that would change any of it. All of this had happened, there was nothing really he could do except offer a shoulder to lean on. "I'm always here if you need anyone to talk. I don't do well with emotions but I'll always be willing to listen when others can't." He offered, watching as Tommy turned to him with a small smile on his face. 

"Thanks. That would be helpful." 

The first sign that something was wrong was when Tommy walked home at his usual time to find a car in the driveway. His dad doesn't get home until eight on a Thursday.. it's only six. 

The second sign was when the door was already open and he didn't have to use his keys. 

The third sign was when the rest his family was sitting at the dining table staring at him. 

The forth sign was when his dad waved him over, telling him to sit down. 

Tommy could feel the nerves spike in his chest and flow through the rest of his body. This had to be important, his family normally went out of their way to ignore his existance.. There was a reason he was a really good cook. 

But he still sat in the seat beside his brother, Wilbur, that his dad had pointed to as he was to scared to find out the consequences. He was nerve-wracked. What could be so important that they had to remember he was apart of their family too? 

"Thomas," his dad started, "I have something important to say and you are not to interrupt and nothing you say will change the outcome. Understand?" 

He just nodded his head, not bothering to correct his father on his name. He doesn't trust his voice right now anyway. 

"I'm not going to waste any time, I'm just going to say it. We're moving. To America." Phil said, staring straight at Tommy. And when Tommy didn't speak he continued, "your brothers and I think it's what's best." 

"So I don't get a say in this?" Tommy swallowed the lump in his throat, looking up to meet his father's eyes. 

"No. I'm telling you what's going to happen. We are moving tomorrow." He answered, a strict tone to his voice acting as though he had authority over Tommy. 

"That's bullshit." Tommy spoke confidently, trying not to let any ounce of fear into his words. 

"Excuse me?" Phil gawked. 

"You're excused. I will not be moving." Tom said, ignoring the way his brothers stared at him with such hatred for talking back. 

"I don't know who you think you are, young man. But you are my son and you will do as I say. We are leaving tomorrow and that's that." Phil said sternly. And wow, that's the first time Tommy's ever heard his father call him his son. 

"I an not your son!" Tommy shouted, standing up. "When's my birthday, Phil?! What age am I?" He asked staring at Phil, not really expecting an answer. When he didn't get one he continued on, "see?! You don't know and you don't care! I'll be twelve this week just so you know!" 

"Timmy, there's no need for that." Wilbur decided to jump in, defending his father. 

"Timmy?! That's not even my fucking name, Wilbur." Tommy spun around to face him, "don't try to defend him when you're just as bad!" 

"What? What have I done to you for you to hate me?!" Wilbur asked.

"Exactly! What have you done, Wilbur? Ignore me to the point you forgot I even existed? You're a right dick." Tommy spat. 

"Thomas." His father warned, a dangerous edge to his voice. "You are not to talk to your father and brother like that." 

"You're not my father and he's not my brother!" Tommy screamed. Why can't they understand that? "My teacher's in school know more about me than you ever will!" 

"Thomas. We are leaving tomorrow whether you like it or not. If you really don't want to move that badly then you can go into foster care. Maybe some abusive family would love to take you home as a punching bag." Phil said, temper finally lost. 

A deafening silence washed over the room, not even Tommy's heaving breaths loud enough to break it. 

"Foster care?" Tommy questioned quietly to himself. He'd heard the stories of kids going from one awful home to the next, tragedy after tragedy, horror story after horror story. The stories of kids never finding homes, aging out of the system at eighteen years old and starting of homeless, never making a steady enough income to support themselves. He doesn't want to be like them, but who's to say he'll get rewarded with a family that will love him? 

"You need to have your decision made by tonight, Thomas. Either way you need to start packing."