A New Story?
So, I think writing that little one shot sparked my creative juices, which have been absent for months. So I wrote a chapter, maybe, for a story I might continue.
I just need some positive feedback :]
Title: Addicted to You
Rating: 14A? [drug use]
Summary: Joel is a 17 year old addict; Benji is a formerly homeless musician who finds a mysetrious boy right before he blacks out from speed...
Disclaimer: I do not own these people, and these people never did the activities mentioned.
Note: For the thirsty fanficers, I hope I can help quench you?
The street lights blur my vision as I race though the dark city streets.
Somebody is following me. I can feel it.
Maybe it’s Roy, but I paid him for the dexies 2…no, 4 days ago.
Maybe it’s Tex, but I haven’t used X in weeks…fuck, did I forget to send him the money?
Maybe it’s just Steven, checking on me. But, I can’t let him see me like this. Again.
Or maybe it’s just the fuzz like usual, coming to breathe down my neck. They know my face well.
I just can’t spend the night in the cells one more time. Everytime I revisit the wretched place, I break down in the abyss, thinking about the whacked out, shameful story that is my existence. They see my face, and they pity me. They know I’m not strong, they see it.
They judge me.
You’re an addict. You’re an addict. You’re an addict. You’re an addict.
My heart and brain pump in unison reinforcing the gruesome truth.
I sell to the rich and damaged, then wipe my ass with the cash I earn by continually buying my deadly love. Over, and over. I can’t stop.
Tonight? I decided to buy my poison of choice, speed, from some sketch named ‘Big J’. This shit is fucking strong, and I don’t think I can run anymore. I’ve been on the buzz high for almost 2 hours now, and the feeling is wearing off.
Haze is starting to cloud me: I have to figure out where I’m going to stay tonight. This thought worries me the most.
Where the fuck am I anyways?
I look up to see the street sign, and all it reads is ADDICT. In big bold print.
Everywhere I look, all I see, is ADDICT. It’s - it’s fucking trapping me.
It’s over there, written on the lamppost, on that stop sign, on the road pavement.
“LEAVE ME ALONE. GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME!”
And suddenly, it’s engulfing me. The word.
And I black out.
----------------------------------------
“Fuck, David, what the hell do I do with this kid? He blacked out, I don’t know what he took, but it must’ve been some hard shit, he was yelling.”
“I don’t know Benj...why the hell did you take him all the way here?”
This is not the fucking time to be difficult.
“Dude, I couldn’t just leave some kid there on the concrete. Especially because I know what it feels like.”
My past memories creep up my spine in a chilling memory. I shudder but push them back out as quickly as they came: there are more important tasks at hand.
All I was doing was playing some late night guitar down at 6th Street Park, smoking a doobie. This kid then enters the scene, out on the sidewalk screaming about somebody, he wanted them to leave him alone or some shit.
I figured maybe somebody was going to go beat him up, but he’s already so fucking scrawny, even though he’s slightly taller than me, and that’s not fair. Particularly since he was so afraid of them. I walked over to try and defend him, but nobody was there.
He was tripping balls I realized as I got closer, and all I did was tap him on the shoulder to see if he was alright; he collapsed.
So presently I’m just freezing my ass off, juggling my guitar on my back and this kid in my arms - who just because he’s skinny doesn’t mean he’s light - and standing outside Dave’s apartment. Apparently I have a soft spot for messed up youth.
“Well what’re you going to do?” Dave asks like an idiot.
“Fuck knows. I was hoping that maybe I could just come in for a little while? Wait till this kid wakes up so I can help him get wherever he needs to be?”
Dave gives me a look.
“Come on man,” I plead. Why am I pleading?
“Well, what about Lars’ house?! I thought you were crashing there for a while.”
I sigh in exasperation. “I am! Your place is just closer to where I was! Dude, for real, this kid is heavy now, can I please just come in?”
He backs away, contemplating.
“Man, no. Like, I’m sorry, but I don’t want the police coming to investigate or anything, because maybe they were following him. And besides, you’re stoned too. Sorry, good luck.”
And that’s that.
He shuts the door, and I’m left with a corpse in the hallway of a building 10 blocks away from my ‘home’.
Fuck my friends.
------------------------
My head is stinging.
Fuck, what the hell. What happened?
My eyes flutter open, and all I see is a cracked ceiling. I smell the vague scent of stale cigarettes.
I attempt to sit up and suddenly someone is there, almost shouting at me.
“Stay down kid! Stay down. Just lay there for a sec okay?”
“Umm, okay.” I reply, unsure of what else to do.
I hear muffled voices.
“...gonna do with the kid?”
“...just talk to him...”
“...can’t stay...not enough space..”
“..fuck off..”
Next I hear thumps which I presume are footsteps. Then a guy with black spiky hair and an eyebrow ring comes and sits where my feet end. I guess I’m on a couch.
He looks hesitant to say anything, and then he speaks.
“So, uh, you okay man?”
I'm unsure of what to say...
“Uh, I guess. Can you tell me where the fuck it is I am? And can I please sit up?”
He catches a hint of a smile, and it’s cute. He’s cute, actually.
I hope I’m not about to be raped.
“Yeah, you can.” I slowly move my spine muscles upwards, alert. And deduce that I’m in a dingy apartment, not unlike my own house.
I turn to survey everything, and realize I’m probably being really sketch, so I look back at the guy. He’s staring at me.
“Uh, hi.” I say to him. “I’m Joel...”
“Benji,” he tells me easily.
“Um, where am I?”
“In my house!” comes another voice. I swivel my head and see a spiky blond haired guy coming in the living room where we are, beer in hand.
‘Oh, kay. Uh, awesome....why am I here?”
Blond guy takes a sip of Heineken.
“My buddy Benj here is a fucking nice guy and he carried you all the way here from 6th Street Park, so you better fucking appreciate it!”
I stare at blond guy who is now lighting up a smoke, hence the stench, and then gape at Benji, who looks at his friend almost angrily, embarrassed.
“Wow. Thanks? What happened?”
Benji hesitates.
“Well...You came running down the sidewalk dude. You were screaming about something attacking you, and I was going to help you out. Then you just kinda collapsed. Man, what kind of shit did you use?”
Flooding my mind, I suddenly remember taking the meth, and the running, and that fucking word, that awful word. I get up abruptly and start to heave, then nausea hits me and my insides come pouring out. Dealing with anxiety was never my strong point.
I clench my stomach and try to cover my mouth. This is after all, not my home.
“Jesus Christ!” Benji scooches over to me and puts a hand on my shoulder. “Get him some water Lars.”
Lars. That’s blondie’s name.
I finish, and lay back against the cushion, Benji’s hand still on me, warm. I feel comfort from it, something nice that I haven’t felt in a while. It’s odd.
He runs it down the length of my upper arm and trails it off, like he’s unsure of what he just did.
I tilt my head to him, my eyebrows furrowed in confusion, and he turns away.
“Oi.”
Lars has returned with a cup and some water, breaking the awkwardness.
“Thanks man.” I grab the cup thirstily. “And...sorry.”
I look down at the mess I’ve created.
Lars chuckles. “No worries buddy. It’s definitely not the first time that’s happened.”
He plops down next to me, the space now readily available.
“So. What are we gonna do with you, huh? And i’d also like to know what you were on, and I will never take that, or take it again,” he laughs.
I think about home, and I shudder. Then I rub my eyes in discomfort.
I feel Benji's hand on my body again.
“Oh don’t tell me Benj,” Lars starts, while grinning. "You have the hots for this one, don’t you? That’s why you dragged him on home”
“Fuck off!” Benji snaps, while flipping the bird. Aww, He’s so cute.
I smile and take a deep breath. “I was on speed. Shittiest trip of my life. I don’t really remember much, just that all I could see before I blacked out was one word.”
“Damn, speed. How the fuck did you get speed man? I know most of the dealers in this city. How old are you?” Lars asks.
Wow, I feel like I’m 6.
“What was the word?” Benji asks, concerned.
“I’m 17...and the word was addict. In big bold print.” The revulsion hits me again and I cover my eyes with my hands.
I remove them to see Lars looking at me in amost admiration.
“17? Fuck kid, wait till after school to use that shit. Actually, not a good idea to use them at all.”
“I know,” I sigh.
Nobody says anything for a moment.
“Well, do you want us to walk you home or something? I’d drive you if I had a car, or pay for a cab if I had money, but we here at the poor side of town are usually broke. And as you can see, there’s limited space.” Lars explains.
“Uhh.....” I don’t need to digress to complete strangers, but fuck, how do I clarify without giving away too much?
“Well, that’s cool if I need to motor. I can’t really go home right now, umm where exactly is here?”
“ We’re in Stonehaven right now.”
“Oh, okay.”
Fuck. Need to lie.
“I know a guy...I can probably jet over there for the night...” I trail off.
“Do you actually know a guy? Or are you saying that because you don’t want us to feel like jackasses?” Wow, am I that see-through?
“No," I sigh. "I don’t know a guy. But I’ve already wasted enough of your time. I’ll be okay on my own. I’m always on my own...”
Out of my peripheral vision I see Benji look at Lars.
“Man,” he says so quietly I almost can’t hear. “He can sleep on the couch right? I can just sleep on the ground or something.”
Lars exhales deeply.
“Come on, he’s just a kid.”
“Fine.” He grumbles.
“Kay kid, I know you were listening.” I turn red.
“You can sleep here on the pullout, but only because you aren’t a douche bag, and because I can tell Benji will punch me out if I make you leave. Also, it’s Saturday, and nobody will come looking for you tomorrow and convict me of being a pedo.”
I stare at him in disbelief.
“Fuck, thank you. Thank you! You have no idea!” I go over to hug him, and he tenses up, while putting his arms in the air.
“Dude, it’s okay. Me and Benj know the feeling, it’s weak. No need to go homo on me, Benj has enough for all of us.”
I free Lars and giggle, while Benji just crosses his arms. He’s cute.
Lars then stands up, and Benji follows. They remove the cushions on the sofa and pop out the bed.
“I’m gonna fucking kill you as soon as he leaves” Benji grunts at Lars. Lars simply laughs.
They throw 2 stray pillows that have questionable stains on them onto it.
‘Voila! A sleeping arrangement is made. Now you figure it out, I’m peacing out. It’s fucking 3 am, I shouldn’t be drinking...”
He saunters away and leaves us 2 in the room alone - awkward.
“So...” I start.
“So...what are you waiting for?" he looks at me like i'm retarded. "Sleep. You look like you need it.”
“But, you don’t have anywhere to sleep...”
“I’ll sleep on the floor.”
“But...no. That’s not fair; you already carried me up here, apparently.”
“Yeah I know, because you were out cold. So, you actually need it. Get on.” He points, ordering me onto the pullout.
I slowly sit, and the proceed to lay on one half of the bed, leaving space.
“Umm...we can share?” I suggest.
I stare up at him and he stares back, pondering.
“Uh, you sure? You sure that’s a good idea?”
He says this while walking over to the edge, and fiddling with the single sheet covering it.
Clearly, he finds my proposal enticing.
“Yeah, it’s fine. I don’t care.”
“Well...okay...”
He too, finally, gets stiffly on the bed, and switches off the single lamp that was illuminating the room. Mind you, this couch is miniscule: our hips, legs and arms brush against one another.
I reach and pull the sheet over both of us, might as well get it over with to avoid more weirdness. Benji takes a sharp breath as my hand skims his side.
I place it back to my side, and I can sense his hand extremely close to mine.
Now I have to say it. I just do.
“Just for the record -“ I begin to whisper, and I can hear him stop breathing to listen.
“I’m gay too.”
There's comfortable, understanding silence that ensues.
The next thing I feel is his warm, soft hand encasing mine, and I feel the comfort again.
I can feel something starting, it’s strange. It’s strange because it’s something positive, I can tell, and that hasn’t happened for a long time.
Today has been quite the experience: really bad, then oddly - really good.
“Are you alright now?” Benji asks. “Is this okay with you?”
I pause.
“Yes, i’m fine. I really am.”