Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ My (More Than) Acquaintance with a Rentboy ❯ Oh, the angst ( Chapter 5 )

AUTHOR'S NOTE!:

READ THIS FIRST!

I am not only adding this chapter, but have revised the others as well. I've added a new plot concept, so you might want to reread considering it's greatly revised. Otherwise some of this may seem out of place. sorry to spring this on you, but I hope the story will become more enjoyable this way.

~~~

 

I was feeling dead. More than dead. I couldn't count the hours anymore. My mouth parted and robotic words managed their way out.

"Hello sir, Feel free to seat yourself and I'll be with you in a moment."

 

The elderly man looked at me curiously as he took off his tweed fedora. He looked behind me and called out. "Bethany? Who's the new kid?"

"Oh, Good evening Joel ! " Her voice replied from the back. "That's David, be nice to him!"

The man grumbled and brushed snow off his coat as he made his way to a window seat. The cafe was bright; too bright; as the day's gleaming fluorescence reflecting off the snow. The swell of customers during the day was something I was unaccustomed to seeing, since the holiday season had the place surprisingly more busy and festively stuffy. It had been a few days since this new job, and I enjoyed the work, since most of the customers were elderly or quiet. Although lately, more girls from the college had been showing up because of the attractive Christmas decorations. They made the place more lively, so it was good for business. I couldn't enjoy it very much though. I could hardly enjoy anything at all. Once again, I was sleepwalking; Everything around me felt a thousand miles away; I was just observing the scene around me like how a person observes an actor at the matinée. The worst I'd been in a long time...And I blamed Roz.

 

Voices were just barely breaking through my haze.

" I'll have the fish and chips." The old man said gruffly. "And a beer too."

"Coming right up."

I turned to check in the order, but not before I was stopped by a table of girls to get them refills that their cups didn't need. They were trying to be friendly and start conversation, but I was just a nodding mannequin, with a pleasant smile and an absent look on my face. I wanted to be friendly too, but I poured them water, my hands shook. I should have taken the day off.

I gave the old man's order to the cook and Bethany's lined face faded into view as she came around a corner. She looked at my face with all the concern of a mother. "Hon, you look exhausted." Her hand went to my shoulder. She had no clue of course. " Don't you have a final tonight too? "

“ Yeah, but I only have to turn a piece in."

“Okay, well you're on break for a bit. “ Thank god. I took a seat in the grubby little kitchen, watching the two cooks go about their business. The otherwise uncomfortable wooden chair was a savior to my feet. The clanking of plates sounded like nothing but dull, slow motion thuds. I decided to closed my eyes, to rest them if at all possible. There was a calming stillness. My body felt heavier...I was a million miles away...and I pried my eyes open to see Bethany staring down at me. At first I wondered how she had moved to the kitchen so fast, but the truth hit me immediately.

“Oh damn, I'm so sorry, I-”

“Slept on the job.” she smiled pitifully down at me. “Lina is here to take over your shift. I'm letting you off a bit early.”

I couldn't believe it... It felt like I had only blinked. “Yeah...” I replied. “I better go. Sorry...”

" It's okay David, I know how it can be with finals. My boys used to stay up late studying too. “

I said nothing, as she picked up my bag and threw it to me.. "See you later David! And dear Lord, catch some sleep!"

I tried to say thanks, but she was already walking over to the old man to start up a conversation. She must have noticed the way I was dragging myself around. I sighed and picked up my jacket from underneath the register and walked into the flitting snow with the jingle of the door behind me. It was falling softly, like a snowglobe turned right-side-up, and the sky was a gleaming white. It was beautiful, but somehow, walking in such silence makes it so easy for the mind to wander elsewhere.

 

However long ago, after the party and truth-shots, I had gone to Bethany's career training that one morning just like I had planned to. Like usual, I hadn't slept. I laid there, daydreaming and counting minutes. When I had gotten up, Roz was still asleep, or at least pretending to be asleep, with his back to me. Additionally, by the time I had taken a lot of time to get back, he had already gone. I could only suspect that he was embarrassed and didn't want to have to deal with an awkward conversation when I returned. I guess I could understand, but it was something so typical of a teenager to do that all I could do was feel contempt for him. It continued that way still. Some nights, in the dead of morning, I'd be half-awake and would hear a key fumbling in the lock and Roz's clumsy footsteps as he'd fall onto the couch. But by the time I was convinced that sleep was impossible and got up, he'd be gone. And the only thing he'd leave behind would be the smell of cigarettes. The room was starting to absorb the smell, even when he wasn't there.

 

When Roz did stay for sleep, at the time of night where the hours bled together, I would roll out of delusion to hear him shivering. Alone on that coach, shivering. I don't know why he didn't just ask me for a damn blanket, but I hadn't been able to look him in the face or talk with him because of this weird charade he was pulling. Who knew what it was he did during the day. It was frustrating. I wished he would just talk to me. After I'd roll around in bed for a while, if Roz wouldn't show up that night, I'd just get up and paint to take my mind off of it. My waking life was affecting my artwork in an odd way, combining color schemes that were just left-over memory fragments of a dream. Besides the worries of Roz's late-night rendezvous, when I'd manage to become unconscious, I'd have these abstract dreams. Sometimes they were just really strange, and other times they were down-right frightening. But I wouldn't remember any of them. Like a thought at the tip of your mind that you can't quite grasp; my short term memory was completely fucked up. I knew that Mel would probably suggest something stupid; that I was having some inner turmoil or something, but I don't need a dream interpretation to tell me that.

 

Sometimes painting would be a somewhat therapeutic way of making me tired, but I was way too worried about Roz to even try and catch any shut eye, that jerk. It had gotten to the point where I had been awake so long that I was getting short bursts of Narcolepsy. I'd be sitting on the bus, open my eyes, and suddenly be 10 minutes into the future and at the wrong stop. Or standing at a stoplight, closing my eyes, then opening them to see that I had just missed it. My body was forcing sleep. It was rare for me to get to this breaking point, but I had to endure it anyways. I felt bruised all over. And now I was even sleeping on the job...

 

My feet crunched the remnants of snow beneath them and finally the sad building where I lived showed it's ugly head from behind a corner. My ears were already itchy with cold by the time I reached the entrance. As soon as I started up the stairs, a familiar voice called out to me. "Day-bid!" ...That voice could only belong to the batty landlady, Mrs.Saito. I stopped to turn around and saw her standing there, in her yoga clothes and a coat, eating a sandwich. She was an elderly Japanese woman, but despite her age and size, she was far from timid.

"Day-bid, Come here a minute."

'Day-bid' was how she pronounced my name. Usually I found it endearing, but I didn't want to be stopped. I wanted to go to my room. Instead, I was blinking several times so that my restless eyes would focus.

"Good morning, Mrs.Saito."

"No, not good morning. Bad morning." The blurry Mrs.Saito replied. Behind her accent, I could hear a foreign movie playing through the open door. As the stereotype goes, I usually found Japanese woman to be shy, but she was the loud and blatant exception. " Your neighbor, Ms.Palowhites-"

"It's Palowitz"

"- has been giving me trouble! All the sudden she ask me if she can have her sister move in with her, but I tell her this building do not offer roommates. One person per room! So she say that ' why does Day-bid get to have roommate?' and now I start wondering what is she talking about. And then I notice that there is a boy always coming in and out and he has key!"

"I understand Mrs.Saito-"

"Day-bid, you know you are not allowed to have roommate! "

"Let me explain." She looked like she was about to do her standard Japanese cuss-out. "He's just staying every once in a while. He's ahh...in between housing right now, and I'm just helping him out. It's not permanent or anything. "

"Of course it not permanent!" She said it with finality. Although she had to look up rather high to see my face, her air of authority was never lessened. "Anyway Day-bid, " Now that her official business was out of the way, she eased up a bit. " Here, this come for you. Wouldn't fit in the mail slot." Mrs. Saito leaned behind her door and held up a thick looking manila envelope. It looked a bit squashed from the transportation. I scanned the top for a return address, but it was a bit scuffed.

"For me? What's in it?"

"How should I know?" She started talking exasperatedly in Japanese and turned around. It was a habit she picked up while her husband was still alive.

I smiled at her ornery reply and started up the stairs. I called back to her: "Well, then can you tell Ms. Palowitz to keep her cat out of my room?"

"That not her cat, she's mine! If she like you that much, keep her!" I sighed, walking past the broken elevator and marching my feet up the stairs. On the fifth floor, I walked up to my little hole in the wall, and flattened out the corner of the envelope to read the return address. It was... from the Fine Art institute? I stopped, planted in front of my door. This wasn't from my school, but from the expensive school up in the northern part of the city. I had applied for a scholarship that the school had sponsored for the summer semester a while ago... but they didn't actually accept me, right? My heart started beating faster and I wanted to rip it open immediately. Shit, No, I shouldn't hold my breathe over it. It could just as easily be a rejection.

 

As I stood there, I could hear the sound of rushing water inside my apartment. Jangling the door open, I could hear that the shower was on. Roz was there? He hadn't been there when I had left ... Right, I had gotten off a little bit early from work. He probably wasn't expecting me and just came back for a shower. Using up all my shampoo. Dirtying my towels. Drinking all the milk and then leaving the carton inside. But it was the sneaking around to avoid me that was an outright insult to my hospitality.

 

I placed the manila envelope on the counter, taking off my jacket. I had a cold coming on with a sinus pressure headache and the fogginess in my head had let my toe conveniently crunch into the couch corner. Cursing and looking around the room now, the place was a mess. A strange color arrangement of clothes and art supplies were all over the place. I had been careless and exhausted for finals week when coming home. Well, might as well do the laundry then. There were 2 coin-operated washers and dryers in the basement, so with some luck I figured I'd probably be able to get one unoccupied. I picked up the laundry sack and just piled everything in. I figure that while I'm downstairs cleaning clothes, Roz will get his chance to sneak out, like usual. Might as well give him what he wants; It's no pain in my ass, anyway. I threw the full sack over my shoulder and left, heading down the stairs. I got to the dull, gray basement (after having Mrs.Saito make me taste-test her newest tofu recipe on the way down) and was lucky enough to have it to myself. Most of the tenants used a laundromat, but even so, it was nice to be spared the awkward neighbor conversations. As the washer devoured my clothes like a monster, I sat on top of it, contemplating.

 

That envelope...it was so thick. Too thick for a rejection letter. What if I was accepted in?

Of course it would be great! Highly acclaimed professors, talented peers, and worthwhile classes; All riding on a scholarship. I'd be able to get out of this part of this city, away from the crackheads and rentgirls and nightly serenades of police sirens. I'd be really lucky ...So why does it sound like I'm trying to convince myself? That's what it came down to...There is so much more opportunity across the bridge, on the other side of the city. Have I become comfortable in the ghetto?

 

Above me, Roz was probably leaving by now. If only he could stay for a few nights. It was embarrassing to admit, but when Roz was there, I was miraculously able to sleep. Maybe it was the fact that I wasn't alone, or just his quiet rhythmic breathing, but for whatever reason, it helped.

But also...my thoughts were annoying. Really, really annoying. I couldn't imagine his face without that flirty grin, getting closer and closer... What the hell was he thinking then? Was he still doing that weird challenge set up by his rentgirl friends? Maybe the challenge of trying to seduce a straight guy was too much to resist for him. Or he was just simply too drunk. Uhg, and the worst part was that ...I almost let him. I couldn't even move. I must've been too shocked to move. And...If he was a tomboyish girl, I really would have let him. And my stomach felt heavier as I came to the thought that...He was too goddamn cute- Why, oh why, couldn't he be a girl?!

How pathetic, I couldn't even use that as an excuse. He was a bit girly-looking, sure, but he was still very obviously a boy. A scruffy, edgy, slutty boy. It had been quite a few months since I had broken up with Kitty; Maybe I just needed to get laid? Goddamnit, ...this is your fault! Fuck you Roz.

 

Outside of my mental misery, the washer had stopped. And I still had a headache.

Realizing that my sexual frustration wasn't going to get me anywhere, I hopped off, changed machines, and decided to go back to the room. It would take a lot longer for the load to dry. Sighing, my feet dragged themselves into my room. The place looked surprisingly cleaner, although my finished painting was taking up a lot of space by the window, and I probably had to drop it off soon. The bathroom door was closed, but there was no sound. Roz had left.

I glanced to the bit of yellow on the counter. The envelope there was so distracting that it may as well have been shouting at me. I couldn't stand it anymore, and ripped it open. The glossy feel of a booklet was beneath my fingers, as I pulled out the contents. A neatly printed and professional looking paper was placed on top of it. This was it... Mr. David Abbney, I continued to read, tongue glued to the top of my mouth. ...looked over your request, and we are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted to... My eyes scanned down the page, but I could barely register what I was reading. " I got in..." I stared, somewhat frozen and read it over. The feeling of a grin came across my face. I actually....

 

"David?" I heard a small, familiar voice from behind the bathroom door. I froze on the spot. I wasn't alone?

"Roz?" I answered, surprised, without thinking. "What are you doing here?" You're supposed to be gone!

"Um...my clothes are gone..."

"Huh? They're not in there with you?"

"No, I had left them on the couch."

Silence. Awkward silence. I hadn't really been thinking when I had picked up all the clothes everywhere. "Uh, I guess they're being washed right now."

"...Oh."

His undersized clothes were probably dancing in there with mine. Well, at least they would be clean now. "So... What are you still doing in there? You're just going to chill out in the bathroom then?"

"Well I'm not gonna fucking walk around naked, am I?"

I couldn't help but laugh. He was in a rotten mood.

"Laugh it up David!" His irritated voice had a faint echo in the bathroom. "It's fucking foggy and uncomfortable in here."

That just made me laugh more. Why the shyness? If he was a modest schoolboy or something, I'd understand...but Roz? The streetrat? The boy who flirted with everyone?

"You can wear your towel."

"If it's this hot in here, it'll feel twice as freezing out there."

"Alright, well uhm..." I looked around the room and walked towards the wardrobe. There were some clean clothes in there that hadn't been worn yet. "Okay, I'll lend you some clothes for a while."

He sighed. "Great..."

"Yeah well, I don't like the idea of letting another guy wear my boxers either."

Roz tried to suppress a laugh, but I heard it. He cracked the door and I shoved the clothes in. About a minute later, Roz came out, letting all the steam billow after him. It had been a while since I'd seen his face. He was flushed from the heat, but his despite the cleanliness his eyes were still dark rimmed like usual, and his hair looked a lot longer when wet. The jeans and black longsleeve that were a casual fit for me were a bit baggy on him. It made him look even more thin. Kind of like a kid wearing an adult's clothes.

I raised an eyebrow and let him see it.

"Shut up."

"I didn't say anything."

He was smirking. It seemed we were already back on good terms. At least it was a relief to see that he was moderately healthy.

 

I was going to have to turn in my painting at around four in the evening, so I waited around for a while. Roz decided to stick around too. We still knew very little about each other, but were very content in each other's company, even without talking. I passed the time by watching the news while reading. I didn't dare touch the manila envelope on the counter. Roz had the window open,sitting crosslegged on the windowsill with a towel carelessly tossed on his head. He was smoking, letting air in. It was somewhat windy, and it was starting to be the same temperature inside as outside. I mean, at least he had the decency to let the smoke out, but it was too damn cold. "Roz, can you close the window? I think I'm coming down with something so I shouldn't be in the cold for too long."

He looked over at me lazily. "Alright I guess. I was just listening anyways."

"Listening to what?"

He smiled over at me. "The ocean."

"Roz. " I stated, sounding a little too much like my father. "You know that the ocean is, what, three hours from here?"

"You know, for an artist, you aren't very creative." he said with a mock glare. "Here, close your eyes, I'll show you."

"No." It came out almost immediately. The idea of being sightless around Roz was somewhat unsettling.

"For fuck's sake." His voice was almost a warning, so I sighed with "Alright, sorry."

The window was still letting freezing air in, and with my eyes closed, the blackness only seemed to make it feel more prominent.

"Okay," Roz started."You hear the trees right?"

"What, outside?"

"Yeah. Listen for a minute."

I had to concentrate a bit, but after a while, I could hear the wind rustling the leaves in pulses. The wind would pick up and then slow down... like waves.

"Hey, I think I know what you're getting at." If I started imagining it, the rustling sounded very much like wave breaks, breathing in and out of the ocean. And the chatter on the streets below were like the other beach visitors. The sofa felt soft, like a cushion of sand. I started remembering back to my childhood, when I went with my mom and dad to a crummy little beach in the summer. I had been messing around and looking for starfish around the tidepools. That was a fun time...

"David," I opened my eyes to see Roz hovering over me. " Are you still awake?"

"I guess I am..." I had floated into that half-asleep zone. It always teased me. A purgatory."Damn." I sat up, feeling like my eyelids were sandbags.

He sighed loudly. "I want to go to the ocean."

"It's too cold to go to the ocean this time of year."

"That's because we're inland. It's warmer by the beach. Year-round even."

I knew that was only true if you went south, but I wasn't going to argue with him. I was going to try and sleep again to the sound of the trees. But then Roz closed the window.

 

xxxxxx

Later, Roz went down to bring the laundry up while I covered my painting for transportation. He came back up later and dumped the laundry sack on my bed. "That old asian lady down there keeps glaring at me." He commented, grabbing his own tiny clothes from the pile. Mrs.Saito's cat had come through the open door and situated itself on the still-warm clothes.

It was about noon, so I threw on my coat and scarf and made my way towards the door. "Alright, I'm leaving to drop this off. See you later."

"You're leaving?" Roz was pulling Kitty's shirt on over his small chest. I should've thrown that damn thing away while I had the chance. "Is it cool if I come with you? I don't really have anything better to do."

If that's true, then where have you been going all day this past week? But of course, "Sure. " was all I said in response. "I'll see you downstairs."

I waited around in the lobby (if it could be called a lobby), watching the small TV through Mrs.Saito's open door. It was a foreign drama that involved a lot of women slapping and throwing glasses of water at each other apparently. I heard Roz's quick steps down the stairs and Mrs.Saito looked up to see him. He was in his usual outfit now, hair still a bit wet, but messy as usual. One of those people with perpetual bedhead. Roz smiled at her, but she didn't smile back. "Good luck to you in finding a new place." She said to him, without any trace of well-wishing in her voice.

Roz showed no resentment to her at all, and pointed to the 'Pets OK' sign in the lobby.. " But pets are allowed, so I'm in the clear, right?"

She gave him a deathly glare and started rattling off loudly in her native tongue."It was a joke! He's joking! I'm sorry!" I exclaimed, rushing the hell out of there onto the street. Roz was still laughing, even after I shoved him out the door. I wanted to tell him off him for causing trouble, but his laugh was too infectious. "Alright, well, fuck you if I get kicked out. "

"Come on David, loosen up." he grinned as he started to light up a cigarette. "Don't ever take yourself too seriously. Life's too short. You don't wanna sleep it away." I didn't know if he was saying a pun or not, but when he said that, I realized that I was actually awake. For a moment there I had forgotten that I was suppose to be a zombie.

 

It was about a twelve block walk, but the snow was piled off the sidewalks, and it was surprisingly calm weather. It was probably going to be sunset soon, but it was almost impossible to tell with the gray sky. People walked by, with their glazed over eyes, lost in their own thoughts, while I was lost in mine. Roz followed behind me, my “pet”, leaving me alone with the buzzing in my ears, and I kept looking behind me to make sure he's still there. After a while I heard his small voice call to me. "Hey, David?" He wasn't too audible over the sound of traffic.

"Yeah?"

We were at an intersection and waiting for a light. I'm having tunnel-vision, but I see him moving the loose scarf over his nose. " Ahhhh I've been meaning to bring up, I mean, about last week...Sorry for... that. I was pretty stupid."

Oh, that. I knew it would come up sooner or later. I turned away from him. " Well... it's one thing to kid around, and quite another to actually make a move on me. " Roz turned his head away as well and I continued. "But, well, you were kind of hammered. A lot of people get a little too friendly when they drink, so don't worry about it alright? You apologize too much."

Just brush it off. Forget about it. Let the memory go and then we'll be back to normal. Right?

The light changed and I started to walk. Roz followed behind.

"I'm always apologizing because I'm always doing something wrong. I'm just saying, that if there's anything you need-"

Here he goes again. "Don't give me that. There's nothing I need from you."

"Fuck, David! You let me get away with too much. This charity is kind of- It's making me feel guilty!"

Christ, this guy. I could only answer bitterly. "Why do you have to make a big deal out of it? I'm starting to think that you like being indebted to people."

"Because there is no such thing as getting something for free!"

We had already crossed, so I stopped walking and turned around to look at him. People continued to walk past us. "What are you talking about? Did it never occur to you that maybe someone might actually enjoy your company? You keep treating yourself like a burden. At this rate, you really will start to be."

Roz looked down, and I could see his face getting blotchy with red. "Sorry."

"Hey, don't say sorry. If someone does something for you, instead of apologizing just...say thank you."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome. " We stared at each other and then started walking again. It wasn't long before he asked "...Does this mean I have permission if I'm drunk?"

I turned around to scowl, and Roz cut me off with a laugh.

 

We reached the school relatively fast and it was pretty crowded during the day. It was cold, but my incoming sickness and coldsweat seemed to illusion it a bit. There was still snow on the ground, but there were kids outside with coffee lounging on the benches and a guy with a guitar strumming for his friends. A very typical art campus. Roz seemed to be enjoying himself, and somehow he didn't stand out too much among this group. We made our way to the white halls of the paint studios and and I arrived to the classroom to see it empty, except for the many canvases on the tables and the professor, reading a magazine. He looked up above his glasses, a little bored. "Oh. Hey David." He said. I looked around for a place to put it but he replied to my body language. "You can just place your piece at your table."

As we walked to my table, I observed all of the other unveiled paintings. Some of my classmates were exceptionally talented. I noticed Mel hadn't showed up yet. The professor had followed me to my table as well, so I took off the cover. He smiled immediately. "As expected of David! I can always count on you to make the ordinary look interesting."

I have a style that is pretty different, but to me, it's nothing too extraordinary. It's all just laying dormant in my head. Ask any artist and they'll tell you the same thing. "Thanks."

Roz was observing it curiously. My professor continued. "Its pretty strange for you to choose a landscape though."

"Yeah...I usually find landscape boring, but this was for someone I know. I guess doing something I'm not usually comfortable with actually made it a fun project." It wasn't until I ended the sentence that it occurred to me I was looking at Roz while I said it.

"Well said!" He continued to study it, so I decided to turn around to leave. "Oh, David, you can pick it up on Thursday, since it's for somebody."

"Alright then. Thank you."

"And take my class next semester!" All I could do was fake a smile in response. I wasn't going to be at this school by the next semester...It was a hard idea to grasp. Roz had distracted me from even thinking about it.

The professor walked back to his desk, while I observed some of the other paintings. As we were walking, Roz tugged on the sleeve of my jacket. "Hey...You're pretty good you know."I didn't say anything. "Stuff like that is pretty amazing to me. I mean, I like art and stuff, but I can't draw at all. I'm only decent at writing."

"Oh yeah?" That was something I didn't expect. "They have journalism classes you know."

"Nah, nothing like that..."

"So what do you like to write?" We started walking towards the door.

He was scratching his head nervously. "Ah, you know. Just stupid stuff. Like, stories, poems, lyrics, and cliche bullshit like that."

"Well, why don't you let me read that 'cliche bullshit' sometime?"

But Roz never got to respond, as there was a crash, a squeak, and the sound of scattering objects as he was walking out the door. The squeak, as it were, was the sound of Mel falling to the floor, dropping her canvas and pens flying out of her bag when she collided with Roz.

"Mel! Are you alright?" He bent down to her eye level and I started picking up her things.

"Ow..." She was rubbing her pink and white striped ankle, when she noticed his voice.

"Oh, oh! It's you guys!" She stood up and dusted herself off. "Long time no see Roz! Oh, thanks David!" She replied, as she noticed that I had picked up her belongings. "How are you guys? Did you turn in your piece already?"

"Yeah, just now."

"I'm just turning mine in now!" A slight gesture was made towards her canvas. "So, so, are you guys doing anything after this? We should hang out!"

Actually, all I wanted to do was go home and try to sleep again. "Well,-"

"Yeah, I'm free." Roz cut in. Mel turned her head back to me.

"Ah, yeah, sure, I'll hang out." If Roz was going, I might as well go too. Mel had caught the resentment in my voice. "Don't worry David! We'll have fun! The weather is actually a bit warmer today, so isn't it better than staying in?"

"...not really."

"What a hermit!" she exclaimed.

Roz started laughing."That was spot-on!"

" Alright, I said I was going, didn't I?"

The professor was next to us again after we had no doubt made a noisy distraction from his magazine reading. Mel's painting was unveiled to be a very eerie yet beautiful. The main subject was of a serene-faced woman, feasting on the neck of a struggling child. This grotesque scene was made more calm and tranquil by using soft pastel hues. Roz was gaping at it. "That's so..."

"Unearthly." I suggested.

"I was thinking more 'insane'. But yeah, that works too."

Mel grinned like a deceptive pixie. She was full of surprises.

We left shortly afterwards. I had assumed that since Mel had asked us to hang out, that she had plans of something to do. As it turned out, she didn't. 'Hanging out' was going to include doing anything that came to mind. Which meant that according to Roz and I, it had to at least be inexpensive or free. The museum was too much, the zoo was too far away, and the theaters didn't have anything interesting to watch. "Heyhey," Mel asked, " Isn't there a Jazz Fest these next couple days in the park?"

"I wouldn't be surprised" I added. " There's always something going on in that park. Last week it was chalk-art appreciation."

"Well then, why not go!" It wasn't phrased as a question. Mel was already pulling on my arm to leave.

Roz interjected. "I don't know, ...Jazz? Sounds kinda lame."

"There's nothing wrong with jazz! Besides, it's better than doing nothing on this beautiful afternoon, am I right?"

 

A half-hour later, our pseudo-dinner included teriyaki bowls from a nearby stand near the park square. People sat around chatting, and one kid was trying eagerly to fly a kite that refused to stay up. There were two stages, but only one jazz band was playing. "I kind of feel sorry for them, having to play in this cold." Roz thought out loud, smoking a single cigarette that he had salvaged from his jacket pocket.

"It's voluntary actually! A benefit of some sort." Mel explained, warming her hands on the styrofoam ricebowl. "It's nice, I think."

"I guess it's okay." I said, gulping down some teriyaki chicken. "A bit boring though."

"Yeah..." she sighed. "It'd be nice if we all had the money to do something. You should've kept working at Kinko's David."

"Well, I do have a job. At the cafe off jenson blvd."

"Hmmm? Really? Isn't there a hot guy who works there?"

"... Uh, no?"

" My friend Jordan said that she and her friends go there to see a hot guy all the time." She paused for a moment, absorbing her own words. "Oh! So it's you?"

Roz grinned at me slowly, with the cigarette hanging off his lips, and I rubbed my temple. I found it highly ironic that the more I started falling apart- the more horrible I looked and felt, and stopped caring about my appearance, the more I started getting attention from girls. I guess health is 'so last week'.

Mel was smirking. "Didn't think that you were her type. No offense, you're good-looking, but you kind of look like the walking dead."

I blinked at her lazily. "Thanks Mel."

She gave an apprehensive smile. "I'm sorry! But you really need your sleep. Seriously, how long has it been?"

"What, you can't sleep David?" Roz interjected with a piece of chicken bulging in his cheek. Mel and I both stared at him. Now that I thought of it...I'd never really told Roz, and he wasn't really around enough to figure it out anyways. He only seemed to appear whenever I was laying down and trying in vain to sleep... Was that coincidence?

"Roz," Mel started incredulously, "Aren't you his roommate? How did you not notice?"

Roz looked away, steadily growing crimson. "Whenever I come home the light's off so..." Mel then turned to me questioningly. It then occurred to me that Roz must deliberately only came up to my room when he saw the light off from the street. An eager way to avoid confrontation. But even then, I would often paint to pass the time. Wouldn't he wonder why the light was on so often?

"I just thought you were a night-owl or whatever." He confessed, gaining face again. " How should I know? I just thought that was your...look." He gestured to my tired face.

"Is 'tortured artist' a look?" Mel asked, laughing loudly.

"I'm glad you find it so amusing."

"Oh come on David." She jibed.

"So wait," Roz chimed in again. "Is it just, like, a once in a while thing? or...?"

"Er..." I finished the chicken on top of the bowl before stirring the teriyaki sauce into the rice. The steam fogged my glasses for a moment. " No. I'm clinically diagnosed with Chronic Insomnia."

They both stared at me like I can just told them I had tuberculosis.

"Damn David, I didn't know it was chronic." Mel murmured, slouching a little.

"I'm alright, really. I've been like this for as long as you've known me Mel."

"So...you've always been like this? " She looked genuinely concerned now.

It made me feel terrible, to have people worry about me, but I just tried to answer as honestly as I could. "No, um....Started when I was about fourteen, and don't really know why. It went away for a while; would skip a few years, and then come back. I'd been free from it when I was eighteen, but it came back when I moved down here. I used to see doctors and all that, but I refuse to take drugs anymore. I had gotten dependent."

"Like with Valium?" Roz asked casually. For some reason, I wasn't much surprised that he knew his medications.

"Yeah, Valium, Brotizolam, Estazolam...."

" Ohhhh, yeah," Mel nodded to my list. "I've heard that sleep meds can get addictive."

"Yeah. Those weren't fun times, but I made a promise to try and do things by myself as much as possible. Get things done naturally. "

"Not really working though is it?"

I shot a look at Roz but he was immune to my glares. "So what's the longest you've gone without sleep?" he inquired, with his head resting on both hands. Mel looked at me as well, anticipating the answer. I didn't like this sort of spotlight. It was negative attention. Welcome to the sideshow. "Well...I don't know, I don't really keep count after a certain point...probably a week and a half maybe. But I kind of get narcolepsy after a while so that probably doesn't count"

They both interrupted with noises of astonishment.

" Narcolepsy? Like, when you fall asleep randomly? " I could feel my embarrassment rising. This was why I didn't put it out in the public very often. Having such a disorder always had people grilling questions and singling me out like a weirdo. I hadn't felt that way since highschool. He continued.

"But ...don't people with insomnia have their lives shortened? What if you fell asleep on the bus or something and never woke up?"

"Roz!" Mel elbowed him. I didn't say anything, and neither did the others. For once we could actually hear the frantic horns of jazz hovering over our table.

I scratched my head."...You can't die from Insomnia."

"I know that, but I mean, there's, like, other things that contribute to the problem right?"

"Oh right right!"Mel was feeding off of his idea. "You said it started when you came down here, and that was to take care of your Aunt right? Maybe it's trauma, you know, after she died?"

I was looking around a bit now, very much uninterested. "I kind of knew she was dying really, so it wasn't a trauma. Besides, I've had it even before then, when I was in highschool. I don't care about what triggered it, I just care about fixing it. It'll go away like last time, I just have to wait it out."

They both seemed to accept this answer, but stared into their rice bowls anyways. Mel's cell phone vibrated a bit later, so she opened it and started text messaging. “Damn, my phone's almost dead” she mumbled to herself, before getting lost in her own world of texting.

Roz's head was resting on his hand, staring at me.

"What?"

He had that flirty grin again. "Just wondering what you'd look like unconscious. Sleeping Beauty."

I rolled my eyes. "I wouldn't give a pervert like you the pleasure."

" 'Pervert' he calls me. "

"Aren't you?"

" 'Slut' maybe. 'Whore' definitely. Actually, yeah, I guess 'pervert' does work for that category." He looked mildly contemplative.

Mel had finished her text messaging and popped into the conversation. "Hey hey! The band's practicing tonight, wanna hang out?"

"Fuck yes!" Roz exclaimed.

"Yay! You come too David!"

"Yeah, sounds cool." Practice sounded safe enough. I had no problem hanging out with the band as long as there wasn't another party waiting for us when we got there. I wouldn't be able to sleep back at the apartment anyways.

"Ha!" she exclaimed. "See? I always find fun things to do! This jazz fest was just a detour."

Mel and Roz were getting giddy together and I started feeling very old for a moment.

"Jung's just invited us, so we can go with him! The rest of the band is there early. awesooome~ Rob said that they were working on new music too!"

"Fuck, I want to hear it! Can we go right now?"

"Yeah, let's catch a cab to Jung's place and then we can all go together."

"Will we all fit?"I inquired.

"We were able to last time!" I was already feeling car sick again.

 

 

xxxxxx

The band liked to have their practices in the basement of a local pub. They knew the owner and he gave them permission, as long as he'd get free tickets and merchandise in return. It was situated right beside our city's landmark bridge, practically on the water if it wasn't for an abandoned basketball court taking up space there as a parking lot. The only thing keeping the two parts of the city apart was that metal contraption of a bridge. Our side of the river looked at that bridge like it was the yellow-brick road to Oz, while the other respectable side looked at it like the road to hell. And running underneath it was the snake-like dark water of a river; the primary spot for rich folk to have boating parties and for murderers to dump bodies. It represented the constant juxtaposition that our city was situated with, and everyone knew it.

 

We got off at the stop just before the bridge, walking along a surprisingly quiet area, the residents taking refuge in what little warmth their homes could provide. The long shadows of evening had earlier since crept into dark corners and only the lights of cars plowing onto the bridge kept the street illuminated. Jung stretched audibly when we got out of the cab. We had picked him up before coming, so he had fun reliving the accounts of the last party, saying that his girlfriend had hardly got into any trouble at all. We approached the pink and yellowy lights of the small bar briskly. The empty basketball court beside it was eerily dark and looked like a graveyard for old cars left there to die, lit by only a sad, solitary streetlamp. Jung looked completely relaxed as we grouped at the door, and he walked in as if it was a secondary home. He nodded to strangers, and they nodded back. It was stifling hot from the multiple bodies inside so we all started unzipping our jackets and sweaters. There were busy pool tables with people smoking, making an unnatural poisonous fog. It was a rough-looking crowd, very different from the artschool environment that I was used to. One man had his shirt off and was heavily tattooed with an oriental tiger. His group looked us over before giving a slow nod. If Jung hadn't been with us, it seemed like we would have been heckled out of the place. Roz usually had a punkish street-look about him, but with these burly men around, he looked like an absolute twink in comparison.

 

We continued to follow Jung, feeling like we just walked into a tobacco-laden lion's den. The bartender let us pass, behind the back rooms and down a staircase of ugly yellow metal slats that let everyone down below know that we were coming. The mood was instantly lifted as the other band mates yelled a greeting as we clanked our way downwards. "Hey, you guys made it! " Mel's brother Robbie was there again, tall and tan, scruffing my hair like I was his own kin. "What took you guys so long?"

"Nothin' really." Jung shrugged, "Just had to say goodbye to my girl."

"Oh wow. Did they have to pull you out of her?"

"Fuck off" he smirked. Most of the guys laughed, Mel rolled her eyes, and I shifted uncomfortably.

Tanner, the bassist, gestured to some seats that consisted of an old stained couch and various folding chairs.

For being basically a large cement box, the basement was surprisingly comfy; Besides the racks of booze, it was littered with instruments, the walls were plastered all over with music posters and stringed lights kept the place illuminated in muggy yellow light.

The band hit it off immediately, launching into conversation and throwing music lingo and acronyms at each other that I didn't understand. I sat down on the couch next to Mel and Roz pulled up a chair. I could tell he was going to keep his eye on the blond drummer for the rest of the night. Jung picked up a Telecaster that was laying by an amp and strummed it a few times. The volume was piercing, and it had an echo within the solid walls. "Alright, let's start with ...uh, have you guys been staying with 'Prospect of Falling' ?"

"No, we were waiting for your ass." The first guitarist said with a smile.

"Kay, well, let's start on...the bridge and into the chorus."

With a short " 1,2,3,4..." They wailed into song. This was one of the songs on their demos, but it sounded so different live and blaring. It felt twice as raw and our group felt blown back in our seats. When they played, it felt like more than a melody; it felt like they were playing gritty colors. A minute or so in, almost instantaneously, my appreciation of them had increased tenfold. The heavy bass would drown out guitar for a moment, and then break into a new tempo with drums sparking and guitarists sailing their fingers down the frets. It turned into a large experimentation instead of a song. The drums stopped suddenly, leaving the other instrument to fend for themselves, and broke us out of our trance. "Fuck, sorry, my beat felt off." he explained.

“That's cool. We were all sort of carried away anyways.”

And they came in and out of song like that throughout the practice. Once they got into a mood for the music, a three minute song could last seven. In and out of genius quick as a flash, usually interrupted with a "Sorry" or a "Shit, my bad, start over". After a while of this it became much more social. Jung even sat down with a beer and started talking with Robbie while the others sort of improvised or just messed around with different sounds. They were all so warm and friendly with each other, it felt like being at someone else's family party.

 

"Damn, the shows gonna be here before you know it." Tanner sighed. He was smiling, but looked nervous just bringing it up. He was sitting backwards in a fold-up chair beside Mel and I, stretching the hole in his jeans absentmindedly.

"I know! I'm really excited for it! you guys are gonna be great. " Mel assured him, also giving her mindless hands something to do by scribbling on her sneakers.

"Yeah, it's just, I invited a lot of people that I know, so I hope I don't screw up."

"Well, if they know you, then they probably won't care if you screw up, right?." I added in.

"Hey yeah, I guess you're right." he laughed.

"Don't worry about it. Just, you know, feel the music and go with it. If you guys are even half as good on stage as you are in practice, then ...I can't imagine anyone not having a good time. "

Tanner looked very reassured at my words. " Whoa, you know David, you're actually a really nice guy."

I was taken aback.

"Thanks but...What...'s so surprising about it?" I asked, without meaning for it to come out so gloomily.

He almost grimaced a smile. "I don't know, I mean, don't take it the wrong way, you just look pessimistic or something."

"Actually... I've been getting that a LOT lately."

"You wouldn't get it so much if you just smiled more or something!" Mel suggested. But she took that moment to stand up. " Want anything to drink David? Tanner?"

Tanner turned around. "Sure, I'll come with you."

But the conversation ended there. Fogged out. Like with the snap of a hypnotist. The moment they left me alone, I decided to rest my tired eyes. As soon as they closed, it wasn't until I was trying to pry them back open that I realized that I had fallen asleep . Around me, everyone had changed location in the room. It was like time travel. I'm asking myself, how long was I out? Did anyone notice? ...Do I even care? And I was out again. There was nothing but the occasional voices I heard in the room getting close to me. My brain seemed asleep, but I could still hear some conversation every once in a while. "Is David asleep?" I kept my eyes closed. "Yeah, just leave him alone" I'd hear, and then time seemed to fast-forward as I bounced in and out of consciousness . It felt like every ten minutes or less I'd wake up to a conversation, fall into a lapse, and hear the middle of a different conversation for what seemed like 10 hours later.

"Any plans for Christmas?" "Yeah, my family is in Boston, thinking of giving a quick visit."

And I lapse.

"Let's draw on his face..." and a laugh. "That's fucked up, leave him alone"

And I lapse again.

" I know we're in the dead of winter, but I still can't wait for the summer." And I hear Roz's voice reply. "Yeah, I really want to go to the beach. It's supposed to be warmer by the beach and all." What's with Roz and the ocean? "What? My cousin lives by it and it's snowing there too. " "No way..."

And once more...

"But we need lyrics for the newer songs, you know?" It was Tanner talking. I open my eyes, but no one's noticed yet. He's facing away from me, talking to Mel, the whole room all engaged in one conversation." It's just that it's so hard to come up with stuff. We've been making up our own bits, but the best lyrics come from other people, like my sister. We've been using a lot of the poems she's written for us, but she's getting caught up with college now, so..."

I find this as a moment to jump into conversation, and my voice sounds lifeless as I speak. "Roz writes, so why don't you ask him?"

Half of the room jumps, followed closely by quiet laughs. "Damn David, you scared me." Jung held a hand over his heart, smiling.

The other half of the room looks quickly from me, to Roz. But Roz is still staring at me, seemingly frozen in his spot.

"Really Roz? " Robbie asked. "If you're a decent writer, we could totally credit your work."

"I don't..." He looked at Robbie and then back to me."I ...don't write. Not really, I mean."

"Could you show us some of your stuff next time? I mean, is it okay with you?" The drummer asked.

I had never seen Roz so timid, almost skittish. "I-, it's really just simple stuff. Just-, Probably not up to standards or anything."

"Oh, okay, well, you know, if you change your mind..."

The subject changed naturally and Roz looked at me again, with a look of anger and disbelief slapped on his face. At first I hadn't realized that he had been confiding in me when he told me he liked to write; I thought it had just been just chit-chat. He seemed to tell everybody everything, so it had never occurred to me that this was personal information. But when I thought about it, he was only open about opinions, not his personal life. No one else knew about his predicament. I was feeling horribly regretful. Whether he knew it or not, his features had a way of expressing to me exactly how he was feeling with just one look, and he looked completely betrayed. Somehow no one else seemed to notice.

 

 

xxxxx

A while later the guys were starting to pack up their stuff, but not really making any effort to leave. They didn't seem to have any worry over the clock at all, and just did things by feeling instead of schedule. Mel had resumed her place next to me on the couch, watching everyone move around. I had found an old newspaper to skim over.

"This was a pretty cool idea huh?"

"Yeah." I murmured, filling in the soft boxes of the crossword puzzle. 5 letters. recreational boat.

"It's so cool to hear songs in the making."

"MmmHmm." 5 letters. Must be 'yacht'.

"And I know the show'll be awesome."

"Yeah"

She glanced over at Roz and gave a small sigh. "Roz is so hot."

"Yep. "

"What?"

"Hmm?"

Mel had a growing smile. "Haha. You just agreed that Roz is hot."

"No I didn't."

"It was a joke." She said stretching. Then smiling said "I wonder if that's what they call a Freudian slip?"

"That's if I had an error in speech. Which I didn't."

The fact that I was defending myself seemed to make her have more fun teasing. "I was just kidding! Geez. It's none of my business who you find hot."

"I wasn't even listening."

"Gee thanks."

I could feel my temples burning and pretended to stare at the puzzle. Mel looked over at Roz again, who was sitting on an amp with a spare guitar. He didn't seem knowledgeable at all how to play guitar, but was having fun by the sounds he was making. Such a kid.

"Do you know how old he is?" Mel asked a bit quietly.

"Way too young for you."

"Damn." She shuffled one of her legs underneath the other. " He's rough around the edges. Not really my type, and I guess too young. He's just so cute."

I wanted to crush all possibilities of dating Roz from her mind. "So what if Roz is cute? He's got a terrible personality."

Mel cocked her eyebrows at that "You think so?"

"I know so." Kind of. A little. Alright, so I had been getting along with him okay, but he was still annoying as hell. He didn't seem to really give a damn about himself at all, and just screamed dysfunctional.

Mel looked over at my crossword puzzle progress. "That's weird. I thought you guys were really good friends or something since you were roommates. At least Roz seems to like you. 9 down is reform by the way."

I write it in and felt my mouth to be a bit dry. "What do you mean?"

"Well, I don't know," She started, and leaned a bit closer." He seemed to have a chemistry with you, but I guess I'm wrong. He acts like he's known you forever, so I just assumed ...I don't know, Roz is just easy to read sometimes, know what I mean?"

You have no idea.

"Talking about me?" The both of us flinched as Roz spoke. He was standing over us, back bent and hands on his knees, staring at the crossword puzzle.

"No." I said too fast.

"What're you doing?" As if it wasn't obvious. His voice was stark and apathetic.

"Crossword puzzle. Don't worry about it."

He rolled his eyes and straightened his back. Kitty's shirt rose up a bit, and that visible gap of skin on his hip was right in my line of vision. Soft and perfect and infuriating. I tore my eyes away, still pretending like that crossword puzzle was an important aptitude test. I could feel Mel's eyes on me, watching to see how I reacted with Roz. She probably didn't believe that I didn't like him. Even I didn't quite believe myself. I ignored the shadow of him over me, while hovering my pencil over the paper like I was busy, and telling myself that Roz's pale flesh beside my face wasn't distracting. Mel and I were playing dumb, and pouring over the crossword so that he sort of floated away when he realized we weren't going to talk with him.

When he had left, We both sighed, looking over the puzzle only half-heartedly this time.

Mel turned to me with a smirk.

"What?"

"Nothing~" She cooed. "He sure seems to stare at you a lot is all."

I looked over to Roz, who snapped his head away immediately.

 

 

xxxxx

Half of the group was gone by the time I finally decided to get up. I felt the familiar sensation of being bruised all over, and stretched. I had napped that small amount, and even that helped tremendously. Funny how being alone in a dark and quiet room doesn't help, but a bright, loud room full of people was perfect for me.

I was absorbed in the environment for a while, as everyone chatted and lazed around, when absent-mindedly looking around the room, I noticed that my 'roommate' was missing. "Hey, where's Roz?"

Robbie, who was sitting beside me replied contemplatively. "He went out for a smoke a while ago." He stood up as well, ready to leave. " Thought he'd be back by now."

"I'll go get him."

I went up the steps, admiring how completely filthy they were, and made my way past the basement door. It was really late at night by now, but not many of the guys upstairs had left. The crowded billiards were swamped with smoke, but none of the cigarettes there had Roz behind them. I decided to make my way outside, since that was the likeliest place for him to be, and side-stepped around the bar stools. The hard-looking guys didn't stare at me so much on my way out. One drunk was mumbling angrily behind an empty glass.

Just opening the grimy door meant being welcomed by crisp cold air. It was considerably colder outside, and the muggy lights from the bar vanished with the closing door. Outside, the lone street lamp buzzed quietly in the abandoned basketball court, winter moths dully swaying around it. The early-morning air made the area feel very stale and somewhat static. I could see Roz's tousled hair and small back looking out onto the river's choppy water, a trail of smoke moving upwards from his gloved hand. I pulled my jacket closer for warmth, but somehow Roz seemed completely undisturbed by the cold. He was sitting on a small gate that sectioned off the court from the grassy slope leading down towards the river's edge. I walked across the court slowly, soaking up the stagnant aura, and stood a good distance away from him.

"Taking a break?" My own white breath matching his.

Roz replied by moving the cigarette to his mouth and exhaling soon after. I came closer and rested my forearms on the top of the gate, curving my spine forward. The river's waters were deadly black, blinking back colors of the city across the bridge. Below us, there were bits of paper and trash fading into the weedy grass. An overturned shopping cart was missing a wheel. “I could kill you.” I heard Roz's tired voice through the cold air.

“For what?”

He scoffed. Apparently still mad at me about the lyric-writing spill.

“I didn't really think that it was a big deal,” I could hear him make another sound of disbelief. ”But if it was personal to you, then I apologize. Honestly I've been fucking up a lot today.”

He didn't reply, his head continued to look forward. “I kinda wish you had told me. " He said bitterly. "About you not being able to sleep, I mean."

I continued looking at the cityscape across the moat of water. "It doesn't matter."

The was a brief pause. "Well, I mean," Roz started, putting out his cigarette on the gap of gate between us. "It's not like you have to share everything with me or anything, but I don't wanna be something that will keep you from your sleep. If I'm keeping you up or something..."

'expect me to share anything'? What are you, my girlfriend?

"No, It's okay. It's not you. It's this damn city. " I watched a plane move lazily across the sky, looking anywhere but his face. " I'll get over it again somehow. Just like last time. I'm just ...tired. Tired of being tired, I guess you could say." I scoffed at myself. Turning my head, I saw Roz looking at me sadly. His face was pale and lips chap from the cold.

"Yeah." He agreed, leaning his head backwards to look at the few visible stars. "This city is bullshit. I'm tired of everything too." He exhaled loudly." Just tired of ...being alive. Know what I mean?"

A silence grew between us. I didn't say anything. What could I say? Although I did know what he was talking about. Everyone has felt that way one way or another. I jumped the gate and sat down as well. Roz continued.

"I feel like all people are slowly becoming the same. The same boring shit. Drink; Smoke; Fuck; Fight. Even hitting rock bottom isn't fun anymore. " He moved his head forward again, with a sigh, looking back at the inky water. " Everyone is apathetic. Apathy comes from selfishness. A generation of selfishness has created this city into what it is, I think. "

It was funny to hear this coming from a sixteen year old, but I could relate. He continued, "Crimes don't mean anything anymore. It's like they only report that shit because there's nothing else to talk about, and you can tell on their faces that they might as well be talking about the weather. You hear reports about people jumping off that bridge so often that it doesn't even mean shit anymore. But sometimes I feel like I can sympathize with the jumper you know? You're last big drink. Like a chugging competition. If the fall didn't kill you first of course."

"That's not funny." But he wasn't laughing.

He looked at me grimly and gave a weak smile. "Why? Would you save me David?"

I peered at him incredulously. "What is this? Some sort of cry for help?"

He gave a broad smile now, playing off my discomfort. "Nah. You've probably guessed by now, but my philosophy on life is to live it like you'll die any moment. The whole, you know, concept of death sounds nice and all, but living is much more exciting. Usually."

I rubbed my temples. I couldn't tell if he was reflecting, or just trying to get a reaction out of me. "I'm sure."

He looked unimpressed, and then, strangely cheery. "You didn't answer my question." He said, and suddenly moved his hand to my thigh. I sprung up quickly, stumbling into the grass and he started laughing.

"Fuck off Roz. Will you grow up?" I was shouting and my voice floated down to the river.

Still laughing, he stood up as well, jumping back over the gate and into the basketball court. "That's okay. I already know the answer, considering you already saved me once."

"Yeah. I should have just left you there." I pulled my newly-muddy shoes over the gate and started walking briskly back towards the bar and he was trying to keep pace with me. "And watch your fucking hands."

"Ha, and here goes David being defensive" he teased after me.

"Yeah, well, I hardly find sexual harassment amusing."

"Sexual harassment? God, you're such a girl."

I turned around to look at him and couldn't help but size him up, laughing internally. I was taller and stronger than him by 5 years. "Who's the girl?"

He noticed me giving him a once over and jutted his jaw out stubbornly. We were at the door, staring at each other silently, before it slammed open onto us. There was a smash, and a large man stumbled out. "Watch where the fuck you're going!" he cursed, obviously far from sober. The slamming of the door had made him drop a large bottle, chunks of glass glittering the black tar. The barkeep followed closely behind him, along with a few guys who had helped throw him out. "I don't want you starting trouble in here again!" The barkeep yelled, his lips quivering. "Now go catch a bus or something! You don't have to go home, but you can't stay here!"

"Oh, like I give a fuck!" His eyes were swollen and he looked like the rehab-rejects that you'd find sleeping at the back of the bus. " I don't even like this shithole anyways!" I put a hand on Roz's shoulder and we squeezed our way back inside. I could tell the direction the scene was going and the last thing I wanted was to be part of it. I wanted to just get back to the basement. But it wasn't going to happen that easily.

"Hey!" the man shouted at us, but more directly at Roz. He had followed us inside. " Who's going to pay for this drink you smashed?"

I should have known. Roz is such an easy target, and I'm just that lucky. I was about to pull out my wallet, when Roz rolled his eyes and replied, "Like it's MY fault? Christ, Fuck off, you drunk bastard. "

I grimaced. That was it. He could have just kept walking, he could have ignored him, but there was no force in hell that could keep Roz's mouth shut.

"What the hell did you just say? " The drunk demanded. "Turn around and say it again, you little faggot!" The whole bar was watching the doorway now, holding their breath, some of them smiling.

Roz did turn around, with a growing smirk on his face. He seemed to enjoy letting the venom boil under his skin, pronouncing every word with satisfaction.

" I told you to fuck off, you dumb cunt."

The man's body swelled up in anger before throwing the rest of the broken bottle behind him and walking towards us. It all seemed to happen at once; There was a rush of sound and a blur as the man charged after Roz, and multiple men jumped on both of them. There was the smash of a bottle and flying fists, and the yells of the barkeep were lost in the mere seconds of chaos. There were people rushing in everywhere, and I could see some of the band's faces in the crowd. Somehow, someone had pulled up the drunk, and now two men were holding him back. He didn't have much damage, but had a nice split lip swelling up. I held Roz around the chest, while another man was trying to take one of his arms as they wrestled to get free. They were both breathing heavily and the smell of booze and burning rage was strong. Men stood back, realizing that there was more glass and bottle remnant on the floor.

"Christ..." Some one muttered, and it was then that I smelt the alcohol all over Roz, along with blood. I looked down at him to see red gushing from the side of his head, all down his shirt and onto mine. Roz looked down as well, just as surprised to see it as I was.

"Holy shit, someone call the police" another voice said. Roz freed himself from my grip, and calmly put a hand to his head to feel the damage.

"Are you okay?" I asked, but he didn't seem to have heard me. "What an asshole." He said to himself. He started laughing and looked at the blood on his hands. “Damn it smells.” Trembling, he fell back into my arms. Head wounds always seemed to gush the most.

There was a group of men carrying the drunk off, and another coming into a circle around Roz, firing off comments.

"Is he gonna be alright?" "Jesus." "Fuck, he just grabbed my bottle and smashed it over that kid's head!" "That looks pretty wicked." "Were the fuck's the police?"

"Give em some air, will yah?" It was the tiger-tattooed man from earlier , waving them back.

Roz spoke, with the ghost of laughter still on his face. "Christ, I'm okay. What's the big deal?"

"You're not okay Roz." I said, holding him firmly.

He shook me off, standing feebly on his own. Blood was still dripping down his ear and neck. "Alright, shit, then let's get the hell out of here David." He said matter-of-factly.

"Man, you shouldn't be going anywhere." The tattooed man said. " You should patch up until you can go to a hospital. At least do some home stitches or somethin. "

"He's right Roz." I said stiffly.

"David," He muttered sternly, "I can't...I'm not gonna be here when police are here. I can't deal with that right now." He stammered. "Can we just go? David?"

The other men looked at me. Behind their eyes was the wonder of why he wanted to avoid the police. I looked around; At the wide open door and the drunk stammering off; At the barkeep on the phone to the police; At Roz's bloodied face, eager to get the hell away from here. " ...Fuck. Alright, then lets go. Right now." I took Roz's arm and started towards the door.

"Are you serious?" One of them asked. The rest had a look of understanding. Perhaps a fair share of them had bad relations with the police.

"There's a clinic off 23rd street okay?" The tattooed man said, as we made our way back into the cold air. The swell of men around us moved in multiple directions. I could hear Mel calling to us from inside the bar, but she was probably trapped in there by the crowd. I was still dragging Roz by the arm as far from the building as possible, speed walking. He was applying pressure to his head with his hand, the sleeve pulled over to absorb the flow. My shirt felt hot and wet from his blood streaking it, and started to stick to my skin. I slacked my grip on him, but didn't let him walk his own pace.

"Alright Roz, you're okay to walk a bit to the cab? And then we can get you patched up at the hospital. It doesn't look too serious or anything, but-"

"I'm not going to a hospital."

"What? Of course you are."

"No." He said with finality. "I'm not going to have people running around for me when I don't have any ID or cash to give in return. So no, I'm not, am I?"

"Roz, I can..." It was a bit hard to get out. "I can help you if you have to go."

"No. I want to go home."

A small part of me noticed that he had called my apartment 'home', but mostly, I was wondering how this was going to blow over once we got there. Once again, I was saving his ass.

There were a few cabs waiting at the corner to pick up any straggling drunks. One of them looked up as we came closer, and after looking at the state of us, shook his head side to side very fast. There was no way he wanted us all over his seats.

The cab behind the first one called out his window, eager for our money. "Heeeeey, you folks need some help? Got in a fight? Need to go to a medic?" I opened the back door, letting Roz get in first. The car immediately filled with the smell of his blood, making me feel sick to my stomach. I told the driver our destination and he nodded. "Suuuuure, just mind where you put your hands. This'd be expensive to clean, kay? "

 

 

xxxx

 

Like usual, the street was an empty and a foreboding orange as we crossed it to the apartment complex. It was crisp enough outside to dry my throat, but not to snow. The cabs lights were red streaks as it drove away, and the stoop was in front of us. But I was looking at the alley beside it, framed in biting blackness. Anyone else would have to make a fuckload of noise to get in the front door, but there was a metal door in the alley that I had the key to. I had it in case I had to help Mrs.Saito bring out garbage when she asked. It lead to a storage area in the lobby, and it was better than waking her up and having to answer a lot questions. We made our way into the alley, but there was no light at all by the door, so we were swallowed up by the dark. I felt Roz staggering a bit beside me, feeling blind as I used my finger to search the wall for the door handle. I somehow found it, right below the fire escape. My collection of keys had me waiting for a while, uncomfortable in the solid black of the alley. I couldn't tell what Roz was feeling. He was probably used to lurking around at night. With a turn of the right key, the door opened without too much noise from the metal bars. Inside was the storage, with files and boxes of old papers and odd artifacts that Mrs. Tran had tucked away, such as a half-painted portrait and a stuffed raccoon. It was a collection of knick-knacks and information made over years and years of being a packrat. Roz stood next to an antique rocking horse, a fine film of dust obscuring the faded primary colors beneath. He had lost a lot of blood quickly and looked strangely like the battered surviver of a horror film.

Without a word, I made my way towards the door to check if the coast was clear. It was unlocked. With a glimpse of the stairs I had a realization. "Fuck..." I whispered. I had forgotten about that obstacle. "Roz?" I asked, quieter still." Can you go up the stairs?"

He looked up, thinking to himself, with a stupid look on his face. In his weak condition, he'd make way too much noise dragging himself up. The building was too cheap and too old-fashioned to have a working elevator. I imagined it in my head: Roz knocking himself against the walls and talking too loud like he always did. I didn't have much of a reputation in the building, but I would loose every scrap of it if someone heard noise and saw a strange bloodied kid moaning his way up the stairs. Not to mention probably give some impressive nightmares. Without waiting for a reply, and cheeks burning, I took a knee.

"What?" Roz asked, looking down at my posture.

"Get on before I change my mind."

"...What?"

I could hear that damned smile in his voice. There we were, dirty and broken and hiding in the dusty storage room with the rest of the forgotten and broken things.

" I said-"

"I heard what you said."

There was long moment of silence, and me crouching down.

Finally, as if enjoying making me wait, Roz lowered himself onto me, his warm chest on my back. I stood up, looping his legs through my arms the way I had with my younger cousins so many hundreds of times before. Although he was much heavier than my 9 year old cousins. Roz relaxed onto me completely, wrapping his arms around my neck, the smell of detergent and alcohol on the sleeves of his hoody. He rested his cheek on the back of my head, rubbing his face into my hair and I wondered if he could feel my temperature rising. He's doing that on purpose... I should have seen that coming. Opening the storage door, I snuck out into the lobby right next to the stairs, holding my breath and hoping Mrs. Saito didn't hear anything. I had the added weight on me, but I carefully made my way upwards, trying not to make any additional noise. My poor legs were strained without the regeneration of much sleep, but I moved as fast as I could. Not to mention I also had to watch Roz's shoes so that they wouldn't scrape the wall. His calm breaths were by my ear and I tried to hush my own labored ones as we went up, up, up, and I was glad to see the door to my room.

I opened the door without too much difficulty, flicking on the fluorescent kitchen light with one hand as the other still held up the rentboy on my back.

I staggered into the kitchen, letting him down onto the kitchen counter. He was about to slide off of it when I said "Stay there."

I took off my jacket, inspecting it a bit, and glad to see that there was little to no blood on it from carrying him up. Roz stared at me. "I have to take another shower." He said dully.

"Just hold on a minute." In a couple of steps I was back to Roz, his legs hanging off the counter like they would be resting off a swing. There were still-wet stripes of blood down his ear and temple, where it had dripped to his neck and his collar bones. His lips were also stained red where they came together. Without waiting for approval, I moved my right hand to his jaw and pushed his head to the side. Resisting his objections, my other hand went towards the clotted mess of a cut on his head. There were still slivers of glass in his hair, and it needed to be cleaned.

"Fuck! Leave it alone! " He squirmed out of my grip and pushed me off of him.

"Christ, quiet down! You're going to wake up the neighbors."

His brows were furrowed at me, about to jump off the counter, so I explained myself. "It was your idea not to go to a hospital, and you can't expect to just leave it like that. Let me look at it."

He stared at me, and then looked at his knees. "Whatever. " was all he managed to muster. Typical.

In a quick search of the apartment I had managed to find tweezers under the bathroom sink, along with an old first aid kit that only had bandaids and a bottle of 3% hydrogen peroxide rolling around inside. Seemingly useless, but it would have to do. I had Roz hold still as I pulled little glass thorns out if his hair and skin with the tweezers. He had a somewhat natural pout inbetween the wincing and lip-biting of my cleaning-up process. tiny shards had stuck in with the clotted blood that was turning into a scab. His lips flushed redder as he bit down for that part. All the little pieces I removed I put onto a paper towel next to us. He let me work quietly, his eyes closed most of the time. When I was done he looked at the small shining flecks I had pulled off his scalp.

"Huh. I didn't realize that much was in there."

"Yeah, it's a lot of work." I cracked my neck.

Still glancing at the shards, he said nonchalantly, "I didn't ask you to do it."

I stopped rubbing my neck to stare at him point blank."...That's a hell of a thing for you to say to me."

He shot his head up, surprised that I had taken it offensively "Why?"

"You started this whole goddamn mess. " I was saying all of begrudgingly but still calmly. The spitefulness was in the back of my mind, but somehow speaking for me.

Roz however, was getting louder. " And what was I supposed to do? Bend over and take his bullshit? Fuck that."

"It's called walking away and being the bigger man Roz. I swear to god you're such a kid sometimes."

"That's because I am a kid, David."

"That doesn't mean you have to act like one. " I picked up the papertowel of glass bits and walked to the trash, kicking the discussion up a notch.

" I never know what the hell you're thinking. What kind of life are you leading anyways? Starting shit at bars and standing on street corners? Shouldn't you be in school somewhere?" I didn't want to be saying these things and I didn't want to start an argument but my mouth was shooting off anyways. I turned around to Roz.

His face was burning up, completely affronted. "What I do is none of your business."

"You made it my business when you came up to me at the cafe, remember?"

"I see, so I'm just the delinquent right? Oh yeah, Poor Roz, the runnaway dumbshit kid on the street. Like I give two damns or a fuck about pity-parties. Alright, so I've whored myself out a few times. It's just when I'm really tight on cash; Not like I do it for a living. Besides, I provide a needed service, quality product, and I charge accordingly. I don't harm anyone any more than someone who sells booze, cigarettes or anything else."

Spoken like a true ignorant juvenile. He was telling this so passionately that it sounded like something he had convinced himself of.

"No harm, huh? " I was back in front of Roz. We were both staring each other down, but neither of us was going to lose."What about the harm they do to you? What was his name?" I saw realization dawn on his face and continued." Gregg, right?"

He pushed me out of his way immediately, getting off the counter walking towards the couch. He stood there, fuming and showing his back to me. "I'm not fucking talking about this right now."

"Then when will you?"

He was facing the darkness of the room, staring at nothing in particular. He didn't answer, and with his back still to me, started taking off his zip-up sweater and gloves, throwing them hard at the ground with satisfaction. He scraped off Kitty's forever ruined shirt and threw that as well, about to make his way towards the bathroom.

"Come here Roz." My voice cut through the air like static and he stopped. Even in his irritation, he still turned around to my words, half covered in darkness.

"What." it wasn't a question, but a command for me to explain myself. I held up the brown bottle in answer.

"What the hell is that?"

"Hydrogen peroxide. It won't hurt, it just fizzes a little." He stared at me, unimpressed. I continued "It'll clean out the bacteria before you shower." Just like he wanted, I was changing the subject. Roz's bright eyes continued to stare at me.

His dark messy hair contrasted with his light eyes, even with his pale chest and hipbones splattered with droplets of red. Without the shirt on he was so thin, but lean, like a young runway model. From an artist's perspective, he was beautifully put together. I wondered what his parents must look like. He started walking towards me and snapped me back to earth, hoping to God that he didn't notice me gaping at him. Artist's perspective. It's just an Artist's perspective. He's anatomically pleasing to the eye. ...I'm a fucking idiot.

Roz's white shoulders walked right past me and to the old metal sink. He bent forward over it, holding out his hand for the bottle.

I stood beside him hesitantly, suddenly very aware of how unnatural I was feeling. I didn't hand him the bottle, but took the initiative instead. He put his hand back down, and let me pour the clear liquid over the wound. It gently flowed over his hair, into the sink. It started fizzing white immediately over the cut, but not a little bit; a lot. the millions of little white bubbles were very audible, like water on a stove.

"What- What the hell?!"

"It's okay, it's just because there's so much blood. Here, wash it out." I turned the tap and low pressured water streamed out. He moved his head underneath and gasped at the coldness. "Cold!"

I turned the other tap to get it warmer as I walked over to get a towel. "Ow, shit, now it's too hot." He called out. One of his hands flew to the taps and started twisting them desperately back and forth until the temperature was comfortable.

 

As Roz washed his hair the house phone rang loudly and I jumped. It cut through the air, disrupting the natural night-sounds. It was Mel on the other line, screaming at me. “Christ, why don't you have a cell phone like the rest of the planet?! I swear to God I've been trying to reach you as soon as possible! And all the mess left at the bar, what the hell is going on over there? Are you guys okay?” All of this was said incredibly fast, like her mouth couldn't keep up with her thoughts.

“We're fine, I'm at the apartment with Roz right now.”

“Oh good, well I'm glad I got to you before my battery died! Anyways, only two cops showed up, but it wasn't too big a deal. Apparently the guy who busted up Roz was just fucked up from going through a divorce or something; whatever, he had a lot of bullshit problems. At least it's a relief to hear from you, I mean, if Roz is okay, and all. The band-”

I listened for a moment, but only silence replied.

“Hello? “

Mel was gone. It seemed like her battery wouldn't be patient enough to let her continue. The faucet squeaked to a stop and Roz wrung out the tips of his hair over the sink, all of the blood gone from it but not from his face. The outline of drips were still there, like little maroon threads. He slid back onto the counter with legs dangling, holding out his hand again, this time for a towel.

And again I ignored the hand, and flung it over his head instead, messing it around like I was drying a pet.

He scoffed."Hey, I can dry it myself."

"I know."

He stared at me quizzically, and I stared back. We seemed to do this often.

When he didn't resist, I continued. Roz let me scruff his hair up a bit longer, his face steadily flushing red. He bit his lip, but not in pain this time. Without warning he tightened his knees to hold me in place. Leaning closer, he said "I swear, you're not even trying David. I can so easily take advantage of you in this position."

"But you won't."

He moved his head back, surprised. He had been trying to get a rise out of me all night, I could tell. He probably wondered how I could tell. He studied my face a bit longer, eyes moving all over. Then he heaved a sigh "...Yeah, you're right." he replied, deflated. Here I was, spoiling his fun. He relaxed his legs, staring at his knees again. I continued drying his hair like it didn't happen.

"David."

"What?"

"I'm sorry."

"What are you sorry about?" Or 'which thing' is what I should have said.

He continued staring at his knees quietly. "I'm sorry..." I stopped moving, as his hands shot upwards and cupped over his face.

"Oh shit, come on Roz..." Please don't do this right now.

"I'm sorry...I'm fucking sorry" His face was covered by his hands, but he was crying. I couldn't believe that he was completely letting go so suddenly. Did I say something? I stood there stupidly, watching him until he started to sob into his palms. I didn't know what to do, so I pushed the towel towards Roz's hands. He grabbed it and hid his face in it. It was like he was trying to suffocate himself in it, pressing it so hard against his face that his knuckles were white. His shoulders shook and for a while I just let him concentrate on getting it out. Maybe he wanted to be left alone for a moment.

" I'm a fucking idiot." he said, moving the towel to the side, but still wiping his eyes raw. He gasped for air a bit before continuing. "I miss my mom. I fucking hate her, but I miss her so much." He rubbed his wet face, still hiding most of it from me. " God, I'm completely fucked. I don't know what the hell I'm even doing or what the fuck I'm going to do to survive, beside freeloading off other people like a goddamn gypsy. I hate this city. It should burn." Oh the angst. Roz was ripe with it, but how could he not be? I was at a loss for words, so I told him so. “I...don't know what to say.”

"I'm sorry for starting so much shit."

"Roz, you don't-I mean, if you need to be left alone,-"

He seized my shirt and pulled me closer to him, wringing his wet hands into it. “Please don't leave. Please.”

“I'm not going anywhere.”

He looked terrible, with a face all screwed up and flushed; eyelashes clumped together in tears. His head moved forward uncertainly, until I felt a wetness on my collarbone as his face settled there. All I could do was be my awkward self, and not move. Curled up into me, his shoulders and back looked so small...For some reason he reminded me so much of a stray cat. He clutched onto my shirt, keeping his face from site as the tears soaked into the collar.

I looked down at his pitiful state and told myself to put my insecurities aside and just do what I was thinking. No one was around to see anyways... Roz tightened his grip as my hands nervously rested on the cold skin of his back, pulling him to me. Like a distraught child, he just needed to be held. He stopped shaking and just laid into me. We said nothing, both of us probably too embarrassed to say anything. I had done this with girls a few times, but this was somehow more intense and awkward than those times.

 

I don't know how long I stood there, holding Roz and letting my shirt get abused, but it was a small time afterwards that he stopped crying completely. I considered this as the moment to tell him to chin up and contemplated some optimistic words that might work to make him feel better. But looking down, he was very still, and leaning on me heavily. “Roz?”

He didn't answer. Instead was just the familiar sound of his steady breathing. He's sleeping?

I let my arms move off his back and saw that his hands were still lazily grasping my shirt. He himself wasn't wearing one, and I supposed he would have been cold if he hadn't been holding onto me so desperately. I could feel myself blushing again and cursed the gods of fate for toying with me. What the hell am I supposed to do now?

I bit the inside of my mouth hard before making my decision. I pulled him closer to me, sliding my hands underneath his thighs to pick him up. I was glad no one was around to see how red my face was in this uncompromisable situation. Roz seemed to still be asleep; He was dead weight on my chest even as he was lifted. I walked slowly to the light switch, turning it off with my elbow, and teetering towards the coach. I sat down onto it, carefully releasing Roz off of me. He let go, sinking into the cushions and looking amazingly peaceful, aside from the pink eyelids. I walked quickly to the bed, bringing over a blanket and spreading it over him. At least he could have a blanket this time. With a heavy sigh I sat down on the couch as well, utterly exhausted. The earlier nap was nice, but now my body was genuinely craving sleep for the first time in a week. Knowing that my neck was going to hurt in the morning, I leaned back and just let go. I could hear only Roz's breathing now. Inhale, exhale. I remembered the slow pulses of the wind in the trees; of the waves. In and out. Waves crashing, a seat of sand...

And I slept.

 

 

----

Author's Note:

 

"Finally", is what you're all thinking right? Sorry, I don't mean for the chapters to be so long, but I just take the small details and run with them.

It's amazing that I was finally able to get back to this story. It was on hiatus for a while, but it's far from over.

I believe I started this story February of 2007, so yay for 1 year and 10 months!

And for those not acquainted with Japanese accents, Mrs Saito replaces her Vs with Bs and her Rs with Ls. I really didn't want to have to type out her dialog too much or it would be difficult to read.

Also, I slipped in a Hadouken! reference from "Liquid Lives". I'm sure fans would have noticed it. On that note, I've even made something of a soundtrack if you're interested in what songs remind me of the story. As you've guessed, some of it is slow and a bit angsty. How appropriate!

Here's a link for the curious: (http://husbife.livejournal.com/9226.html)

Shit, now I have to work on chapter 6 don't I? Damn. At least the winter weather will keep me motivated.

I'd like to thank all of you for pestering me about getting it done-i mean it! I love you and am really surprised to have such devoted fans. I'm glad you aren't bored with it. Thanks for everything, and for putting up with me. :)