Austin Carlile Imagine

                                    

                                          
Austin Carlile Imagine:
                          
Storyline: similar to the basic ass "_______ is my father???" ... this shit gonna be "_______ is my brother???" Mostly because of how young Alan is and I've already done the daddio ones. 
                          
---
                          
Age: 18 (graduated HS, Almost 19)
                          
Austin's Age: 24
                          
--
                          
"Hey ma," I sigh, closing the door behind me. 
                          
"Hey hun, how was school?" she asks, appearing from the kitchen with flour covering her apron.
                          
"Hell was fine, what happened in here?" I ask, chuckling. Suddenly she got really nervous and I cock my eyebrow, confused. 
                          
"Good talk, I'm gonna go to the shop to meet up with Kyle," I say, running upstairs before she can stop me. 
                          
I put on a sweatshirt over my band tank top and grab my music knapsack and skateboard before jogging downstairs, leaving the house, and skating to the music lounge I call my second home. 
                          
--
                          
"Hey Kyle," I say, plopping down on the couch seat next to where he's sitting. 
                          
"Hey (Y/N)," he says, going back to tuning his guitar. 
                          
We spend the next few hours running over our old songs and comparing/combining lyrics to make new songs, before my mum texts telling me I'm late. 
                          
"Gotta go," I sigh, standing up and stretching my legs. 
                          
"Your hand feelin better?" he asks, and I look at the blood soaked patches on my fingertips. 
                          
I accidently sliced my fingers on the guitar because of how dry it's been lately and I forgot to change the strings. 
                          
"Eh. I'll see you tomorrow, right?" I ask, putting my guitar back in its case. 
                          
"Yeah. Meet me in the morning?" he asks, and I nod. 
                          
"I'm leaving my shit here, don't forget to lock up," I say, and he nods, trying another note combination. 
                          
"Later Kyle," I say, kicking up my skateboard and deciding on taking the long way home. 
                          
--
                          
"Home!" I call, shaking my hand off as one of the cuts reopens. 
                          
"Honey..." my mom nervously says. 
                          
"Hey do we have any antiseptic? I-" start, but my dad cuts me off by clearing his throat. 
                          
Looking up to see a new man in my house, I lower my hand and place it in my pocket, looking at him with my eyebrows furrowed. 
                          
"Hello?" I ask, and he smiles. 
                          
"She's gorgeous..." he says. 
                          
"K bye pedo," I scoff, going for the door again. 
                          
"(Y/Full/Name) sit down and shut your lip," my mother snaps.
                          
Rolling my eyes, I sit in my usual seat and gesture for them to start talking. 
                          
-yet another goddamn time skip-
                          
"SO I'M A FUCKING ONE NIGHT STAND?" I shout, both of them wearing guilty looks on their faces. 
                          
"Forget this shit," I snap, running upstairs and packing a small bag of essentials. 
                          
I hear the door open and close, but instead of hearing less voices, I hear one more. 
                          
Rolling my eyes, I sling my bag over my shoulder and jog down the steps. 
                          
"Honey wait-" my mom starts, and someone grabs my bad hand, making me wince and yank it back.