Reposting "Nowhere We Know"
Chapter 3 should be coming at you sometime over the weekend, so I'm gonna go ahead and repost the first two chapters. Aside from the first chapter, the rest will be in sections, because LJ has a maximum post length. So, anyway... here it is again...
Nowhere We Know - Chapter 1
Mistakes & Regrets
By Violet Jones
“We will go nowhere we know, we don’t have to talk at all.”
- Beck
“If I made a list of my mistakes and regrets, I’d put your name on top.”
- And You Will Know Us by the Trail of Dead…
*****
I wasn’t really thinking when I did it. I just found myself there. Looking at him. Wanting him. An irrational thought permeated my brain telling me to just leave. Get the hell out of dodge, but take him with me. I could leave everything else behind, but not him. I’d go out of my mind if he didn’t come too. So, I asked him. And to my surprise he let me take his hand and lead him away. It was one of those moments in life where everything literally slows down and everything seems palpable, like you could reach out and touch the energy. It was a moment of truth. And it felt so good.
**********************
How the fuck did this happen? I found myself on autopilot, following the last person I ever thought I’d be following. I’d made a promise to myself never to get stuck in his trap again, but there I was. I had no fucking clue where we were going, and I didn’t care. I have no idea what made me do it, but I just knew that I had to. I knew that I’d do what he asked of me. I felt so comfortable with the whole crazy situation, because all of a sudden I was with him. Again. I hadn’t realized how much I really missed him until he took my hand and led me away. Where exactly we’re going, I have no idea. I’m not so sure he does either.
**********************
June 2003
I’ve been working like a dog since the summer started. I’ve kept myself busy that way. When I’m not working at the diner, I’m drawing, painting, and manipulating images on my computer. I’m trying to be as productive as I can be. I don’t want to have any time on my hands to think about what’s lacking in my life at the moment. Namely a boyfriend. It sounds pathetic, but I miss having someone around. I have friends, and I trick occasionally, and I keep busy, but I still get lonely.
It’s mostly because of the memories. What I had, what I lost. What I did, and didn’t do. But, I don’t dwell on those memories, those thoughts. I don’t try to fix everything in my head, and I don’t wallow in self-pity. He wouldn’t want me to, anyway. Not that I’m doing it for him. Or, not doing anything for him. It’s just that I don’t want to be sullen, and morose. I want to be happy. So, whatever happiness I can get on my own, in this little world I’ve created for myself, I take it. I refuse to let tragic sentiment rule my life.
I have my own apartment now. It feels so good to have my own place. I never really thought about the upside to living alone, but I’ve found that it definitely has its perks. And even though I get lonely, I like this solitary existence. Not that I’ve shut myself off from everyone. I still see them plenty. I mean, I still work at the diner, and they’re always hanging around there for some reason. And I have friends from school. They come over sometimes, and I go out with them every once in a while. For the most part, I like the time to myself. I think it has something to do with growing up.
The other day, I was talking to a friend of mine who saw this special on like the Discovery Channel or something, about how when you’re a teenager, you use a small part of your brain that you never use again after you reach adulthood. You start using a completely different part of your brain. That means that suddenly your mind starts to open up to new ideas and possibilities, and that your perspective shifts. I mean, essentially you’re still you, and you still have your views and principles, but you start to dismiss your old ways. You just grow out of them. So, because I’m 20 years old, this change is starting to take place. And who knows, maybe I’m totally reading too much into it. Maybe it doesn’t have all that much to do with anything right now, but I think it fits as part of the explanation. Why I’m so ready and prepared for life, and so fucking scared and unsure all at the same time. Being alone helps me to work it all out in my head.
Brian used to say that I overanalyze everything. But, that’s bullshit. It really is. He wrote the handbook on how to overanalyze any given circumstance. The thing is, he doesn’t let you know what he’s up to. He retreats into himself, and refuses to pay attention to anything else. Not me. I try to figure things out piece by piece. On my own time. I don’t obsess over figuring out all the answers. I just let it be. I just am. Brian has yet to figure out how to just be. To fucking calm down for a second, and stop creating scene after dramatic scene. He deals with so much shit. Like, not only his own, but everyone’s. Lucky for him, I’m one less person he has to take care of. One less person that he has to think about, and mull over agonizing situations for.
He must feel good about that.
********************
It doesn’t make much sense anymore. Any of it. The show goes on. The routine continues. I go through the motions, basically, but it’s slowly building up to a point where I can’t take it anymore. A point where I can’t just keep going like something’s not missing. Like I didn’t screw up the one shot I had at something good and exciting. Something that could keep me on my toes, and make my life meaningful. Lately, I’m not finding much meaning in anything. I mean, I’ve always been pretty apathetic, but it’s getting ridiculous. And it’s not even like I’m in a bad mood all the time, yelling at everyone, or anything like that. It’s just that I don’t fucking care. I just find myself there. Doing whatever I’m doing. It doesn’t really feel good, or bad, it just is.
I don’t like the feeling. It’s so unnatural. That’s what really gets under my skin. It’s unnatural for me to be floundering like this. Like I’m walking a fucking tightrope, and I know I’ll fall, but which way, and does it even matter? I don’t think anyone has even noticed. Or they just don’t care. Justin doesn’t care, that’s for damn sure.
At no point in time did I ever really stop and think about Justin not being in my life. I mean, obviously we broke up. Things were bound to be quite different after that, but I didn’t think it’d be like this. I didn’t think he’d slip out of my life, and not care what was going on with me. I mean, from day one, he’s always cared about me. Even when all I wanted was for him to wise up, and not fucking give a shit. But now, it sort of appears that he’s done that, and it kills me. At first, I found ways to keep him in my life. Even if it was only vaguely. He was there. And now, even when I see him it’s like it really doesn’t matter that I’m there. He could take it or leave it, just like I could take or leave any fucking thing I do lately.
I know what that means. I fucking know. It means that I still care about him. And it means that I still care about the way he feels about me. What a revelation. Note my sarcasm. Of course I care. But it really really pisses me off that he can’t see that. That he won’t even try anymore. What happened to the persistent kid that loved me no matter what, and would do anything to stay by my side, and in my bed for just as long as I would allow? What happened to that kid? He’s gone.
Maybe that’s what happens. I mean, he’s 20 years old now. He can’t stay the same. He can’t be the 17-year-old golden boy forever, can he? If it were up to me, I’d put us both in a homoerotic version of Neverland where we’d both stay the same. No one else around to bog us down. No worries. No violin players. No tricks. Nothing. Just us. Us the way we were for that short period of time after he recovered from the bashing. That short amount of time when we were so obviously happy. And he so obviously loved me, and I loved him back. What happened to that? How can it all just disappear like that? Like nothing ever happened. Like there was never a thing there to begin with.
What a fucking lie. It was there. It was. I was there, and he was there. We were there, and we should still be there. And since we’re not, I don’t fucking care anymore. About anything. And I’m not being childish about it. I’m really not. I’m just stating the facts. I’ve tried to get over it. I’ve tried to forget about it. I’ve tried to live my life the way I did before he invaded my life, and my head, and my heart. But, as hard as I tried, nothing worked, so I stopped making the effort. I sort of gave up. And it’s not the first time. You’d think a guy like me would keep going and going until he absolutely got everything he wanted, but I don’t. I’ve given up many times. Especially where Justin is concerned.
He’s always been the offense. I’ve been the defense. He goes for it, and I fend him off. That’s how we operate. That’s what we do. And now that he’s finally given up, I don’t know what to do.
What do you do when you’ve both given up?
************************
I’m three hours into my shift when the usual suspects saunter in. I glance at them, and continue wiping down the tables in the back. Deb immediately heads over there to take their orders, so I don’t bother to go near their table. I make my way behind the counter, and begin refilling the condiment bottles, and the sugar containers.
I feel his eyes on me, and it makes me nervous. Why is he looking at me? It finally gets to me, so I look up, and straight into his eyes. He doesn’t bother to look away, like I thought he would. He just keeps staring at me. And it shakes me. It really rattles me, and gets under my skin. I let out a long breath, and look away.
I go around to the tables replacing the condiments and the sugar. I conspicuously save their table for last.
Emmett’s in a chatty mood.
“Hey, sweetie. How are you doing?” he greets me, kissing my cheek as I lean over to place the ketchup and Tabasco near the other end of the table.
“I’m fine,” I answer, smiling brightly.
“What have you been doing lately? I hardly ever see you.”
“I’ve just been busy. You know, drawing, painting, stuff like that.”
“That’s great. Are you planning on staying in the Pitts for the entire summer?”
“Um, I don’t know. I haven’t really thought about it. I don’t really have the money to go anywhere.”
“I understand, sweetie.”
I figure I’m free to walk away, once I place the sugar next to Brian’s coffee, but Emmett babbles on.
“You want to come out with us tonight?”
I turn around, thrown off guard.
“No thanks. I have plans.”
“You can’t stay home painting all night. You need to have some fun!”
“Yeah, Justin,” Ted chimes in. “You should get out of your place for a while.”
“Well, I actually wasn’t planning on staying home. I have plans with someone,” I admit, trying my best not to look at Brian.
“Oooh!” Emmett claps. “ Sounds like a hot date!”
I can’t help but smile at his enthusiasm. “I guess.”
“What do you mean, you guess? Dish, baby!”
“It’s just this guy I met the other day. No big deal.”
“Whatever you say. If you end up seeing him again, I want to meet him.”
“Maybe.”
“Have fun,” Mikey says.
“Yeah, have lots of wild sex afterwards,” Ted adds.
“I’ll try,” I smile again.
This time when I walk away, nobody stops me.
**********************
I can’t help thinking about it. I try not to. I really do. As indifferent as I am to everything else, you’d think I’d be able to pretend to be indifferent about Justin being with someone who isn’t me. I mean, I know Justin. He isn’t one to go without sex. I know he’s had a lot of it with a lot of guys since he and Ethan broke up. Not that I like thinking about him fucking Ethan. I hate that more than anything, but this bothers me immensely. Justin doesn’t operate the way I do. Hence the “going out” thing. He dates people. I just fuck people. And I know that a date doesn’t mean “long-term relationship”, but if there’s talking involved, there’s a much better chance of something like that happening. Losing anonymity isn’t a good thing. Hence the stupid rules Justin and I had.
And to know that he’s out there freely kissing all these guys, and letting all these guys get a taste of him, and his perfect ass. It makes me seethe.
FUCK!
I turn from the bar abruptly, and make my way to the backroom. I think someone was in the middle of an interesting anecdote, and I hear my name being called as I retreat, but I don’t turn around.
I lean back against the wall, and some guy comes over, and tries to kiss me. What a fucking idiot. I thought everyone had figured out by now that I don’t kiss anymore. It’s been that way for a while.
I push his head down before his lips reach their destination, and he kisses my neck. He unbuttons my shirt, and licks his way down. I zone out after that.
Why the fuck does it have to be like this? Why doesn’t Justin care? What made him stop caring? Was it me? I mean, I never asked him to care in the first place. I never encouraged those feelings. I did my damnedest to discourage them. So, why did it suddenly work? What was it exactly that made him quit? What was the last straw?
I feel the guy sucking my dick, and it feels alright, but I don’t care. I don’t care if I get off or not. I don’t care about any of this.
I push the guy away from me, and put my cock back in my pants. Button up my shirt halfway, and make my way out of the backroom. I’m in no fucking mood to stand around not really listening to the idle chatter of my friends, so I head upstairs and lean against the railing, idly scanning the crowd below. I immediately recognize the blonde head bobbing up and down in close proximity to a darker blonde head, grinning ferally. I can’t see Justin’s face, but I can tell he likes this guy… or at least, he really wants to fuck this guy. And the guy really really wants to fuck Justin. And the guy is hot. Pretty damn hot.
FUCK!
Of all the places the little twinks could’ve gone, they had to fucking come here? Justin knows… well, I guess he doesn’t care, does he?
**********************
I didn’t want to come here. Obviously. I knew the boys would be here, and I suspected Brian would be too. I tried to convince Troy to go somewhere else, but he insisted. So, I figured, what the fuck? It’s not my problem if Brian sees me. I’m sure he doesn’t give a rat’s ass anyway. As for the prospect of seeing him with some guy… what else is new? I’m so used to it by now. Sometimes I still get that pang… the jealous kind, but it doesn’t really have the same effect it used to. Being jealous over Brian fucking random guys is futile. He’ll always do it, why let it affect me? I have no right to let it affect me. So I ignore it. If he feels anything like that when he sees me with someone else, good! I’m fucking glad! Maybe then he’d know what it’s like to be me watching him. But I know he doesn’t get that way over me. Not anymore.
Luckily, there have been no run-ins tonight. I spotted the boys over by the bar, but no sign of Brian yet. Maybe I’ll get real lucky and not see him at all. Maybe I won’t be here long enough.
Troy is really hot. He’s 22, and he has amazing green eyes, and long dark blonde hair, and beautiful pink lips. His smile is killer, he’s tall, and well-built… no bulky muscles, he’s just really toned. His arms are really strong, and that is such a turn on. It reminds me of someone… but anyway, Troy is really hot, and he’s grinding against me, and it’s making me hard.
I feel his lips latch on to my neck, and his hands slide down my back to squeeze my best feature.
“You have the greatest ass,” he tells me in a husky voice, not moving away from my neck.
Fuck, I’m so turned on.
I met Troy a few days ago in the park. I was sitting there drawing landscapes, and next thing I know, he’s sitting next to me, talking away. If it weren’t for his total hotness, I would’ve been pissed at the interruption, but how could I get pissed at that face? And he wanted me, and he asked me out, and of course I wasn’t going to refuse. So, here we are.
Some guy bumps into us, just as we’re about to kiss, and we move away from the rowdy group of people we were next to. I look up to see him smiling at me, and I smile back, and I go for the kill. We stand there making out, and all I can think of is getting him back to my place. Screw the date.
I run my fingers through his hair, and pull away.
“Let’s get out of here,” I tell him.
“Your place, or mine?” he asks knowingly.
“Mine. You drive.”
He smiles, and leans in to kiss me again, and that’s when I notice him. I look up and see Brian leaning against the railing, glaring right at me. And I realize that he’s been watching this whole time. And I don’t know how to feel about that. I mean, this is twice in one day I’ve caught him watching me. He never watches me. Most of the time he pretends like I’m not in the room when he sees me, so his actions today have been a little off-putting. I hesitate for a few seconds, before I respond to Troy’s kiss.
“You lead the way.”
********************
I lie awake in bed all fucking night. What a miserable night. I can’t get these thoughts out of my head. I tried to force them away, and I even tried to keep my eyes closed for a while, and drift off. I put on Sigur Ros’ new album, and that didn’t work either. Just reminded me more of Justin.
Justin and that fucking guy. That good-looking blonde guy with roaming hands who was salivating all over… When he put his hands on Justin’s ass, I was so fucking mad. I wanted nothing more than to storm downstairs, and rip his arms off for thinking that he could just do that. Put his hands on that ass. On MY ass.
FUCK!
I know I have no right to get all possessive, and that’s why I didn’t kick that guy’s ass into the next century. I just stood there, helpless. On the outside looking in. And I hated it. I could feel every muscle in my body tense up, and every neuron in my brain throbbing from the anger and the hurt. It was like this dull ache. This pull from somewhere deep down inside me.
I wanted to hurt someone, namely the kid with the nimble fingers touching my… my what? What the fuck is he to me anymore? Nothing. Not a fucking thing. Whether I like it or not, that’s the way things are. And that’s the way they’ll stay, I suppose. And I don’t know where that’ll get me.
I can just imagine what’s going on right now in an apartment downtown… little Justin riding that asshole’s long hard cock. Moaning in pleasure when it goes in deep.
I can picture the face he makes every time my cock hits him just right… the little hisses and sighs that escape his mouth. The way he would get so excited, and scream my name, and squeeze my ass, and kiss me hard, sucking my soul from me. Taking it into him. I know every little thing he does when he’s fucking. I know it better than I know anything else in this sick sad world. The way he puts everything into it, and his body shakes, and the look on his face displays his passion so freely.
I love making him feel that way. I love fucking him more than I love doing any other thing. I love how it makes me feel when I’m inside him.
I hate that someone else is doing that to him right now. And I fucking hate that I’m jacking off just thinking about him.
Pathetic.
**********************
I wake up feeling refreshed; like I just had the best fuck I’ve had in a long long time. And I did. Troy is no slouch in the sack. Not the best, because I’ve had the best too many times to count, but Troy was close. He was really close.
Brian’s face haunted me all night long, but that didn’t stop me. I let it linger in the back of my mind, and just accepted it. Resigned myself to knowing that Brian was always there. He told me so the first time, and it stuck. It really stuck. And after the encounters I had with him yesterday, it was impossible not to think about his face.
But I still enjoyed myself. I still had an amazing time. With someone else.
Troy is like practically perfect. I mean, from what I can tell. In between rounds last night, we talked a bit. And he was smart, and funny, and comfortable. He was easy to be with.
I glance over at his sleeping form, and study the contours of his back and arms. The bronze tone of his perfectly tanned skin. I study all of his features from this angle, and memorize them for later. I’m too damn lazy to go get my sketchpad. Plus, he might freak out if he wakes up mid-sketch, and think I’m overly enthusiastic about him. I don’t want that.
After I gawk for a while, I close my eyes again, and try to think of a way to proceed. I really like this guy, and I want to see him again. Maybe we could go out on a normal date where events and conversations actually take place before we hit the sheets. I think it could be good. And I think he likes me too. I hope he does. This could be just what I need.
“What are you smiling about?”
My eyes snap open, and I feel like I’ve been caught doing something really embarrassing when I thought no one was around.
“Last night,” I say, recovering quickly.
He smiles back at me.
“It was pretty fantastic, wasn’t it?”
“Beyond fantastic,” I amend.
“So, when are we going to do this again?” he asks.
Score! I think my smile must be a mile wide.
“I am so glad you brought that up,” I admit, rolling on my side so I can lean down and kiss his luscious lips. “Let’s do it again whenever you want.”
“How about right now?”
“You say all the right things,” I say as he rolls on top of me.
A couple of hours later, I let Troy drop me at the diner. I get there a bit early so I can gorge myself before my shift starts. And since timing is always a bitch, I get there just as the boys are ordering brunch.
“Honey!” Emmett waves, “Come sit with us.”
He actually knows that I’m here early. He knows my fucking schedule. That’s how much time these people spend here. It’s crazy.
For some reason, Em, Ted, and Mikey are all crammed into one side of the booth, while Brian is stretching out across the other side… meaning that I have to sit next to him, which I suppose is good, because then I can avoid looking at him, without it being too obvious.
I walk over to the booth, and say hey to everyone, and I look at Brian, and he pauses purposefully before lowering his long legs to the floor, and facing his body in the proper direction. I slide in, and brace myself for the onslaught of questions sure to come.
4… 3… 2… 1…
“Soooo… how great was the sex you had last night?” Emmett inquires.
“How did you…”
“We SAW you, sweetie! Dancing with that hunkalicious blonde. I know you two did not dash out so quickly, without even talking to us once, just so you could rush home to show him your stamp collection.”
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
“Yeah,” is all that comes out.
“Yeah, what?” Michael asks.
“I’m sorry, what was the question?”
“How was the sex?”
The question startles me, because it comes from my right, and the voice sounds like Brian’s. And I can’t believe that he would force me to look at him by asking that question. Even if it wasn’t his idea to begin with.
I turn my head to look at him tentatively, and answer as honestly, and as simply as I can.
“Great.”
“Great?”
I nod.
“That’s high praise coming from him,” he states, looking at the others. “He has unbelievably high standards.”
“Me?” I snort. “You make every guy feel completely useless and inexperienced right after you’re done with them. They start gushing, and you get bored, and insult them. You have the highest fucking standards of anyone on this continent!”
“That should tell you something, shouldn’t it?”
“What?” That really throws me off. WAY the fuck off. Him and his fucking innuendoes. Usually, they’re the bad kind, but that… THAT is the best insinuation I’ve ever heard! Praise from He-Who-Does-Not-Praise.
He smirks his little smirk, like he always does, and it makes me want to smack it right off his face.
“You heard me.”
Smack the grin off his face, and punch him in the balls.
“Riiiight,” I say looking back at the three men in front of me, who are now wearing baffled expressions. Shocked, amused, what-the-fuck expressions.
Luckily, Deb appears, and cracks some lame jokes, and laughs up a storm, and she takes my order, and serves the guys their food, then disappears again.
And much to my chagrin, the questions start up again.
“So, what’s his name?” Em asks.
“Troy.”
“How old?” Ted asks.
“Twenty-two.”
“What’s he do?” Michael asks.
“He’s a philosophy major at Carnegie-Mellon, and he’s like a mechanic.”
“A mechanic?” the three of them say at once.
“Yeah,” I chuckle.
“That’s so butch!” Em gushes.
“And hot!” Ted adds.
“Totally,” Michael agrees.
“When are you seeing him again?”
“Tonight,” I say quietly.
“Two nights in a row?” Em inquires in a shrill voice. “Honey, he’s a keeper!”
“Definitely,” Ted amends.
“Totally,” Michael repeats.
“Maybe,” I mumble.
********************
Swell. Just fucking swell. Brilliant, dazzling, wonderful, fine and dandy… fucking swell.
MOTHERFUCKER!
Of course… I spend the night harping on my stupid insecurities about Justin, and when the light of day hits, my fears are validated. Turns out, I had every reason to be apprehensive. Justin’s gone and found the perfect man.
I try to tune out the rest of the conversation the Idiot Trio drum up with him, but my ears won’t cooperate. They pay close attention to every word.
“Where in the hell did you find this guy?”
“In the park. I was sketching, and he sat down next to me on the bench, and started flirting.”
How fucking hetero.
“Philosophy major… he must be smart, and intellectual.”
“Yeah, he is. He’s really interesting.”
Interesting my ass, you just liked the guy’s cock.
“He must love you. You’re so adorable, and smart, and funny. You’ll reel him right in!”
Jesus fucking Christ on a stick!
“We just met. It’s not that serious.”
You tell that nelly queen. Fuckin’ A, they’ve only known each other a couple days.
But what happens when they’ve known each other for a couple of weeks, or a couple of months, or years even? Fuck… I mean, really, what’s to stop him from settling down with this Troy person?
I mean, two fucking nights in a row? What the hell is that shit? They just met, so why do they have to be all together so quickly?
“You never know. He could be Mr. Right.”
I’ll probably walk in here tomorrow, and boom… I’ll see them cuddling in a booth, whispering, and laughing, and being all intimate, and cute. And I’ll want to heave, and throw punches, and yell “FUCK YOU” at the top of my lungs, and steal him away. But I won’t do any of those things. I’ll just pretend like it’s not there. Like I don’t give a shit. You know, the usual.
But, fuck… I really do care. I don’t want Justin getting involved again. I mean, lucky for me, Ethan turned out to be an asshole. But what if this guy is really what he appears to be? What if Justin slips even further away from me than he already has, and really moves on? What the fuck would I do then?
“I don’t know.”
Why does this have to be so hard? And why do I have all these goddamn questions in my head with no answers forthcoming?
He has no idea what he does to me. He just soldiers on in his happy little world where I don’t matter. What a prick.
************************
After an agonizing breakfast, and a long-ass shift, I feel completely exhausted. I didn’t get much sleep last night, and I’ve been stressed out all day for various reasons. Mainly reasons to do with Brian.
I can’t remember the last time we’ve been so uneasy around each other. I can’t even remember the last time he seemed to actually give a shit about anything concerning my existence. So, the stares from yesterday, and the little off-the-cuff comment from this morning have me wondering if maybe there’s something going on with him. Like, why the sudden interest? He sure as hell couldn’t be bothered to care in the months that have gone by since I broke up with Ethan. He manipulated that relationship, and we had our run-ins with each other, but as soon as Ethan was out of my life, Brian just stopped trying. He didn’t make an effort, and by that point, I had no desire to make an effort either. I mean, he was such a bastard about the whole Ethan thing. Why would I want him in my life after all the things he said to me?
Anyhow, I’m too tired to think about any of that right now. Christ, I’m like fucking Scarlet O’Hara… “I can’t think about that now, I’ll think about that tomorrow.” And in the end she was too fucking late. But, whatever. That was a tad melodramatic if you ask me. I mean, Rhett was so nonchalant about letting her go. And I always hated the music that goes along with that scene. It gets all happy. That kind of thing just doesn’t happen in real life. People don’t come to sudden realizations like she did, and rush home to declare their love only to find their lover walking out the door. In real life, it’s not that fucking dramatic. It’s not a big production. That movie was so frustrating.
As soon as I make it back to my apartment, I throw all my shit down, toss off my shirt, kick off my shoes and shuffle sluggishly into the bedroom. I collapse onto the bed, burying my face in the pillow, intent on sleep. It washes over me almost instantly.
Slowly regaining consciousness, the faint sound of knocking becomes louder and louder, until my eyes fly open, and I recognize that someone is at the door. Noticing the lack of light filtering through the windows, I glance at the clock and see that it’s already 9:30. What the fuck…
Half-asleep, I wander out into the living room, making my way to the door. I just want the fucking noise to stop! I throw the door open harshly, and my mouth opens before my brain can even register who it is standing there.
“WHAT!”
“Hi. Did I wake you? I thought I was supposed to meet you here…”
“Hey, Troy,” I reply, rubbing my eyes, feeling slightly remorseful about my outburst. “I’m sorry. Come in.”
I stand aside, and he tentatively steps past me, as I swing the door shut.
“You look cute,” he says with a smirk, taking me unawares. I look down to see that I’m only wearing a pair of jeans. And my face must be wearing a silly dazed and confused look. What the hell is cute about that?
I smile anyway, shaking my head, and heading to the kitchen.
“Do you want anything to drink?”
“No thanks, I’m fine.”
I pour myself a glass of water, and gulp it down in seconds flat.
“So… I guess you’re not up for going out…” Troy says, awkwardly standing in the middle of the living room looking unsure of himself.
“Not really,” I admit. “You got a problem with that?” I smile deliberately, arching an eyebrow at him.
He smiles back brightly, “None whatsoever.”
He walks towards me slowly, and takes my face into his hands, capturing my lips in a fierce kiss that makes my knees wobbly. My hands find their way to his hips, and I pull him closer to my body, pressing against him willfully.
Breaking the kiss, I take his hand and pull him into the bedroom, intent on making this another fun-filled sleepless night.
********************
Goddammit… another sleepless night for me, spent idiotically pondering the state of affairs between me and my ex. And I still can’t get the picture of him and Mr. Perfect out of my head. I keep seeing flashes of the two of them entwined, having fabulous sex. It’s agonizing… I want it to stop.
I tried to avoid this plague by opting out of Babylon tonight, in favor of Dial-a-Dick a.k.a. My Little Black Book. I didn’t want to risk the chance of seeing a variation of the scene I witnessed last night. I thought that was what triggered the restlessness.
The trick was good. Well, satisfactory. He was pretty what-fucking-ever in reality. But it kept my mind, among other things, occupied for a while. Though I’ll admit that visions of Justin were dancing in my head at regular intervals. It made me want to scream.
And now… now I wouldn’t have the energy to scream if I tried. I feel drained. Sucked dry. Completely useless.
How many times have I found myself lying here, staring up at the ceiling beams, blowing smoke rings, and watching a thick cloud form high above my head? I always do the same thing... I focus on the smell, the motion of my hand, the scratchiness of the cigarette between my fingers, the way the smoke rolls over my tongue, and fills my mouth, then my lungs as I hold the smoke there momentarily, before expelling it. Then I repeat the process.
It’s a method I use for distraction when I’m anxious, or thoughtful. It allows me to kind of step back from everything in my head, and then shift viewpoints when my mind switches back to its previous ruminations. In some fucked-up way, smoking clears my head, and gives me new insight about the problem.
I’ve been contemplating just picking up, and leaving town for a while. Taking some much needed vacation time, and getting away from everything. It seems logical to me. Maybe it’ll clear my head, and put everything in perspective.
I can’t believe I want to run away so I can sort myself out. What an absurd idea. I’m supposed to be the one who takes whatever comes in stride, and marches to the beat of his own drummer, and simply doesn’t give a fuck, and all that other bullshit. Strange as it seems, though, never before have I felt such an urgent need to escape.
Now that I have the ‘Vette, what better way to really break her in than to take her for a nice long drive to the middle of nowhere… or maybe, some other thriving metropolis that isn’t good ol’ Pitts. Hell, anywhere but here sounds nice. If I can’t have a permanent change, temporary is the next best thing.
Yeah… the more I think about it… it really sounds like a great idea. A perfect solution. I’ll pack a small bag, grab a jacket, and get the fuck out of here.
But first, there’s just one thing I have to do.
********************
For the second time in a matter of hours I awake to the sound of relentless banging on the door. What the fuck? Why am I so popular all of a sudden?
I grimace, and try to bury my head in the pillow, hoping whoever the fuck it is will get lost before I come and kill them with my bare hands.
“Are you going to get that?” a sleepy voice rasps next to me.
I groan loudly, and sit up, glancing at the alarm clock.
5:30 in the fucking morning!
Holy shit… I hope there’s not some crazy emergency!
I quickly jump out of bed, and practically run to the door, throwing it open, while asking, “What’s wrong?”
But the person standing before me is the last person I ever thought it would be. He looks startled, and sleep-deprived.
“Nothing’s wrong. Sorry if I scared you.”
He looks me up and down, and laughs uneasily.
“What?” I look down, and realize I’m naked. Fuck. I turn around, and spot a blanket on the back of the couch. I scramble over to grab it, wrapping it around my shoulders.
“Aren’t you going to invite me in?”
“Fuck no, Brian,” I say, making my way back to the doorway. “What the hell are you doing banging on my door at five-fucking-thirty in the morning? Are you insane, or do you have a death wish?”
“Neither. I have a proposition.”
“Another one? Why the hell couldn’t you have told me this at the diner? I was there, you were there, what the hell came up in the middle of the night that’s so damn important?”
He smirks his sexy suggestive smirk, and I roll my eyes, and place my hand over his mouth.
“Shut up, and come in.”
He walks past me, turning so that the front of his body presses up against mine oh so briefly, but so goddamn deliberately. He is so fucking infuriating with his flirty little routine. He has me wide awake now.
I close the door, watching as he throws himself down on my couch, stretching languidly. The hem of his white tee shirt rides up, giving me a peek of his beautiful lower abdomen. What a fucker.
“By all means, make yourself comfortable.”
“Nice digs, Sunshine,” he says casually, looking around.
I cross my arms and glare at him. “Whatever. What do you want?”
“I told you. I have a proposition.”
“Care to elaborate?”
“If I have to…”
I exhale loudly, and resist the urge to stomp my feet, and shake my fist at him, screaming my head off.
“Will you get to the fucking point before I kick your ass!”
“You couldn’t if you tried, but I suppose I did come over here with a purpose…”
He stops speaking, and stares intently in the direction of my bedroom doorway. I follow his gaze, and lo and behold, standing there in a pair of fitted boxers is the man I forgot was still in my bed.
“Is everything okay?” he asks, his eyes darting from Brian to me.
Like a deer caught in blinding headlights, I hold Troy’s gaze, stammering to find the words to explain the level of ‘okay’ taking place.
“Everything’s just peachy,” I hear Brian answer for me.
My head whips around so fast, I can feel my neck pop, and I find Brian’s eyes watching my every move. I want to tell him to stay out of it, but my voice won’t cooperate.
“Justin,” Troy calls. I turn my attention back to him. “Are you alright?”
“I’m fine,” I manage finally.
“You sure?”
“He said he’s fine,” Brian interjects. “You think you could give us a minute? Or better yet, do you think you could put on your clothes, and get the fuck out of here?”
He did NOT just say that!
“Who the fuck are you? Justin! Is this your boyfriend?”
“NO! No. He’s my ex,” I explain, turning back to the menace on the couch. “Brian, what the fuck? You can’t just come here in the middle of the fucking night kicking people out of MY apartment! Just leave. If you have something to say to me, you can call me on my phone at a decent hour.”
“Justin… honestly, you think I would come over here at this hour if I didn’t have something good to say? I rarely indulge in this particular brand of impulsive behavior, and you really want to kick ME out? The intrigue would kill you. And if you do kick me out, I’ll never tell you… or rather, ASK you what I was planning on asking you tonight. But if that’s what you want, I’ll leave. But you’ve got to pick. Me? Or that guy?”
Okay. I’ve figured it out. I’m fucking dreaming. I have to be, because this is the most bizarre thing I’ve woken up to EVER in the history of my life. This is Brian here. BRIAN. And he’s suggesting that we talk. He’s suggesting that he has something important to ask me. And if it were anything like his last proposition… the “business” proposition for that Carnivale poster, he would definitely NOT be here in the middle of the night. He would’ve asked me at the diner. How could I possibly kick him out without knowing what the hell he wants?
However, if I throw Troy out, he will never forgive me. I’ll never see him again.
But, Brian wouldn’t forgive me either. Things between us would get worse than they already are, and there’d be added tension, and resentment… FUCK!
Rock and a hard place, anyone?
“Aren’t you Brian Kinney?”
Jesus Christ.
“Uh, yeah.”
“Hm.”
“Excuse me?”
“I’ve just heard a lot about you, that’s all. I didn’t realize that Justin was THE Justin.”
What the fuck is he talking about? THE Justin?
Brian laughs at him.
“Yeah, he’s THE Justin. Didn’t I teach him well?”
Oh my God.
“Brian, shut the fuck up. Troy, I’ll talk to you later.”
Did I just say that? Speaking before thinking is never a good thing.
“What?” Troy sounds indignant. “You’re making ME leave? What the FUCK, Justin? WE were in the middle of something! He barges in here, and you just accept it?”
I turn to look at Brian and he’s wearing a look of amused indifference. I make my way hastily over to Troy, and pull him into the bedroom with me, slamming the door.
“Look,” I say, plopping down on the end of the bed. “I’m really really really sorry! I didn’t know this would happen. Brian and I have barely even been on speaking terms lately, but the thing is… we went out for about two years on and off, and we went through a lot of shit together, and even though I want to kick his ass out… I can’t. He’s here for a reason, and that’s a big deal. I don’t know if he deserves to have me hear him out, but I have to. I’m really sorry, Troy. Believe me.”
“Fine,” he says harshly, reaching for his clothes. He begins to dress hastily, tugging the garments on with excessive force.
“You know,” he continues, “I thought you were really great. Really sweet. Great fuck. Smart, funny… the works. But you’re just an asshole. And you obviously learned from the best.”
“I’m not an asshole. It’s just a fucked-up situation. If I kick Brian out, there’s more to lose. I’ve only known you for a fucking week. We’ve only been fooling around for two days. There’s no other choice here.”
“Right. Whatever. If you’re into the whole masochistic thing, that’s cool. I wouldn’t want to get caught up in this bullshit anyway. You two deserve each other.”
He bangs open the bedroom door, and walks briskly over to the apartment door on the opposite side of the room.
“Bye bye, Blondie,” Brian taunts from the couch.
“Fuck you!” Troy says loudly, before banging the other door shut with his departure.
I pause for a moment, trying to gain control of my breathing. This is totally fucked. I run a hand through my hair, and walk back into the bedroom to retrieve a pair of sweats. I pull them on, and drop the blanket on the floor, and head out to face the music.
I walk over to the couch, and slap Brian’s feet off of it, so that I can occupy the space they were taking up.
I stare into space, my thoughts discombobulated and detached. I feel Brian place his feet on my lap, and I turn to him.
“Jesus, Brian! What exactly was all this drama for? It better be fucking good, or I will seriously never speak to you again.”
“I’m going away for a while.”
My stomach drops instantly. My throat gets dry, and my eyes start to shift. My brain is in panic, and my face must have paled, because Brian is giving me a funny look.
Did this motherfucker just say that he’s leaving? And what exactly does “a while” constitute?
“What?” I squeak.
“I’ve decided to go on an extended vacation. I’m fucking sick of the Pitts. I need a change.”
Tell me about it.
“Where are you going?”
He shrugs. “No destination has been set.”
“What? You mean to tell me that YOU are going to leave with no plan?” Brian Kinney acting on a whim?
“Precisely. No plan. Just my fabulous new car and me.”
“Wow.”
“And you.”
“WHAT?”
Okay, now my heart is in my throat. I can feel it beating against the spot where the tip of his dick used to rest when I went down on him.
“If you want.”
“WHAT?”
I repeat it out loud, and in my head as well, because I can’t fucking believe this, and “What” is the only thing that makes sense.
“You… me… the ‘Vette… vacation… lots of driving… lots of fucking… just us three.”
“For how long?”
“Two months.”
Two fucking months!
“Who knows about this?”
“No one.”
“Are you playing an elaborate hoax on me?”
“No, Sunshine, I’m dead serious.”
Let me get this straight…
“You want ME to leave with YOU on a random two-month excursion in your car, with no plan, no one the wiser, jobs and friends be damned, life ignored, just us? On a road trip?”
“Aren’t I kooky?”
I stare at him, and stare at him, and stare at him, and try to process this information, and I realize that I’m laughing. Maniacally. And then he starts laughing too. Really laughing. He hardly ever laughs like that. Ever.
Then suddenly, he sits up, and he leans in real close to my face, sliding his body right up next to mine.
“You’re crazy,” I tell him, once I’ve stopped laughing. “What the hell has gotten into you?”
“Something… good… or bad, depending on how you look at it.”
“So you’re really serious.”
“Bring only the essentials. I have limited trunk space. And lots of CDs. We’re going to have a lot of time to fill up. We wouldn’t want any awkward silence.”
“Brian… I can’t go with you on this adventure you’ve conjured up. I have obligations.”
What am I saying? I’m trying to actually say “no” to this?
********************
Why is he trying to pretend like he won’t go along with this? Resistance is futile. He should know this by now.
“You have minor obligations. I have HUGE obligations that I am leaving behind. You’ll have no problem getting out of yours.”
I watch his expression, and I can tell that he’s trying really hard to concentrate on every angle. He wants to come. He will come. He just wants to make himself believe that he won’t. He’s trying to find a good excuse. And he won’t. I’ve got a logical rebuttal for every single one he can cook up.
“Deb will be pissed.”
“Who the fuck cares? She’ll be pissed for 30 seconds, and then she’ll get all happy, and excited, and forget about being angry.”
“I have this apartment to pay for.”
“I’ll pay the next two month’s rent.”
“I can’t let you do that.”
“Yes you can. I’m taking you away on whim, so it’s my responsibility to make sure you don’t suffer any consequences for complying with my crazy idea. Fair is fair.”
“Yeah, but… I don’t have the money to pay for two months of anything. I live paycheck to paycheck. My mom has to help me out, and you already pay for my school. We’re not even together, so I definitely can’t have you paying my way on this trip you want to take.”
“You want to take it too. It’s not going to be THAT expensive. I can afford to pay for both of us. I want to. As for being together, we will be. I told you, it’s just you, me, and my baby Stingray.”
He looks at me like I’ve lost my fucking mind, and maybe I have… but who cares? I want to do this. I’m going to do this. With or without him. It’s just that with him would be so much more fun. And it would be a big fucking deal. I mean, we’re talking NO DISTRACTIONS. He has to understand that.
“Stop trying to invent excuses, Justin. It won’t work. I’m going, and I want you to come with me. Isn’t that enough?”
He lets his right hand drop into his lap, desisting with the thumb sucking, and nail biting that he was doing, and his face lights up.
“You’re fucking insane.”
“I know. Aren’t you?”
He grabs my head forcefully, using both hands, and he pulls me to him roughly, shaking my head, and giving me a wild look.
“You amaze me!”
His lips capture mine hotly, and I pull his body against mine as we ravage each other’s mouths for the first time in what seems like centuries. God, I missed his mouth. I take the opportunity to slide my hands down his back, and inside his pants, squeezing, and kneading the soft flesh of his perfect ass. I missed his ass more than anything.
But I pull back, once I feel satisfied with the kiss.
“Later,” I say quietly against his lips.
“What do you mean? You’re just gonna leave after all this? Stay for a while.”
“We can’t. We’re leaving.”
“What? Now?”
“Yes, now. That’s why I came here, after all. To get you.”
“I thought you meant in a few days, or something. You mean, leave right now? For two months? Without seeing anyone, or anything?”
“Precisely. Pack up. Lightly, as I said, and let’s get the fuck on the road.”
“Did I mention that you’re fucking crazy?”
“I know, I know… bonkers, nutty, gone completely batty. I’m leaving in 10 minutes. You’d better be ready if you intend on coming with.”
“No one is ever going to believe this shit,” he mumbles, getting up, and heading into his bedroom.
He’s so fucking right.
To be continued…
Nowhere We Know - Chapter 1
Mistakes & Regrets
By Violet Jones
“We will go nowhere we know, we don’t have to talk at all.”
- Beck
“If I made a list of my mistakes and regrets, I’d put your name on top.”
- And You Will Know Us by the Trail of Dead…
*****
I wasn’t really thinking when I did it. I just found myself there. Looking at him. Wanting him. An irrational thought permeated my brain telling me to just leave. Get the hell out of dodge, but take him with me. I could leave everything else behind, but not him. I’d go out of my mind if he didn’t come too. So, I asked him. And to my surprise he let me take his hand and lead him away. It was one of those moments in life where everything literally slows down and everything seems palpable, like you could reach out and touch the energy. It was a moment of truth. And it felt so good.
**********************
How the fuck did this happen? I found myself on autopilot, following the last person I ever thought I’d be following. I’d made a promise to myself never to get stuck in his trap again, but there I was. I had no fucking clue where we were going, and I didn’t care. I have no idea what made me do it, but I just knew that I had to. I knew that I’d do what he asked of me. I felt so comfortable with the whole crazy situation, because all of a sudden I was with him. Again. I hadn’t realized how much I really missed him until he took my hand and led me away. Where exactly we’re going, I have no idea. I’m not so sure he does either.
**********************
June 2003
I’ve been working like a dog since the summer started. I’ve kept myself busy that way. When I’m not working at the diner, I’m drawing, painting, and manipulating images on my computer. I’m trying to be as productive as I can be. I don’t want to have any time on my hands to think about what’s lacking in my life at the moment. Namely a boyfriend. It sounds pathetic, but I miss having someone around. I have friends, and I trick occasionally, and I keep busy, but I still get lonely.
It’s mostly because of the memories. What I had, what I lost. What I did, and didn’t do. But, I don’t dwell on those memories, those thoughts. I don’t try to fix everything in my head, and I don’t wallow in self-pity. He wouldn’t want me to, anyway. Not that I’m doing it for him. Or, not doing anything for him. It’s just that I don’t want to be sullen, and morose. I want to be happy. So, whatever happiness I can get on my own, in this little world I’ve created for myself, I take it. I refuse to let tragic sentiment rule my life.
I have my own apartment now. It feels so good to have my own place. I never really thought about the upside to living alone, but I’ve found that it definitely has its perks. And even though I get lonely, I like this solitary existence. Not that I’ve shut myself off from everyone. I still see them plenty. I mean, I still work at the diner, and they’re always hanging around there for some reason. And I have friends from school. They come over sometimes, and I go out with them every once in a while. For the most part, I like the time to myself. I think it has something to do with growing up.
The other day, I was talking to a friend of mine who saw this special on like the Discovery Channel or something, about how when you’re a teenager, you use a small part of your brain that you never use again after you reach adulthood. You start using a completely different part of your brain. That means that suddenly your mind starts to open up to new ideas and possibilities, and that your perspective shifts. I mean, essentially you’re still you, and you still have your views and principles, but you start to dismiss your old ways. You just grow out of them. So, because I’m 20 years old, this change is starting to take place. And who knows, maybe I’m totally reading too much into it. Maybe it doesn’t have all that much to do with anything right now, but I think it fits as part of the explanation. Why I’m so ready and prepared for life, and so fucking scared and unsure all at the same time. Being alone helps me to work it all out in my head.
Brian used to say that I overanalyze everything. But, that’s bullshit. It really is. He wrote the handbook on how to overanalyze any given circumstance. The thing is, he doesn’t let you know what he’s up to. He retreats into himself, and refuses to pay attention to anything else. Not me. I try to figure things out piece by piece. On my own time. I don’t obsess over figuring out all the answers. I just let it be. I just am. Brian has yet to figure out how to just be. To fucking calm down for a second, and stop creating scene after dramatic scene. He deals with so much shit. Like, not only his own, but everyone’s. Lucky for him, I’m one less person he has to take care of. One less person that he has to think about, and mull over agonizing situations for.
He must feel good about that.
********************
It doesn’t make much sense anymore. Any of it. The show goes on. The routine continues. I go through the motions, basically, but it’s slowly building up to a point where I can’t take it anymore. A point where I can’t just keep going like something’s not missing. Like I didn’t screw up the one shot I had at something good and exciting. Something that could keep me on my toes, and make my life meaningful. Lately, I’m not finding much meaning in anything. I mean, I’ve always been pretty apathetic, but it’s getting ridiculous. And it’s not even like I’m in a bad mood all the time, yelling at everyone, or anything like that. It’s just that I don’t fucking care. I just find myself there. Doing whatever I’m doing. It doesn’t really feel good, or bad, it just is.
I don’t like the feeling. It’s so unnatural. That’s what really gets under my skin. It’s unnatural for me to be floundering like this. Like I’m walking a fucking tightrope, and I know I’ll fall, but which way, and does it even matter? I don’t think anyone has even noticed. Or they just don’t care. Justin doesn’t care, that’s for damn sure.
At no point in time did I ever really stop and think about Justin not being in my life. I mean, obviously we broke up. Things were bound to be quite different after that, but I didn’t think it’d be like this. I didn’t think he’d slip out of my life, and not care what was going on with me. I mean, from day one, he’s always cared about me. Even when all I wanted was for him to wise up, and not fucking give a shit. But now, it sort of appears that he’s done that, and it kills me. At first, I found ways to keep him in my life. Even if it was only vaguely. He was there. And now, even when I see him it’s like it really doesn’t matter that I’m there. He could take it or leave it, just like I could take or leave any fucking thing I do lately.
I know what that means. I fucking know. It means that I still care about him. And it means that I still care about the way he feels about me. What a revelation. Note my sarcasm. Of course I care. But it really really pisses me off that he can’t see that. That he won’t even try anymore. What happened to the persistent kid that loved me no matter what, and would do anything to stay by my side, and in my bed for just as long as I would allow? What happened to that kid? He’s gone.
Maybe that’s what happens. I mean, he’s 20 years old now. He can’t stay the same. He can’t be the 17-year-old golden boy forever, can he? If it were up to me, I’d put us both in a homoerotic version of Neverland where we’d both stay the same. No one else around to bog us down. No worries. No violin players. No tricks. Nothing. Just us. Us the way we were for that short period of time after he recovered from the bashing. That short amount of time when we were so obviously happy. And he so obviously loved me, and I loved him back. What happened to that? How can it all just disappear like that? Like nothing ever happened. Like there was never a thing there to begin with.
What a fucking lie. It was there. It was. I was there, and he was there. We were there, and we should still be there. And since we’re not, I don’t fucking care anymore. About anything. And I’m not being childish about it. I’m really not. I’m just stating the facts. I’ve tried to get over it. I’ve tried to forget about it. I’ve tried to live my life the way I did before he invaded my life, and my head, and my heart. But, as hard as I tried, nothing worked, so I stopped making the effort. I sort of gave up. And it’s not the first time. You’d think a guy like me would keep going and going until he absolutely got everything he wanted, but I don’t. I’ve given up many times. Especially where Justin is concerned.
He’s always been the offense. I’ve been the defense. He goes for it, and I fend him off. That’s how we operate. That’s what we do. And now that he’s finally given up, I don’t know what to do.
What do you do when you’ve both given up?
************************
I’m three hours into my shift when the usual suspects saunter in. I glance at them, and continue wiping down the tables in the back. Deb immediately heads over there to take their orders, so I don’t bother to go near their table. I make my way behind the counter, and begin refilling the condiment bottles, and the sugar containers.
I feel his eyes on me, and it makes me nervous. Why is he looking at me? It finally gets to me, so I look up, and straight into his eyes. He doesn’t bother to look away, like I thought he would. He just keeps staring at me. And it shakes me. It really rattles me, and gets under my skin. I let out a long breath, and look away.
I go around to the tables replacing the condiments and the sugar. I conspicuously save their table for last.
Emmett’s in a chatty mood.
“Hey, sweetie. How are you doing?” he greets me, kissing my cheek as I lean over to place the ketchup and Tabasco near the other end of the table.
“I’m fine,” I answer, smiling brightly.
“What have you been doing lately? I hardly ever see you.”
“I’ve just been busy. You know, drawing, painting, stuff like that.”
“That’s great. Are you planning on staying in the Pitts for the entire summer?”
“Um, I don’t know. I haven’t really thought about it. I don’t really have the money to go anywhere.”
“I understand, sweetie.”
I figure I’m free to walk away, once I place the sugar next to Brian’s coffee, but Emmett babbles on.
“You want to come out with us tonight?”
I turn around, thrown off guard.
“No thanks. I have plans.”
“You can’t stay home painting all night. You need to have some fun!”
“Yeah, Justin,” Ted chimes in. “You should get out of your place for a while.”
“Well, I actually wasn’t planning on staying home. I have plans with someone,” I admit, trying my best not to look at Brian.
“Oooh!” Emmett claps. “ Sounds like a hot date!”
I can’t help but smile at his enthusiasm. “I guess.”
“What do you mean, you guess? Dish, baby!”
“It’s just this guy I met the other day. No big deal.”
“Whatever you say. If you end up seeing him again, I want to meet him.”
“Maybe.”
“Have fun,” Mikey says.
“Yeah, have lots of wild sex afterwards,” Ted adds.
“I’ll try,” I smile again.
This time when I walk away, nobody stops me.
**********************
I can’t help thinking about it. I try not to. I really do. As indifferent as I am to everything else, you’d think I’d be able to pretend to be indifferent about Justin being with someone who isn’t me. I mean, I know Justin. He isn’t one to go without sex. I know he’s had a lot of it with a lot of guys since he and Ethan broke up. Not that I like thinking about him fucking Ethan. I hate that more than anything, but this bothers me immensely. Justin doesn’t operate the way I do. Hence the “going out” thing. He dates people. I just fuck people. And I know that a date doesn’t mean “long-term relationship”, but if there’s talking involved, there’s a much better chance of something like that happening. Losing anonymity isn’t a good thing. Hence the stupid rules Justin and I had.
And to know that he’s out there freely kissing all these guys, and letting all these guys get a taste of him, and his perfect ass. It makes me seethe.
FUCK!
I turn from the bar abruptly, and make my way to the backroom. I think someone was in the middle of an interesting anecdote, and I hear my name being called as I retreat, but I don’t turn around.
I lean back against the wall, and some guy comes over, and tries to kiss me. What a fucking idiot. I thought everyone had figured out by now that I don’t kiss anymore. It’s been that way for a while.
I push his head down before his lips reach their destination, and he kisses my neck. He unbuttons my shirt, and licks his way down. I zone out after that.
Why the fuck does it have to be like this? Why doesn’t Justin care? What made him stop caring? Was it me? I mean, I never asked him to care in the first place. I never encouraged those feelings. I did my damnedest to discourage them. So, why did it suddenly work? What was it exactly that made him quit? What was the last straw?
I feel the guy sucking my dick, and it feels alright, but I don’t care. I don’t care if I get off or not. I don’t care about any of this.
I push the guy away from me, and put my cock back in my pants. Button up my shirt halfway, and make my way out of the backroom. I’m in no fucking mood to stand around not really listening to the idle chatter of my friends, so I head upstairs and lean against the railing, idly scanning the crowd below. I immediately recognize the blonde head bobbing up and down in close proximity to a darker blonde head, grinning ferally. I can’t see Justin’s face, but I can tell he likes this guy… or at least, he really wants to fuck this guy. And the guy really really wants to fuck Justin. And the guy is hot. Pretty damn hot.
FUCK!
Of all the places the little twinks could’ve gone, they had to fucking come here? Justin knows… well, I guess he doesn’t care, does he?
**********************
I didn’t want to come here. Obviously. I knew the boys would be here, and I suspected Brian would be too. I tried to convince Troy to go somewhere else, but he insisted. So, I figured, what the fuck? It’s not my problem if Brian sees me. I’m sure he doesn’t give a rat’s ass anyway. As for the prospect of seeing him with some guy… what else is new? I’m so used to it by now. Sometimes I still get that pang… the jealous kind, but it doesn’t really have the same effect it used to. Being jealous over Brian fucking random guys is futile. He’ll always do it, why let it affect me? I have no right to let it affect me. So I ignore it. If he feels anything like that when he sees me with someone else, good! I’m fucking glad! Maybe then he’d know what it’s like to be me watching him. But I know he doesn’t get that way over me. Not anymore.
Luckily, there have been no run-ins tonight. I spotted the boys over by the bar, but no sign of Brian yet. Maybe I’ll get real lucky and not see him at all. Maybe I won’t be here long enough.
Troy is really hot. He’s 22, and he has amazing green eyes, and long dark blonde hair, and beautiful pink lips. His smile is killer, he’s tall, and well-built… no bulky muscles, he’s just really toned. His arms are really strong, and that is such a turn on. It reminds me of someone… but anyway, Troy is really hot, and he’s grinding against me, and it’s making me hard.
I feel his lips latch on to my neck, and his hands slide down my back to squeeze my best feature.
“You have the greatest ass,” he tells me in a husky voice, not moving away from my neck.
Fuck, I’m so turned on.
I met Troy a few days ago in the park. I was sitting there drawing landscapes, and next thing I know, he’s sitting next to me, talking away. If it weren’t for his total hotness, I would’ve been pissed at the interruption, but how could I get pissed at that face? And he wanted me, and he asked me out, and of course I wasn’t going to refuse. So, here we are.
Some guy bumps into us, just as we’re about to kiss, and we move away from the rowdy group of people we were next to. I look up to see him smiling at me, and I smile back, and I go for the kill. We stand there making out, and all I can think of is getting him back to my place. Screw the date.
I run my fingers through his hair, and pull away.
“Let’s get out of here,” I tell him.
“Your place, or mine?” he asks knowingly.
“Mine. You drive.”
He smiles, and leans in to kiss me again, and that’s when I notice him. I look up and see Brian leaning against the railing, glaring right at me. And I realize that he’s been watching this whole time. And I don’t know how to feel about that. I mean, this is twice in one day I’ve caught him watching me. He never watches me. Most of the time he pretends like I’m not in the room when he sees me, so his actions today have been a little off-putting. I hesitate for a few seconds, before I respond to Troy’s kiss.
“You lead the way.”
********************
I lie awake in bed all fucking night. What a miserable night. I can’t get these thoughts out of my head. I tried to force them away, and I even tried to keep my eyes closed for a while, and drift off. I put on Sigur Ros’ new album, and that didn’t work either. Just reminded me more of Justin.
Justin and that fucking guy. That good-looking blonde guy with roaming hands who was salivating all over… When he put his hands on Justin’s ass, I was so fucking mad. I wanted nothing more than to storm downstairs, and rip his arms off for thinking that he could just do that. Put his hands on that ass. On MY ass.
FUCK!
I know I have no right to get all possessive, and that’s why I didn’t kick that guy’s ass into the next century. I just stood there, helpless. On the outside looking in. And I hated it. I could feel every muscle in my body tense up, and every neuron in my brain throbbing from the anger and the hurt. It was like this dull ache. This pull from somewhere deep down inside me.
I wanted to hurt someone, namely the kid with the nimble fingers touching my… my what? What the fuck is he to me anymore? Nothing. Not a fucking thing. Whether I like it or not, that’s the way things are. And that’s the way they’ll stay, I suppose. And I don’t know where that’ll get me.
I can just imagine what’s going on right now in an apartment downtown… little Justin riding that asshole’s long hard cock. Moaning in pleasure when it goes in deep.
I can picture the face he makes every time my cock hits him just right… the little hisses and sighs that escape his mouth. The way he would get so excited, and scream my name, and squeeze my ass, and kiss me hard, sucking my soul from me. Taking it into him. I know every little thing he does when he’s fucking. I know it better than I know anything else in this sick sad world. The way he puts everything into it, and his body shakes, and the look on his face displays his passion so freely.
I love making him feel that way. I love fucking him more than I love doing any other thing. I love how it makes me feel when I’m inside him.
I hate that someone else is doing that to him right now. And I fucking hate that I’m jacking off just thinking about him.
Pathetic.
**********************
I wake up feeling refreshed; like I just had the best fuck I’ve had in a long long time. And I did. Troy is no slouch in the sack. Not the best, because I’ve had the best too many times to count, but Troy was close. He was really close.
Brian’s face haunted me all night long, but that didn’t stop me. I let it linger in the back of my mind, and just accepted it. Resigned myself to knowing that Brian was always there. He told me so the first time, and it stuck. It really stuck. And after the encounters I had with him yesterday, it was impossible not to think about his face.
But I still enjoyed myself. I still had an amazing time. With someone else.
Troy is like practically perfect. I mean, from what I can tell. In between rounds last night, we talked a bit. And he was smart, and funny, and comfortable. He was easy to be with.
I glance over at his sleeping form, and study the contours of his back and arms. The bronze tone of his perfectly tanned skin. I study all of his features from this angle, and memorize them for later. I’m too damn lazy to go get my sketchpad. Plus, he might freak out if he wakes up mid-sketch, and think I’m overly enthusiastic about him. I don’t want that.
After I gawk for a while, I close my eyes again, and try to think of a way to proceed. I really like this guy, and I want to see him again. Maybe we could go out on a normal date where events and conversations actually take place before we hit the sheets. I think it could be good. And I think he likes me too. I hope he does. This could be just what I need.
“What are you smiling about?”
My eyes snap open, and I feel like I’ve been caught doing something really embarrassing when I thought no one was around.
“Last night,” I say, recovering quickly.
He smiles back at me.
“It was pretty fantastic, wasn’t it?”
“Beyond fantastic,” I amend.
“So, when are we going to do this again?” he asks.
Score! I think my smile must be a mile wide.
“I am so glad you brought that up,” I admit, rolling on my side so I can lean down and kiss his luscious lips. “Let’s do it again whenever you want.”
“How about right now?”
“You say all the right things,” I say as he rolls on top of me.
A couple of hours later, I let Troy drop me at the diner. I get there a bit early so I can gorge myself before my shift starts. And since timing is always a bitch, I get there just as the boys are ordering brunch.
“Honey!” Emmett waves, “Come sit with us.”
He actually knows that I’m here early. He knows my fucking schedule. That’s how much time these people spend here. It’s crazy.
For some reason, Em, Ted, and Mikey are all crammed into one side of the booth, while Brian is stretching out across the other side… meaning that I have to sit next to him, which I suppose is good, because then I can avoid looking at him, without it being too obvious.
I walk over to the booth, and say hey to everyone, and I look at Brian, and he pauses purposefully before lowering his long legs to the floor, and facing his body in the proper direction. I slide in, and brace myself for the onslaught of questions sure to come.
4… 3… 2… 1…
“Soooo… how great was the sex you had last night?” Emmett inquires.
“How did you…”
“We SAW you, sweetie! Dancing with that hunkalicious blonde. I know you two did not dash out so quickly, without even talking to us once, just so you could rush home to show him your stamp collection.”
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
“Yeah,” is all that comes out.
“Yeah, what?” Michael asks.
“I’m sorry, what was the question?”
“How was the sex?”
The question startles me, because it comes from my right, and the voice sounds like Brian’s. And I can’t believe that he would force me to look at him by asking that question. Even if it wasn’t his idea to begin with.
I turn my head to look at him tentatively, and answer as honestly, and as simply as I can.
“Great.”
“Great?”
I nod.
“That’s high praise coming from him,” he states, looking at the others. “He has unbelievably high standards.”
“Me?” I snort. “You make every guy feel completely useless and inexperienced right after you’re done with them. They start gushing, and you get bored, and insult them. You have the highest fucking standards of anyone on this continent!”
“That should tell you something, shouldn’t it?”
“What?” That really throws me off. WAY the fuck off. Him and his fucking innuendoes. Usually, they’re the bad kind, but that… THAT is the best insinuation I’ve ever heard! Praise from He-Who-Does-Not-Praise.
He smirks his little smirk, like he always does, and it makes me want to smack it right off his face.
“You heard me.”
Smack the grin off his face, and punch him in the balls.
“Riiiight,” I say looking back at the three men in front of me, who are now wearing baffled expressions. Shocked, amused, what-the-fuck expressions.
Luckily, Deb appears, and cracks some lame jokes, and laughs up a storm, and she takes my order, and serves the guys their food, then disappears again.
And much to my chagrin, the questions start up again.
“So, what’s his name?” Em asks.
“Troy.”
“How old?” Ted asks.
“Twenty-two.”
“What’s he do?” Michael asks.
“He’s a philosophy major at Carnegie-Mellon, and he’s like a mechanic.”
“A mechanic?” the three of them say at once.
“Yeah,” I chuckle.
“That’s so butch!” Em gushes.
“And hot!” Ted adds.
“Totally,” Michael agrees.
“When are you seeing him again?”
“Tonight,” I say quietly.
“Two nights in a row?” Em inquires in a shrill voice. “Honey, he’s a keeper!”
“Definitely,” Ted amends.
“Totally,” Michael repeats.
“Maybe,” I mumble.
********************
Swell. Just fucking swell. Brilliant, dazzling, wonderful, fine and dandy… fucking swell.
MOTHERFUCKER!
Of course… I spend the night harping on my stupid insecurities about Justin, and when the light of day hits, my fears are validated. Turns out, I had every reason to be apprehensive. Justin’s gone and found the perfect man.
I try to tune out the rest of the conversation the Idiot Trio drum up with him, but my ears won’t cooperate. They pay close attention to every word.
“Where in the hell did you find this guy?”
“In the park. I was sketching, and he sat down next to me on the bench, and started flirting.”
How fucking hetero.
“Philosophy major… he must be smart, and intellectual.”
“Yeah, he is. He’s really interesting.”
Interesting my ass, you just liked the guy’s cock.
“He must love you. You’re so adorable, and smart, and funny. You’ll reel him right in!”
Jesus fucking Christ on a stick!
“We just met. It’s not that serious.”
You tell that nelly queen. Fuckin’ A, they’ve only known each other a couple days.
But what happens when they’ve known each other for a couple of weeks, or a couple of months, or years even? Fuck… I mean, really, what’s to stop him from settling down with this Troy person?
I mean, two fucking nights in a row? What the hell is that shit? They just met, so why do they have to be all together so quickly?
“You never know. He could be Mr. Right.”
I’ll probably walk in here tomorrow, and boom… I’ll see them cuddling in a booth, whispering, and laughing, and being all intimate, and cute. And I’ll want to heave, and throw punches, and yell “FUCK YOU” at the top of my lungs, and steal him away. But I won’t do any of those things. I’ll just pretend like it’s not there. Like I don’t give a shit. You know, the usual.
But, fuck… I really do care. I don’t want Justin getting involved again. I mean, lucky for me, Ethan turned out to be an asshole. But what if this guy is really what he appears to be? What if Justin slips even further away from me than he already has, and really moves on? What the fuck would I do then?
“I don’t know.”
Why does this have to be so hard? And why do I have all these goddamn questions in my head with no answers forthcoming?
He has no idea what he does to me. He just soldiers on in his happy little world where I don’t matter. What a prick.
************************
After an agonizing breakfast, and a long-ass shift, I feel completely exhausted. I didn’t get much sleep last night, and I’ve been stressed out all day for various reasons. Mainly reasons to do with Brian.
I can’t remember the last time we’ve been so uneasy around each other. I can’t even remember the last time he seemed to actually give a shit about anything concerning my existence. So, the stares from yesterday, and the little off-the-cuff comment from this morning have me wondering if maybe there’s something going on with him. Like, why the sudden interest? He sure as hell couldn’t be bothered to care in the months that have gone by since I broke up with Ethan. He manipulated that relationship, and we had our run-ins with each other, but as soon as Ethan was out of my life, Brian just stopped trying. He didn’t make an effort, and by that point, I had no desire to make an effort either. I mean, he was such a bastard about the whole Ethan thing. Why would I want him in my life after all the things he said to me?
Anyhow, I’m too tired to think about any of that right now. Christ, I’m like fucking Scarlet O’Hara… “I can’t think about that now, I’ll think about that tomorrow.” And in the end she was too fucking late. But, whatever. That was a tad melodramatic if you ask me. I mean, Rhett was so nonchalant about letting her go. And I always hated the music that goes along with that scene. It gets all happy. That kind of thing just doesn’t happen in real life. People don’t come to sudden realizations like she did, and rush home to declare their love only to find their lover walking out the door. In real life, it’s not that fucking dramatic. It’s not a big production. That movie was so frustrating.
As soon as I make it back to my apartment, I throw all my shit down, toss off my shirt, kick off my shoes and shuffle sluggishly into the bedroom. I collapse onto the bed, burying my face in the pillow, intent on sleep. It washes over me almost instantly.
Slowly regaining consciousness, the faint sound of knocking becomes louder and louder, until my eyes fly open, and I recognize that someone is at the door. Noticing the lack of light filtering through the windows, I glance at the clock and see that it’s already 9:30. What the fuck…
Half-asleep, I wander out into the living room, making my way to the door. I just want the fucking noise to stop! I throw the door open harshly, and my mouth opens before my brain can even register who it is standing there.
“WHAT!”
“Hi. Did I wake you? I thought I was supposed to meet you here…”
“Hey, Troy,” I reply, rubbing my eyes, feeling slightly remorseful about my outburst. “I’m sorry. Come in.”
I stand aside, and he tentatively steps past me, as I swing the door shut.
“You look cute,” he says with a smirk, taking me unawares. I look down to see that I’m only wearing a pair of jeans. And my face must be wearing a silly dazed and confused look. What the hell is cute about that?
I smile anyway, shaking my head, and heading to the kitchen.
“Do you want anything to drink?”
“No thanks, I’m fine.”
I pour myself a glass of water, and gulp it down in seconds flat.
“So… I guess you’re not up for going out…” Troy says, awkwardly standing in the middle of the living room looking unsure of himself.
“Not really,” I admit. “You got a problem with that?” I smile deliberately, arching an eyebrow at him.
He smiles back brightly, “None whatsoever.”
He walks towards me slowly, and takes my face into his hands, capturing my lips in a fierce kiss that makes my knees wobbly. My hands find their way to his hips, and I pull him closer to my body, pressing against him willfully.
Breaking the kiss, I take his hand and pull him into the bedroom, intent on making this another fun-filled sleepless night.
********************
Goddammit… another sleepless night for me, spent idiotically pondering the state of affairs between me and my ex. And I still can’t get the picture of him and Mr. Perfect out of my head. I keep seeing flashes of the two of them entwined, having fabulous sex. It’s agonizing… I want it to stop.
I tried to avoid this plague by opting out of Babylon tonight, in favor of Dial-a-Dick a.k.a. My Little Black Book. I didn’t want to risk the chance of seeing a variation of the scene I witnessed last night. I thought that was what triggered the restlessness.
The trick was good. Well, satisfactory. He was pretty what-fucking-ever in reality. But it kept my mind, among other things, occupied for a while. Though I’ll admit that visions of Justin were dancing in my head at regular intervals. It made me want to scream.
And now… now I wouldn’t have the energy to scream if I tried. I feel drained. Sucked dry. Completely useless.
How many times have I found myself lying here, staring up at the ceiling beams, blowing smoke rings, and watching a thick cloud form high above my head? I always do the same thing... I focus on the smell, the motion of my hand, the scratchiness of the cigarette between my fingers, the way the smoke rolls over my tongue, and fills my mouth, then my lungs as I hold the smoke there momentarily, before expelling it. Then I repeat the process.
It’s a method I use for distraction when I’m anxious, or thoughtful. It allows me to kind of step back from everything in my head, and then shift viewpoints when my mind switches back to its previous ruminations. In some fucked-up way, smoking clears my head, and gives me new insight about the problem.
I’ve been contemplating just picking up, and leaving town for a while. Taking some much needed vacation time, and getting away from everything. It seems logical to me. Maybe it’ll clear my head, and put everything in perspective.
I can’t believe I want to run away so I can sort myself out. What an absurd idea. I’m supposed to be the one who takes whatever comes in stride, and marches to the beat of his own drummer, and simply doesn’t give a fuck, and all that other bullshit. Strange as it seems, though, never before have I felt such an urgent need to escape.
Now that I have the ‘Vette, what better way to really break her in than to take her for a nice long drive to the middle of nowhere… or maybe, some other thriving metropolis that isn’t good ol’ Pitts. Hell, anywhere but here sounds nice. If I can’t have a permanent change, temporary is the next best thing.
Yeah… the more I think about it… it really sounds like a great idea. A perfect solution. I’ll pack a small bag, grab a jacket, and get the fuck out of here.
But first, there’s just one thing I have to do.
********************
For the second time in a matter of hours I awake to the sound of relentless banging on the door. What the fuck? Why am I so popular all of a sudden?
I grimace, and try to bury my head in the pillow, hoping whoever the fuck it is will get lost before I come and kill them with my bare hands.
“Are you going to get that?” a sleepy voice rasps next to me.
I groan loudly, and sit up, glancing at the alarm clock.
5:30 in the fucking morning!
Holy shit… I hope there’s not some crazy emergency!
I quickly jump out of bed, and practically run to the door, throwing it open, while asking, “What’s wrong?”
But the person standing before me is the last person I ever thought it would be. He looks startled, and sleep-deprived.
“Nothing’s wrong. Sorry if I scared you.”
He looks me up and down, and laughs uneasily.
“What?” I look down, and realize I’m naked. Fuck. I turn around, and spot a blanket on the back of the couch. I scramble over to grab it, wrapping it around my shoulders.
“Aren’t you going to invite me in?”
“Fuck no, Brian,” I say, making my way back to the doorway. “What the hell are you doing banging on my door at five-fucking-thirty in the morning? Are you insane, or do you have a death wish?”
“Neither. I have a proposition.”
“Another one? Why the hell couldn’t you have told me this at the diner? I was there, you were there, what the hell came up in the middle of the night that’s so damn important?”
He smirks his sexy suggestive smirk, and I roll my eyes, and place my hand over his mouth.
“Shut up, and come in.”
He walks past me, turning so that the front of his body presses up against mine oh so briefly, but so goddamn deliberately. He is so fucking infuriating with his flirty little routine. He has me wide awake now.
I close the door, watching as he throws himself down on my couch, stretching languidly. The hem of his white tee shirt rides up, giving me a peek of his beautiful lower abdomen. What a fucker.
“By all means, make yourself comfortable.”
“Nice digs, Sunshine,” he says casually, looking around.
I cross my arms and glare at him. “Whatever. What do you want?”
“I told you. I have a proposition.”
“Care to elaborate?”
“If I have to…”
I exhale loudly, and resist the urge to stomp my feet, and shake my fist at him, screaming my head off.
“Will you get to the fucking point before I kick your ass!”
“You couldn’t if you tried, but I suppose I did come over here with a purpose…”
He stops speaking, and stares intently in the direction of my bedroom doorway. I follow his gaze, and lo and behold, standing there in a pair of fitted boxers is the man I forgot was still in my bed.
“Is everything okay?” he asks, his eyes darting from Brian to me.
Like a deer caught in blinding headlights, I hold Troy’s gaze, stammering to find the words to explain the level of ‘okay’ taking place.
“Everything’s just peachy,” I hear Brian answer for me.
My head whips around so fast, I can feel my neck pop, and I find Brian’s eyes watching my every move. I want to tell him to stay out of it, but my voice won’t cooperate.
“Justin,” Troy calls. I turn my attention back to him. “Are you alright?”
“I’m fine,” I manage finally.
“You sure?”
“He said he’s fine,” Brian interjects. “You think you could give us a minute? Or better yet, do you think you could put on your clothes, and get the fuck out of here?”
He did NOT just say that!
“Who the fuck are you? Justin! Is this your boyfriend?”
“NO! No. He’s my ex,” I explain, turning back to the menace on the couch. “Brian, what the fuck? You can’t just come here in the middle of the fucking night kicking people out of MY apartment! Just leave. If you have something to say to me, you can call me on my phone at a decent hour.”
“Justin… honestly, you think I would come over here at this hour if I didn’t have something good to say? I rarely indulge in this particular brand of impulsive behavior, and you really want to kick ME out? The intrigue would kill you. And if you do kick me out, I’ll never tell you… or rather, ASK you what I was planning on asking you tonight. But if that’s what you want, I’ll leave. But you’ve got to pick. Me? Or that guy?”
Okay. I’ve figured it out. I’m fucking dreaming. I have to be, because this is the most bizarre thing I’ve woken up to EVER in the history of my life. This is Brian here. BRIAN. And he’s suggesting that we talk. He’s suggesting that he has something important to ask me. And if it were anything like his last proposition… the “business” proposition for that Carnivale poster, he would definitely NOT be here in the middle of the night. He would’ve asked me at the diner. How could I possibly kick him out without knowing what the hell he wants?
However, if I throw Troy out, he will never forgive me. I’ll never see him again.
But, Brian wouldn’t forgive me either. Things between us would get worse than they already are, and there’d be added tension, and resentment… FUCK!
Rock and a hard place, anyone?
“Aren’t you Brian Kinney?”
Jesus Christ.
“Uh, yeah.”
“Hm.”
“Excuse me?”
“I’ve just heard a lot about you, that’s all. I didn’t realize that Justin was THE Justin.”
What the fuck is he talking about? THE Justin?
Brian laughs at him.
“Yeah, he’s THE Justin. Didn’t I teach him well?”
Oh my God.
“Brian, shut the fuck up. Troy, I’ll talk to you later.”
Did I just say that? Speaking before thinking is never a good thing.
“What?” Troy sounds indignant. “You’re making ME leave? What the FUCK, Justin? WE were in the middle of something! He barges in here, and you just accept it?”
I turn to look at Brian and he’s wearing a look of amused indifference. I make my way hastily over to Troy, and pull him into the bedroom with me, slamming the door.
“Look,” I say, plopping down on the end of the bed. “I’m really really really sorry! I didn’t know this would happen. Brian and I have barely even been on speaking terms lately, but the thing is… we went out for about two years on and off, and we went through a lot of shit together, and even though I want to kick his ass out… I can’t. He’s here for a reason, and that’s a big deal. I don’t know if he deserves to have me hear him out, but I have to. I’m really sorry, Troy. Believe me.”
“Fine,” he says harshly, reaching for his clothes. He begins to dress hastily, tugging the garments on with excessive force.
“You know,” he continues, “I thought you were really great. Really sweet. Great fuck. Smart, funny… the works. But you’re just an asshole. And you obviously learned from the best.”
“I’m not an asshole. It’s just a fucked-up situation. If I kick Brian out, there’s more to lose. I’ve only known you for a fucking week. We’ve only been fooling around for two days. There’s no other choice here.”
“Right. Whatever. If you’re into the whole masochistic thing, that’s cool. I wouldn’t want to get caught up in this bullshit anyway. You two deserve each other.”
He bangs open the bedroom door, and walks briskly over to the apartment door on the opposite side of the room.
“Bye bye, Blondie,” Brian taunts from the couch.
“Fuck you!” Troy says loudly, before banging the other door shut with his departure.
I pause for a moment, trying to gain control of my breathing. This is totally fucked. I run a hand through my hair, and walk back into the bedroom to retrieve a pair of sweats. I pull them on, and drop the blanket on the floor, and head out to face the music.
I walk over to the couch, and slap Brian’s feet off of it, so that I can occupy the space they were taking up.
I stare into space, my thoughts discombobulated and detached. I feel Brian place his feet on my lap, and I turn to him.
“Jesus, Brian! What exactly was all this drama for? It better be fucking good, or I will seriously never speak to you again.”
“I’m going away for a while.”
My stomach drops instantly. My throat gets dry, and my eyes start to shift. My brain is in panic, and my face must have paled, because Brian is giving me a funny look.
Did this motherfucker just say that he’s leaving? And what exactly does “a while” constitute?
“What?” I squeak.
“I’ve decided to go on an extended vacation. I’m fucking sick of the Pitts. I need a change.”
Tell me about it.
“Where are you going?”
He shrugs. “No destination has been set.”
“What? You mean to tell me that YOU are going to leave with no plan?” Brian Kinney acting on a whim?
“Precisely. No plan. Just my fabulous new car and me.”
“Wow.”
“And you.”
“WHAT?”
Okay, now my heart is in my throat. I can feel it beating against the spot where the tip of his dick used to rest when I went down on him.
“If you want.”
“WHAT?”
I repeat it out loud, and in my head as well, because I can’t fucking believe this, and “What” is the only thing that makes sense.
“You… me… the ‘Vette… vacation… lots of driving… lots of fucking… just us three.”
“For how long?”
“Two months.”
Two fucking months!
“Who knows about this?”
“No one.”
“Are you playing an elaborate hoax on me?”
“No, Sunshine, I’m dead serious.”
Let me get this straight…
“You want ME to leave with YOU on a random two-month excursion in your car, with no plan, no one the wiser, jobs and friends be damned, life ignored, just us? On a road trip?”
“Aren’t I kooky?”
I stare at him, and stare at him, and stare at him, and try to process this information, and I realize that I’m laughing. Maniacally. And then he starts laughing too. Really laughing. He hardly ever laughs like that. Ever.
Then suddenly, he sits up, and he leans in real close to my face, sliding his body right up next to mine.
“You’re crazy,” I tell him, once I’ve stopped laughing. “What the hell has gotten into you?”
“Something… good… or bad, depending on how you look at it.”
“So you’re really serious.”
“Bring only the essentials. I have limited trunk space. And lots of CDs. We’re going to have a lot of time to fill up. We wouldn’t want any awkward silence.”
“Brian… I can’t go with you on this adventure you’ve conjured up. I have obligations.”
What am I saying? I’m trying to actually say “no” to this?
********************
Why is he trying to pretend like he won’t go along with this? Resistance is futile. He should know this by now.
“You have minor obligations. I have HUGE obligations that I am leaving behind. You’ll have no problem getting out of yours.”
I watch his expression, and I can tell that he’s trying really hard to concentrate on every angle. He wants to come. He will come. He just wants to make himself believe that he won’t. He’s trying to find a good excuse. And he won’t. I’ve got a logical rebuttal for every single one he can cook up.
“Deb will be pissed.”
“Who the fuck cares? She’ll be pissed for 30 seconds, and then she’ll get all happy, and excited, and forget about being angry.”
“I have this apartment to pay for.”
“I’ll pay the next two month’s rent.”
“I can’t let you do that.”
“Yes you can. I’m taking you away on whim, so it’s my responsibility to make sure you don’t suffer any consequences for complying with my crazy idea. Fair is fair.”
“Yeah, but… I don’t have the money to pay for two months of anything. I live paycheck to paycheck. My mom has to help me out, and you already pay for my school. We’re not even together, so I definitely can’t have you paying my way on this trip you want to take.”
“You want to take it too. It’s not going to be THAT expensive. I can afford to pay for both of us. I want to. As for being together, we will be. I told you, it’s just you, me, and my baby Stingray.”
He looks at me like I’ve lost my fucking mind, and maybe I have… but who cares? I want to do this. I’m going to do this. With or without him. It’s just that with him would be so much more fun. And it would be a big fucking deal. I mean, we’re talking NO DISTRACTIONS. He has to understand that.
“Stop trying to invent excuses, Justin. It won’t work. I’m going, and I want you to come with me. Isn’t that enough?”
He lets his right hand drop into his lap, desisting with the thumb sucking, and nail biting that he was doing, and his face lights up.
“You’re fucking insane.”
“I know. Aren’t you?”
He grabs my head forcefully, using both hands, and he pulls me to him roughly, shaking my head, and giving me a wild look.
“You amaze me!”
His lips capture mine hotly, and I pull his body against mine as we ravage each other’s mouths for the first time in what seems like centuries. God, I missed his mouth. I take the opportunity to slide my hands down his back, and inside his pants, squeezing, and kneading the soft flesh of his perfect ass. I missed his ass more than anything.
But I pull back, once I feel satisfied with the kiss.
“Later,” I say quietly against his lips.
“What do you mean? You’re just gonna leave after all this? Stay for a while.”
“We can’t. We’re leaving.”
“What? Now?”
“Yes, now. That’s why I came here, after all. To get you.”
“I thought you meant in a few days, or something. You mean, leave right now? For two months? Without seeing anyone, or anything?”
“Precisely. Pack up. Lightly, as I said, and let’s get the fuck on the road.”
“Did I mention that you’re fucking crazy?”
“I know, I know… bonkers, nutty, gone completely batty. I’m leaving in 10 minutes. You’d better be ready if you intend on coming with.”
“No one is ever going to believe this shit,” he mumbles, getting up, and heading into his bedroom.
He’s so fucking right.
To be continued…